Chapter 27: Bumbling Up the Stairs

Alecta:

Screwed. Screwed, screwed, screwed. I'd completely forgotten about it, but I'd told Cedric that I hadn't turned him down so I could go with Harry – to be more precise, I'd specifically said that not only was I not going with Harry, but I was going alone. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl! What the bloody hell was the matter with me?

Although, to be fair, it wasn't really any of his buisness who I went with, especially since the entire relationship was completely platonic and Harry was too hung up on Cho, anyhow. So I had no reason to feel apologetic, he had absolutely no right to be angry with me, and – oh, let's not even get started on George.

My God, I've become pathetic.

I mean, I was already pretty pathetic, but now I've reached a whole new level of pathetic-ness. I could handle an army. I could handle dragons, inferi, kappas, and dementors. I could even deal with rabid girls (via nasty magical plague). But give me a guy and I fall apart at the seams.

I am Alecta Gryffindor, dammit! I should be able to pick up my guts from where they were hiding at my feet and set them straight. Both of them. And Harry too, just for the heck of it, even though I didn't really need to. But no, I'd ignored every single lesson anyone had ever given me in the ways of man and now I was paying for it with my dignity and self-esteem.

Ginny walked in with a glass of water, took one look at me sitting on her bed in my dress, and said, "Bad night?"

"You don't know the half of it," I muttered in self-pity.

"What happened?"

"Well," I said unhappily, "I pissed off Cedric Diggory, weirded out Harry, and kissed George."

Ginny dropped her glass, which shattered on the floor. "You what?"

"I know, and it's funny because Cedric's completely jealous with Harry, when he really should be jealous of –"

"You kissed my brother?"

"...Would it make you feel better if I said I hadn't?"

"All I know is that when you went down to the Yule Ball you were not planning on snogging my brother and now you've come back up and you have."

"We didn't snog," I said defensively. "One kiss, Ginny, one kiss!"

Ginny shook her head and began stripping out of her dress robes. "Start at the beginning. What happened this evening?"

I sighed. "All right, so it began when we were all at dinner. Personally, I don't think putting all four champions and their dates together at one table with a bunch of Ministry administrators was the most fabulous idea anyone's ever had. Harry and I couldn't really talk because of the company, and so we ended up small talking." This in hindsight, had been a good idea, since Harry had been trying to subtly stare at Cho the whole time (emphasis on the 'trying'), and I'd been dealing with Cedric staring at me. Of course, I thought he'd been staring, but as I discovered halfway through dinner, he'd been glaring at Harry and I.

At first, I couldn't figure out why this was, until I remembered about the aforementioned 'will you be going with Harry?' question. So then once I figured that out, I felt really awkward about the whole thing, and tried to engage Harry in more conversation as we ate. This, unfortunately, was counter-productive since that made Cedric think we were seriously dating. Sidenote: Even if we were seriously dating, he'd still have no right to be jealous, since I hadn't wanted to date him before and I certainly didn't now (call me selfish and unfair, but it was still safer and easier). Sidenote #2: How could Cedric possibly get 'seriously dating' from the smallest and misconstrued signs, but still miss all the obvious and unintentional – no, I'm not lying – flirting George and I had been doing over the past few months?

"Wait a minute, Cedric Diggory asked you to the Yule Ball?"

I laughed awkwardly. "I didn't tell you that?"

Hermione stormed into the dormitory, her face still flushed and her eyes sparking with anger. "Didn't tell her what?"

"Diggory asked her to the Yule Ball and she turned him down!" cried Ginny, pulling on her nightshirt. I pointed out she had yet to take off her makeup. She swore, pulled it off again, and stalked into the bathroom.

"Cedric asked you to the Ball?" asked a surprised Hermione. "And you turned him down?"

"Yes," I said defensively.

"How did it go?"

"I dunno, he found me in the Owlrey, he asked, and I said no," I said. "I wasn't actually planning on going with someone, you know."

"Well, you've buggered things up," called Ginny from the bathroom.

"Thanks, Ginny!" I yelled back sarcastically.


"Nicci," Harry said to me uncomfortably as our plates cleared away. "Why is Diggory glaring at us?"

"Is he?" I lied, pretending to be oblivious to the matter.

"Maybe you've got something in your teeth."

"Maybe you've got something in yours," I bit back. The other champions were walking away, leaving me momentarily stranded until I remembered we were supposed to dance. "C'mon," I said again, grabbing his arm and pulling, feeling an unbearable sense of deja vu. "We've got to dance."

