Chapter 30: Getting Dates

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters

A/N: I really gotta start writing these sooner oh my god

"I have something to say to you all," Came McGonagall's voice at the end of a transfiguration class. "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 -"

A couple students started giggling, but she forced herself to ignore them.

"Dress robes will be worn, and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall." McGonagall stared at the class, giving us all a stern look. "The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to — er — let our hair down," she said, in a disapproving voice.

The giggling got louder and, if I'm being honest, I did find the irony of her saying that with a tight bun on top of her head kind of funny.

"But that does NOT mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour 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 everyone shuffled around to get their things ready, swinging our bags over our shoulders.

As I walked down the halls, I could clearly see everyone excited about the idea of a ball. Girls were talking about what dresses they would wear, boys were discussing how to ask someone to be their partner, and I was confused as to why they called it the Yule Ball.

Couldn't they just call it a dance? What exactly was the difference anyways? Is a ball technically more formal, and if so, how formal would this one be? Let's be honest, this is Hogwarts where everything is extravagant. It's going to be an overly dramatic ball, isn't it?

Ugh, I'm probably going to have to wear something formal.

Turning to Will, I asked, "Can't I just wear a t-shirt and jeans?"

"What- no!" His eyes were wide and he looked overly scandalized by what I'd said. "I can't be seen with someone dressed so casually at a ball!"

My eyes narrowed at him, "Excuse me?"

"Come on," he said in a whiny voice, "you need to get all dressed up with me. When are we going to get the chance again?"

I huffed in annoyance and rolled my eyes. "Fine."

I guess I would like to see him wearing something more formal.

"So," he elbowed me in the side, "go to the ball with me?" He threw me a crooked smile as we walked through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room.

"Yeah," I said, face growing a little hotter, "who else would I go with?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, but I'm sure a lot of people would ask you."

We sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, Will's hair shining in the gentle light.

"And why would anyone do that?"

"Because," he leaned in close and brushed his lips over my cheek, "you're adorable."

He settled his head on my shoulder and we sat there for a while in silence, just enjoying each other's company.

The scent of his cologne enveloped me and it felt as though he was all around me, giving me the warmest embrace.

"I'm pretty sure there'd be a lineup of people ready to ask you out," I said, finally breaking our silence.

He chuckled quietly, "Sure, but I'd turn them down immediately."

I smiled, resting my cheek on top of his head.

Gods, I love you.

...

"I suppose there's always Moaning Myrtle," Harry said on a Friday morning at Breakfast.

Apparently, he and Ron hadn't actually asked anyone to the ball yet, and they seemed to be stressing about getting dates.

"Who's Moaning Myrtle?"

"Just a ghost in one of the girls bathrooms," Hermione answered.

Hmm, I should talk to her.

"Harry — we've just got to grit our teeth and do it," Ron said as if he had a plan. "When we get back to the common room tonight, we'll both have partners — agreed?"

"Er . . . okay," said Harry.

"So," Will said, leaning in closer to them, "who do you want to ask?"

Both of them reddened, looking down in embarrassment.

"Well, Harry probably wants to ask Cho Chang," Hermione said, smiling. "And Ron is probably dreaming about Fleur Delacour."

"No, I'm not!"

"Shut up, Hermione!"

"Really, Fleur?" Will snickered. "You really want to ask her?"

"No- I- shut up!"

Chuckling, I asked, "Who's Cho Chang?"

Hermione turned to look at the Ravenclaw table, before discreetly nodding at a beautiful girl with long black hair.

"Huh," I said, nodding, "I guess she is pretty."

"Hey," Will gasped, mocking offence.

"Just an observation," I shrugged.

Harry put his forehead down on the table, "I don't think I can do it."

"Oh, come on. You'll be fine!" Ron said. "You're Harry Potter!" Then he stood up and said, "I'll meet you at dinner," and ran off.

...

Later that day, we were sitting in the common room with a pale faced Ron, his sister trying to sooth him.

"What's up, Ron?" said Harry, walking closer.

"Why did I do that?" he said, looking up with an unfocussed gaze. He seemed to be horrified and yet confused. ""I don't know what made me do it!"

"What?" said Harry.

"He — er — just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him," said Ginny. She was fighting back a smile, still trying to console him.

"You what?" said Harry.

"I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped again. "What was I playing at? There were people — all around — I've gone mad — everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall — she was standing there talking to Diggory — and it sort of came over me — and I asked her!"

I stifled a laugh. This was not the time to laugh.

Ron put his head in his hands and continued. "She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then — I dunno — I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."

"She's part veela," said Harry. "You were right — her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault, I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it — but she was wasting her time. He's going with Cho Chang."

Ron looked up.

"I asked her to go with me just now," Harry said dully, "and she told me."

I bit my tongue, still doing my best not to laugh out loud.

"This is mad," said Ron. "We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone — well, except Neville. Hey — guess who he asked? Hermione!"

"What?"

"Yeah, I know!" Ron was starting to look like himself again. "He told me after Potions! Said she's always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff — but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn't want to go with Neville . . . I mean, who would?"

"Don't!" said Ginny, annoyed. "Don't laugh —"

Then, Hermione walked through the portrait hole. "Why weren't you two at dinner?" she said, coming over to join us.

"Because — oh shut up laughing, you two — because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!" said Ginny.

Harry and Ron stopped laughing, leaving me to chuckle to myself.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," said Ron sourly.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" Hermione scoffed. "I suppose you wouldn't mind going with someone who isn't conventionally attractive, now? "

Ron was looking at her as if he had finally realized something. "Hermione, Neville's right — you are a girl. . . ."

"Oh well spotted," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"Well — you can come with one of us!"

"No, I can't," snapped Hermione.

"Oh come on," he said impatiently, "we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has . . ."

"I can't come with you," said Hermione, now blushing, "because I'm already going with someone."

"No, you're not!" said Ron. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

"Oh did I?" A dark look settled over Hermione's features. She was very clearly angry and Ron was very clearly in danger. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"

Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again. "Okay, okay, we know you're a girl," he said. "That do? Will you come now?"

"I've already told you! I'm going with someone else!" She stormed off toward the girls' dormitories.

"She's lying," said Ron flatly, watching her go.

"She's not," said Ginny quietly.

"Who is it then?" said Ron sharply.

"I'm not telling you, it's her business," said Ginny.

"Right, this is getting stupid. Ginny, you can go with Harry, and I'll just —"

"I can't," now it was Ginny's turn to blush. "I'm going with — with Neville. He asked me when Hermione said no, and I thought. . . well . . . I'm not going to be able to go otherwise, I'm not in fourth year." She looked extremely miserable. "I think I'll go and have dinner," she said, and she got up and walked off to the portrait hole.

Both Ron and Harry sighed in defeat, the latter sitting down on the couch beside Ron.

"You know," Will started, "you don't need to ask someone to be your date."

"That's not true," Harry sighed, "I need a dance partner because I'm one of the champions."

"And I'll look stupid if I go alone."

"That's not what I meant," Will rolled his eyes. "You two can go together."

They both stared in silence for a couple seconds.

"Sorry, we don't-"

"We're not-"

"That's not what I meant," Will said, laughing. "You can go as friends. You don't need an actual date."

"Oooh," Harry said, eyes widening in understanding.

He turned to Ron and cocked his head in a silent question.

Ron frowned for a moment, thinking it over, before shrugging. "Yeah, why not," he nodded.

"Great," I said, "problem solved."

A/N: Alright, I'm going to change the update schedule to every Saturday, because I can't seem to find enough time to update every Friday. Sorry guys, but I hope that's alright.

And I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)