Chapter 1: The Bet and the Dance
Ron and Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room, lamenting their prospects of finding dates for the Yule Ball. The fire crackled and sparked, more alive than Ron felt. "We're in real trouble, mate," said Ron.
Harry groaned, and sank deeper into the armchair he was sitting in. "Don't remind me."
"It's not going to go away if we don't do something about it."
"Stop being sensible," Harry grumbled. He sighed, and sat up. "I suppose we've already been shot down by our first asks. What's a little more rejection?"
Fred clapped Harry on the shoulder, and said, "That's the spirit Harry. If your heart is already broken, it can't be broken much more."
George appeared next to him. "In fact, if you're up for a little fun, why don't we make a bet out of it."
Ron looked at him skeptically. "As if we'd be stupid enough to bet against you."
"It doesn't have to be anything too big," said George, holding his hands up. "It's just a little fun at the ball."
"What are you proposing?" asked Harry.
"Simple," said Fred. "Ask a girl out that we wouldn't expect in the Great Hall, and if she says yes, we'll owe each of you a favor."
"And if we lose?" asked Ron.
"We'll wear ballet shoes to the ball," said George.
Ron shared a look with Harry. He thought about it for a moment. It wouldn't be that much more embarrassing than asking out Fleur. And there wasn't really any penalty if they lost. "If you're up for it, mate…"
"Doesn't sound that bad. We'll do it."
"It's settled then," said George, with a wink. "We'll be looking forward to dinner with you."
Fred and George left, leaving Ron and Harry to think about their predicament. Now they just had to think up a girl that Fred and George wouldn't expect him to go with. Ron mentally took a step back, and thought about the least likely person that Ron Weasley would go with. They'd have to be a Slytherin. But she couldn't be anyone that Ron couldn't stand to look at. That didn't narrow it down as much as Ron would have liked. No, the real question would be: who was still unattached?
With those three conditions in mind, Ron could only think of one person: the ice queen, Daphne Greengrass.
Daphne walked into the Great Hall hungry and tired. She'd stayed up far too late writing that transfiguration essay for McGonagall, and now she was paying the consequences. She sat down at the Slytherin table, and started filling her plate with mashed potatoes, roast beef, and a dinner roll.
Tracey was sitting beside her, jabbering on about something Pansy had said before charms, when she suddenly went quiet. Daphne turned to look at her, only to spot someone else standing behind her in the corner of her eye.
"Greengrass, would you come with me to the Yule Ball?" asked Ron Weasley.
Daphne blinked trying to process what she'd been asked. "What?
Weasley flushed, and said again, "Would you go with me to the Yule Ball?"
"Oh." She processed that statement a little more. "What?"
Tracey giggled, and Weasley turned an even deeper shade of red. Daphne's mind was racing. She hadn't been asked by anyone yet, so she'd been considering asking Blaise Zabini. And now Weasley was asking her in front of the entire Great Hall. Most of the conversations had quieted, waiting with bated breath her answer.
"You don't have do it, if you don't want," said Ron quietly, and from his expression, she almost thought he wanted her to say no.
"Give me a moment," said Daphne. "You caught me off guard."
Thoughts about the internal politics of Slytherin fluttered through her mind, followed by what she expected her family to think, and then, only then did she think about how she felt. Mostly it was just confused.
"Well, we've never really talked before, and—"
"Yes," said Daphne, cutting him off.
"What?"
"Yes, I'll go with you to the Yule Ball."
"Oh," Weasley looked surprised. As well he should, considering that Daphne was surprised she'd said yes, too. "Alright then."
"I'll meet you before the entrance just before 7. Don't be late."
"I-I won't," said Weasley, and he walked back towards the Gryffindor table, a little jaunt in his step.
"What on earth was that?" asked Tracey, whispering in her ear.
"No idea, Tracey."
Ron sat back down next to Harry, his stomach still full of butterflies. He had a date to the Yule Ball with Daphne Greengrass. Hermione leaned across the table and said, "Greengrass? Ron, what on earth possessed you to ask her?"
"It's none of your business who I attend the ball with," retorted Ron, thinking of her refusal to speak up her date.
"I—fine, be that way."
Ron patted Harry on the back. "Your turn, mate."