I did a valiant job ignoring him stumbling over his robes as he followed me onto the ballroom floor. I did an even more valiant job ignoring Dean and Seamus who were sniggering at him as we (or, I) chose a spot. As the other couples readied themselves, though none of them looked half as horrified as Harry, I hissed, "Put your hand on my waist."

"What?" he whispered back, seeming completely bewildered.

"Put your hand on my waist – oh, here," I grimaced, grabbing his arm and placing it correctly before seizing his other and holding it. As the band began to play, we began to turn slowly before I decided on a good old fashioned waltz and made us move. We weren't outstanding, but we most certainly beat out the others, who had no idea what they were doing. Aunt Rowena had always been insistent on Hailey, Helena, and I knowing how to dance. I think Uncle Salazar had forced Silen, Nathaniel, Hamish, and Ben to dance as well. Father always laughed, but he was happy I knew how to dance as well.

I glanced over a McGonagall, who seemed overly pleased at our – my – dancing, and had even turned to Sprout and quietly begun to brag . She rolled her eyes, but smiled and accepted defeat anyway. Harry was enjoying this even less than I was, which was a great feat, and seemed incapable of doing anything but what I made him do.

"So, er, why d'you think Diggory was really staring at us?" he asked me suddenly, making me look up in surprise.

I should never be surprised. I really just cannot be surprised, I always screw up and blurt out things I shouldn't when I'm surprised. "Well, Diggory asked me and I turned him down and now he thinks we're daaa...never mind."

Harry just stared at me. "You what?"

Oh, no. If I hadn't turned down Cedric, he wouldn't have asked Cho, and Harry couldn've gone with Cho. Effing idiot I am, I'd forgotten.

Where were those Death Eaters when you needed them?


" ...What? No, that wasn't a horrible thing to think."

"You asked for Dark involvement so you could get out of answering embarrassing questions," said Hermione skeptically.

"Well, when you put it like that," I replied lamely. Ginny snorted into her hand and Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"It amazes me how immature you can be," she told me.

"Yeah, me too," I said under my breath.

"So, then what?" asked Ginny.

"We sat there a while, Ron, Harry, Padma, and I. Padma got bored after about ten minutes and left to dance. She's not very patient, is she?"

"Or you're very lazy," suggested Ginny.

"So Harry, Ron, and I sat there until Hermione came."

"That's it?" asked Ginny. "Didn't you talk?"

"Not really," I said. "I mean, what would we talk about?"

"I don't know, something," interjected Hermione.

"Hermione, you're brilliant, you know, but you just don't understand how guy friends are," I said firmly, being sure to make a clear distinction. "They don't like to talk about dances, who's dancing with who, all that crap. They just...sit there and wait for it to end."

"Wait, what happened when Hermione came?"

I gestured to Hermione, who said, "Ron mocked Viktor and made it out that I didn't care about Harry at all and that I wanted him to lose."

"Which is a bit rich since before the First Task, Ron himself wanted Harry to lose," I tacked on.

Ginny shrugged. "Sounds like Ron."

"So, anyway, after Hermione left I got up and followed her, to make sure she was all right and everything..."


I watched Hermione leave and then turned to look at Ron. "Couldn't have done it better myself," I said sarcastically. I jumped up and followed her.

"Hi," I said as I walked over to her. "I'm sorry about Ron."

"Why is he acting like this, Nicci? I thought he liked Krum! I thought Krum was an idol!"

"I don't think it's Krum that he's mad about, Hermione. I think it's the fact that Krum went with you."

"But Ron doesn't care!" cried Hermione in frustration. "I was a back-up to him – a last resort! Why would he care?"

"I think it's more subconscious," I said thoughtfully. "Who knows, Hermione? Ron's thick – even for a boy."

"Thanks, Nicci," said Hermione, wiping her eyes. "I'm going to go and try to find Viktor, all right?"

"Go ahead," I told her, pushing her off her seat. "I'm fine."

"Is Harry a bad date?" asked Hermione.

"Nah," I said. "I'm good at dancing—it doesn't mean I like it."

"All right…well, see you later."

I waved to her as she left.

10 minutes, 3 cups of punch, and too many Weird Sister songs later, I was still sitting in my seat looking bored out of my mind. If you didn't have a date—or if it'd disappeared with Ron fifteen minutes ago—there was really nothing to do. Ginny was dancing with Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw, Hermione had gone off to find Krum, and I was sitting here, wishing for some Firewhiskey.

Okay, so maybe I look fourteen, but don't forget I'm over a thousand years old. I'm legally over-age.

"Hey, Nics," said a voice a little ways off.

Aha! My Firewhiskey had come in the form of George Weasley.

"Hi, George," I said, patting the seat next to me. "Come and sit, why don't you?"

He sat down next to me. "Where's Fred?" I asked.

"Dancing with Angelina," he said, sounding bored. "There's really nothing to do."

"No kidding," I said. "Weren't you going with…Alicia Spinnet or someone?"

"Yeah, but it was more as friends," he replied. "She ran off with Katie Bell just now—probably to go talk in the loo."

"Sounds fun," I grinned, stretching my legs. "Well, your date beat mine—he left with Ron to Merlin-knows-where."

"Ooh, with Ickle Ronniekins? Where to?" he asked mockingly.

I gave him a half-glare. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Weasley."

He laughed at me. Since neither of us could think of anything else to say, we fell into a silence which was not quite comfortable, but not awkward either. George wasn't like Harry or Ron. Harry and Ron I could just sit with and not worry about being judged. With George, I was constantly on edge, always looking for something to say or do. This was most annoying because he did not even remotely appear to have the same issue with me.

"You want to dance?" he suddenly asked me.

"Dance? Well—" I tried to find a reason not to, but came up short. "Sure. Why not?"

We got up and started moving towards the dance floor. After carefully avoiding Fred and Angelina, we stopped in a more deserted corner of the hall. But just as we were about to start dancing to the ridiculously fast song, it slowed and stopped.

"Just our luck," muttered George.

A slow song started up. George looked at me, mumbled, "I – well – you don't –" and fell silent again. I made my decision.

I grabbed his shoulders and after a few moments he took my waist. I found myself liking the feel of his hands on my waist. Now I knew why Mirror-Me had been so happy when Mirror-George had put an arm around her waist. He was good at it. Now if only I knew what it was like to closer—

What the hell was I thinking? I couldn't believe I was getting so side-tracked by George's hand on my waist. I had been ignoring all of the things I'd felt or seen last year with Erised or in dreams, counting them off as transitional PMS (I wonder if it was a real thing, but, being one of a kind, I'll never know), but as soon as we got close to being "intimate" I fell back into my old ways. Damn it, what the hell am I going to do with myself now?

This is where the powerful witch gets over-ruled by the hormonal teenager, said a smug inner voice.

Shut up. And I've made it so far without listening to you, too! (This, obviously, was more my whining than an actual part of the conversation. I certainly didn't care about my own whining)

Don't tell me you're not enjoying it—because I know you're enjoying it.

How do you know?

Because I'm you, idiot.

This thought snapped me out of my private argument.

"So…this is nice," I said awkwardly.

"Yes," he agreed.

This song was going on forever! I mean, it'd only been about thirty seconds, but that was completely irrelevant. I needed to come up with an excuse that would make sense, be realistic, and not make me seem like the horrible, terrible person I was.

Heh. Yes, that was possible.

"Er, George, I have to..."

"Go?" He seemed amused. "Let me guess, one of the Blast-Ended Skrewts has gone into labor and Hagrid needs your help?"

I glared at him. "I hate to burst your bubble, mister, but my excuse was going to be much more realistic than that."

He glanced over at Angelina Johnson. "Yeah, I bet."

I felt an unknown anger in the pit of my stomach and squashed it like a bug. "You're not so bad alone," I said stupidly, desperate for conversation and (though I'd never admit it) to get him to bring his eyes back to me.

"What?" He seemed almost confused.

"Alone. I mean, without Fred. You're not so...insufferable," I continued. "You actually, you know, talk and think and don't just crack jokes the whole time." I followed his gaze to Angelina. "By the way, I thought it was only the girls who played the jealousy card."

That got his attention. He whipped his head back so fast I was surprised he didn't break his neck. "What d'you mean, jealousy card?"

"You've been staring at her!" I said, anger bursting in my chest. "That Johnson girl. Go dance with her if it means so much to you. I – I just – forget it," I sighed. "Never mind. It was a stupid thing to say."

George gave me a half-grin. "Is it all right with you that I didn't follow any of that?"

I snorted. "I didn't follow half of it." I let go of him carefully, but grabbed his arm and lead him out of the Great Hall. "You see, I hate these sort of parties," I told him as I walked.

"Have you been to many?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes," I told him childishly. "I just – I always say really stupid things. It's all the emotions running round the place, I can't handle it."

"Then why did you say yes to Harry?"

"I felt bad for him, honestly," I said. "You know, he was a champion, and he didn't have a date, and he'd had no dancing experience."

"So you were being charitable," he said, arching an eyebrow and smirking.

"No – yes – oh, shut up, George," I grumbled while he laughed.

"C'mon, Nics, don't feel bad," he grinned, slinging an arm over my shoulder. "We all knew you were kind-hearted, really, we just wanted to make you feel better about yourself."