"Y-yeah," said Harry, and he swallowed nervously. Steeling himself, Harry stood and walked towards the staff table. He made eye contact with Professor McGonagall.
"Mr. Poter, do you intend to ask me to the ball?" she asked.
"Er, yes?" said Harry.
"While I'm flattered, aren't there any students who you could take?"
"I made a bet…" Harry admitted.
McGonagall looked him straight in the eye, and said, "Mr. Potter, while I appreciate your forwardness, you really should ask one of the students to be your date. I am charmed that you would ask me, though."
Someone started clapping, and soon the whole hall was filled with applause. As Harry sat down, red-faced, Ron said, "McGonagall? You asked McGonagall?"
Fred stood up from his place at the table and put his hands on their shoulders. "Well, that was enlightening. Just for asking McGonagall, Harry, I think you win the bet. We'll still be wearing those ballet shoes, though."
"Right." Harry looked at his food dejectedly. "I still need a date."
"Think maybe you should have asked someone who'd say yes?" asked Ron. "Asking McGonagall was inspired, I'll admit, but you need the date more than I do."
"Yeah, I know." Harry turned his attention to his meal, and Ron joined him. But his mind couldn't help but think through the implications of his upcoming date. Daphne was one of the best looking girls in their year, and she was going with him? He'd been the envy of his classmates. They would all be jealous of him. They wouldn't really be jealous of his dress robes, though. The color drained from his face. He'd never be able to show up to to the ball in that, even more than ever.
Malfoy cornered Daphne in the Slytherin common room later that evening. "What do you think you're doing, going with a Weasley?" he half whispered, half hissed.
Daphne gave him one of her signature icy stares. "It's none of your business who I associate with."
"You think your father would happy with you being with a Gryffindor?"
Daphne intensified her stare, enough that Malfoy backed off a little. "I don't need help dealing with my own family—you can hardly deal with your own."
With that, Daphne turned and went to her dorm, collapsing on her bed. Why had she said yes? The only redeeming quality he had was his friendship with Harry Potter, and even that hadn't stopped them from having a row after Potter had been chosen as champion. Otherwise he was poor to average in his studies, had a rather big temper, and didn't have much—if any—table manners, if the glimpses she'd seen of him eating over the years were any indication.
He wasn't anything special.
Tracey came in and sat next to her. "Want to tell me what's up with you and Weasley?"
"There's nothing to say. I've never spoken to him before."
"There isn't anything else going on?"
Daphne sat up and looked at her friend. "What do you think is going on?"
"I haven't got a clue. I thought you were going to go with Zabini."
"I was. Or I was going to if no one else asked me." Daphne brushed a lock of blonde hair that had gotten free behind her ear. "I'm still trying to figure out why I said yes myself."
"Obviously you're just after the Weasley money," said Tracey.
Daphne scoffed. "The Weasleys have no money, Tracey."
"That was the joke, Daph."
"It wasn't funny."
"It wasn't supposed to be. Daph, you know that if you ever need to talk to me about something, you can."
"I know." Daphne nodded to her friend. "I'm going to bed."
"Night, Daph."
Ron spent the next week worrying about what he was going to wear to the ball. Whatever he did, he wasn't going to be wearing the raggy mess his mum had packed him. Without anywhere to really turn, he wrote Sirius, asking for his advice.
In the meanwhile, Harry managed to ask out Parvati Patil for a date, so he was covered for the ball. Hermione was still tight-lipped about who her date was, but Ron was starting to care less about it.
Two days after writing Sirius, Ron received a package at breakfast with dark red dress robes. They were either brand new or barely worn, and the note said:
Ron,
These were some robes that my younger brother wore. He might be a little mad they're being given to a lion, but they should fit you nicely. And remember: you're responsible for showing your date a good time.
Snuffles
Hermione frowned as she read the note. "Didn't your mum get you some dress robes?"
"Yeah. Terrible maroon ones. With lace."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry said, "It was good of Snuffles to do that."
"I think I've got everything I need for the ball, then." Ron stuffed in another mouthful of toast, and sipped his pumpkin juice. "Kinda nice not to have to worry about it."