"I take it all back," I said, grimacing. "You are insufferable."

"And don't you forget it!" He added proudly.

We walked in a comfortable silence for a few paces. Or, rather, he walked in a comfortable silence while I went into internal panic mode. In panic mode, which I have experienced only eleven times in my entire life (which is good, as it's about once a century), I tend to shut down.

No, shut down is not a good thing. It means I've completely given up on not being humiliated.

No, of course I hadn't already given up, Ginny! Merlin, you make me sound like a coward, which I am not.

"So, er, we should go back to the Gryffindor Common Room..."

George was mightily confused by this statement. "Nicci, honey, where d'you think we're going?"

Argh! This was reminding me horribly of my first Yule Ball, except for in that one, I was calm-and-cool George and my date Hamish was blushing, blundering me. Of course, Hamish was the original Hufflepuff duffer, so that really wasn't any praise to my intelligence.

"No, no, I mean – we shouldn't go back to the Gryffindor Common Room." Trying haphazardly to regain my self-esteem, I realized far too late what I had just implied. George, who had been watching me in an over-exaggerated concern, gaped, stumbled on the stairs, and landed arm-first in a trick step.

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry, George," I gasped, stopping and kneeling down beside him. "Er. This is awkward."

"I've never fallen into a trick step before," George whined. "Nicole!"

I looked around. "Who are you talking to?"

He stared at me. "You, dumbbell. Isn't your full name Nicole?"

"Uh, no." I grabbed his arm and began pulling him out.

He tensed his right arm (which wasn't stuck) and helped me. "What is it, then? Everyone only ever calls you Nicci."

I weighed my chances. Despite all the lies I had told him about everything, it might be nice if he knew my first name. "Alecta."

With a loud 'pop!' his arm flew from the trick step, and he slowly stood, massaging his skin. "How the bloody hell do you get Nicci from Alecta?"

"You really don't," I grinned. "But with a name like Nicci everyone assumes, like you did, that my full name is Nicole. Alecta is a little old-fashioned, don't you think?" Well, that was true, at the very least.

"I s'pose." He gave me a boyish grin and I inwardly groaned. "Hey, Nic-Nic" – this time I outwardly groaned – "I've got to give you a new nickname now. How about Ally?" I shook my head in exasperation. "Lex?" I arched an eyebrow. "All right, I admit that was bad." He clapped his hands. "Got it. I'll call you Ava."

I opened my mouth to protest – I even preferred 'Nics' or 'Nic-Nic' over Ava. Ava was personal. I had used the name as a fake a few times before, but this was different. These were people I actually knew and cared about, and Ava was what my father used to call me when I was sad or upset. But I couldn't tell George that, since "military fathers" are not known for their coddling. My lies were unravelling. I had so many different lies with so many different people that just kept getting worse as I added on half-truths. How was I ever going to fix this? When they found out – as I was sure they would – how could they ever trust me?

Wow. Was I usually that angsty, or was that my teenage hormones running rampant?

"Nope, no buts, Miss Ava Lonsen. I will revolt against the prejudices set upon you by your nickname!"

"My middle name is Nicola," I said to him finally, deciding to ignore his nonsensical statement. "My father's mother was Italian."

"What was her name?" he asked me keenly.

I stared at him. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because you never talk about your family," he said, unabashed. "This is the first I've heard about them – except for them being dragon tamers in Romania," he added as I opened my mouth yet again.

I sat down on the step, arranging my skirt like Aunt Helga had always told me to. It seemed the lessons of my two aunts only came out when I was exceedingly uncomfortable or nervous. "Fine," I said, admitting defeat. "Her name was Abelia."

George stared at me. "Isn't that just a really complicated way of saying Abigail?"

"No, it's a type of honeysuckle," I shot back at him. "Anyway, Abigail is longer than Abelia." It was then that we both realized we were small talking. George gasped in horror.

"Do you realize you're a bit of a drama queen?" I asked teasingly.

"Me? A drama queen? You're off your rocker!"

"Dearest Alecta, you might want to look a bit more presentable. I can hardly imagine what they'll say if you show yourself in that."

George and I stopped bantering and looked down the hallways. I recognized that voice, but it couldn't be, not again. "Did you hear that?" asked George.

"Uh-huh," I said.

"Cassandra, leave me alone."

"Or what?" asked Cassandra. My face tightened. Oh, crap.

"George, let's go."

"What?" he said. "Wouldn't a – a – a someone like you find these amazing?"

"A someone?"

"I mean...you know, a smart type."

"That's not even slightly true."

"Oh." He seemed confused, triumphant, and mischievous, all at the same time. "So, you're saying you're not smart?" He was full-out grinning now.