Harry nodded in agreement. Hermione cut in and asked, "Did you manage to finish your Transfiguration essays last night? They're due today, and…"
Daphne endured more than a few sideways glances and hushed whispers in the two weeks before the ball, but other than a few concerned looks from Tracey, and a quick conversation with her sister Astoria, she didn't bother paying them any attention. She found herself glancing at Weasley in class, without meaning to, and mostly found what she expected to see. Weasley was unfocused, and more than once, she caught his eye. No matter. It would be one date, and then she could forget him and move on.
The night of the ball came sooner than she would have liked. And then she was getting ready, which involved more than two hours of makeup and hairdressing. She'd chosen a sky blue dress, and wore a necklace her father had given her two years ago for Christmas.
Tracey was going in a light pink dress, which matched very well with her dark brown side-braid. Her date for the night was Theodore Nott, and Daphne left her behind to wait for him in front of the Slytherin common room.
She climbed the stairs out of the dungeon, and wondered what kind of robes Weasley would wear. She hoped he'd managed to get something nice. As she reached the entrance to the Great Hall, she found herself unable to take another step. A million thoughts and regrets and wishes flooded through her head, but she shook them off and stepped around the corner.
Weasley was standing next to the grand staircase, looking about with a nervous look about his face. He was wearing dark red dress robes, which complimented his neatly combed hair nicely, and when he saw he, he offered her a smile.
So Weasley could at least dress up nice. That was a start. He came over and offered her his arm, which she took, and they went into the Great Hall. The house tables had been cleared away, replaced by a host of round tables that covered most of the floor, except right in front of the staff tables, where a space for dancing had been cleared. The twelve great christmas trees had been given a makeover, with silver garlands and gold baubles adorning them. Icicles now hung in the air, joining the candles already there.
Weasley leaned down and said to her, "You look good, Greengrass."
"Thank you. You managed to dress up nice. Where'd you get those robes?"
"Er, a family friend gave them to me."
"Really? Who?" It wasn't that she didn't think the Weasleys didn't have friends. But as Daphne had gotten a closer look, the robes were a fine silk, and she thought she saw several minor but complicated enchantments on them as well. Whoever these robes were from, they were well off.
"They're—it doesn't matter." Weasley's expression seemed evasive.
"I was only asking because they're fine robes. From what I know of your family, they don't seem like the type to invest in robes as good as these." Daphne hoped that felt non-confrontational enough. She didn't want to alienate her date before they'd even sat down.
"We're a simple family," said Weasley, and Daphne didn't push further. It'd be rude to bring it up more.
"Sometimes simple is good," said Daphne.
"Simple would've had me wear the robes my mum packed me. Horrible maroon color—with lots of lace."
Daphne pictured Weasley in what he'd described, and then shuddered. "Good thing your family friend came through, then."
"Yeah." Weasley cleared his throat, and asked, "So, where'd you want to sit?"
She looked around at the already seated couples, and spotted Malfoy and Parkinson on one end of the Great Hall. Nodding in their direction, Daphne said, "We'll avoid them."
"Definitely," Weasley agreed, and they sat on the other end of the hall, and her date remembered to pull out a chair for her. Daphne quietly added another point to his favor—at the very least, he was competent as a date so far.
The other couple sitting at the table was Michael Corner and one of the Patil twins, both from Ravenclaw, and Daphne thought they were innocent enough dinner companions. Ravenclaws insulted your intelligence, not your social standing. A minute later, though, Neville Longbottom and—was that Weasley's sister?—joined them at the table.
They'd barely exchanged pleasantries when the champions arrived with fanfare. First came Diggory and his date Chang—Daphne recognized her from the Ravenclaw quidditch team—and then Delacour and her date Roger Davies. There was an audible gasp as Krum entered with his date. Daphne didn't recognize the girl at first, only to realize it was Granger. Seeing them together was baffling. How had she gotten such a catch?
Weasley seemed to be just as shocked as she was. She leaned over and asked, "Did you know they were going together?"
He shook her head. "Hermione didn't say a thing about him."
"She cleans up nice," Daphne said, and Weasley just hummed in response. Probably better to not bring her up much tonight.