Damn him.

"Forget it," I said, defeated. "Wait a minute – these? Hasn't there only been one?"

"'Course not," said George. "They've been all over. There was one in the middle of our Transfiguration class a few months ago – it was awesome, McGonagall didn't even notice us playing Exploding Snap in the back of the classroom..."

"George!"

"What? It's not like they're interesting. It's history, Ava, and history is never fun." He tapped me on the nose.

I wrinkled my nose and said, "And Exploding Snap is?"

"Ava," said George seriously, clutching a hand to his chest, "you wound me! How dare you insinuate that Exploding Snap is anything less than the best thing on Earth!"

"Easy there, soldier," I said, pushing him away from the spectacle I was currently making down the hall. "Before you go off and start the next Crusades, I would inform you that I wouldn't dream of insinuating anything of the sort."

He eyed me suspiciously, but I saw the flash of amusement on his face. "All right then, Lady Ava," he said boisterously. "I, Sir George, shall make you a partner in Exploding-Snap-related crime!"

"Ouch," I said. "That's it? I must admit, Sir George, I am disappointed. Aren't Sir Lee and Sir Fred your partners in all things crime?"

"Ah, but they are my brothers-in-arms!"

"All right, knock it off with the medieval speech, you're too good at it," I huffed as we walked up more flights of stairs.

"I do apologize."

"You should."

I stopped him when we reached the landing. "So, this has been really fun and all, and your medieval impressions have made it worth dressing up, and I think we should –"

That was when George kissed me. I'm really not sure if he pitied my mumbling or he just wanted to shut me up, but honestly, it was worth it either way. We stood there kissing for about twenty seconds before my lack of oxygen brought me back to my senses.

I stared at him in surprise, and I actually saw my surprise mirrored on his face. I let out a huge breath. "...or we could do that." And with that, I sucked in a breath, drew together all my courage, and bolted.

Did I say courage? I meant cowardice.

I didn't stop running until I hit the Fat Lady (literally), gasped out the password, and fell into the Common Room (also literally). Ron and Hermione were standing on opposite sides of the Common Room, flushed and breathing hard, as though they'd just been shouting. I picked myself up, called, "If George asks, I'm not here," and flew into my dormitory.

"Oh, is that what you said?" asked Hermione finally. "It sounded more like"–she mimed breathing very hard–"George...isn't...not...here..."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Ginny crowed, who was having trouble breathing through her laughter. "Not only did you kiss my brother, but you bungled kissing my brother!"

"Thank you, Ginny," I said sarcastically. "I really wanted to know exactly what you thought of that."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm going upstairs to change. Nicci, unless you want to look like a raccoon tomorrow morning, I suggest you do the same."

"I'll be up in a minute," I called after her. "...Mum," I added under my breath.

"You need a mum," Ginny said, wiping tears from her eyes. "Scratch that, you need a keeper."

I stuck my tongue out at her. "How was Michael Corner?" I was really hoping to get back at her.

She raised her eyebrows, but blushed all the same. "He was nice," she said. "I like him a lot. He's a Ravenclaw, but he's not a know-it-all. He seems to like me too."

"Well, at least one of us got lucky," I mumbled. "What about Hermione?"

"She was arguing with Ron about Krum. No matter how you spin it, screaming at your best friend about your Yule date is not a lucky break. Guess I'm the best we've got."

"We're doomed," I muttered.

"Har-har," said Ginny. She looked me over. "Those robes can't be comfortable, and Hermione's right – you'll look a right mess if you don't go clean up now."

"'Night," I said, as I pushed off from the bed and headed towards the door.

"Have georgeous dreams tonight, Nicci!"

I stopped in the doorway and glared at her. "Very funny, Ginny, george-ous dreams. Bloody hilarious."

"What are you talking about?" said Ginny innocently.

I stalked out of the room and slammed the door loudly behind me. I then opened it, whispered, "Sorry," and closed the door again.

I could actually hear Ginny's laughter follow me up the stairs.

A/N: Well, now. Ginny and Alecta are becoming better friends. Yay!

I know I've done a really bad job explaining Alecta's past and stuff, but that's because 5th year is basically my big information dump. She won't be around at Hogwarts very much (I think that if I have Alecta and Umbridge interact, I'll end up killing her and that is really, really not canon), but you will get to spend more time with Erised, Ben, and Hailey, as well as meeting the other immortals. It'll be one majorly awesome party. But you'll have to wait for the end of 4th year!

Sorry.

I am currently disclaiming my work, but I refuse to write it out because it's stupid. Everyone knows this isn't mine.