And then Potter came in with the other Patil twin, and the champions all took their seats at the high table, along with the tournament organizers. Dumbledore said a few words, before announcing the start of the meal. Plates appeared in front of each occupied seat, empty and waiting for an order to be placed. Daphne decided on a lemon parmesan chicken with steamed asparagus on the side, while Weasley ordered a large steak, and tore into it immediately. He did seem to be curbing most of his usual table habits, though.
After they'd gotten a few bites in, Weasley actually initiated the conversation, asking her, "So, Greengrass, what kind of interests do you have? I'm rather big into quidditch, myself."
A man of sports. Not that Daphne was surprised, given who his family was. "I do enjoy a good quidditch match; but I don't play. My father takes me to Puddlemere United games, and they play a good game."
Weasley sighed. "Seems like everyone I meet is a United fan. I prefer the Cannons, myself. They're have a good year one day."
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "You cheer for the Cannons?"
Weasley nodded sheepishly.
"What a coincidence. They're my prefered team as well—though father agonizes that he hasn't gotten me to cheer for United—we own part of the team, after all, but there's just something magnetic about the Cannons that makes you want to root for them."
Weasley leaned forward earnestly. "I totally thought we had the game against the Tornadoes last week, but that last foul was bul—brutal."
They managed to talk quidditch all through dinner, and Daphne discovered that while he had only been to one Cannons game, he'd actually sat top box for the World Cup, thanks to a Ministry drawing, and that after school he was considering trying to go professional—he hadn't been on the team due to the previous captain being their Keeper, and was going to try for Keeper this year until it had been canceled.
Weasley's sister cut in a couple of times as well, but she was polite and didn't try to take over the conversation. Eventually the discussion moved from quidditch to Weasley's family.
"—Bill's a curse breaker at Gringotts, Charlie's in Romania at a dragon preserve, and Percy's working with Crouch at the Ministry. I think he's filling in for him tonight, actually." Sure enough, when Daphne looked at the head table, Percy Weasley was deep in conversation with Professor Flitwick.
"I see him."
"He can be a bit of a prat, though. He even sent me a letter warning against associating with Harry after he got chosen as champion."
"Warning about what?" asked Daphne.
"Harry's a glory seeker, apparently, and not a good influence."
"It does seem that way," said Daphne neutrally.
Weasley inhaled, and almost shouted, "Harry's not like that!"
"I never said he was," said Daphne quickly, before people looked their way. "Just that with all the things he gets wrapped up in, he comes off that way."
"It's not about glory," said Weasley's sister. "He saved my life last year from the basilisk."
"There actually was a basilisk?"
"What do you think petrified all those people?" demanded Weasley.
"It's just that basilisks aren't common, at all. You actually saw the beast?" Now Daphne was curious. She'd heard rumors, of course, but she hadn't heard from anyone who was there.
Weasley's sister nodded. "It was at least sixty feet long."
Daphne stared at her for a moment. "You're serious."
"Sounds right," said Weasley. "The snakeskin was pretty big."
"Sixty feet?" Daphne couldn't keep the incredulity out of her voice. "I haven't heard of one bigger than twenty."
"Well," said Michael Corner, butting in, "if it was Slytherin's monster, it could've been a thousand years old. If it was, I'd believe its size."
"I suppose." Daphne turned back to Weasley's sister. "How did he kill it?"
"I didn't see it," said Ginny, "but he killed it with the Sword of Gryffindor. It's in Dumbledore's office now."
"How'd he get the sword?"
"I think he got it from the sorting hat. That's what he told me afterwards, anyway."
"Why did he have the—no, actually, why don't you tell me the story from the beginning?"
Weasley's sister laid out her story, explaining how the heir of Slytherin had taken her into the Chamber of Secrets; then Weasley told his part of them figuring out where the Chamber was, including a nasty trip into the Forbidden Forest to see a an acromantula nest on the recommendation of Hagrid, deducing its location in the girl's bathroom, and their encounter with Professor Lockhart, and his deception and the subsequent fallout of his betrayal. Then Weasley turned it over to his sister again to describe what she knew of Harry's battle with the heir and the basilisk.
While Daphne found the story hard to believe, she couldn't deny that their story fit the series of events that had taken place throughout the school year, including the massive amount of house points the Gryffindors had received at the end of term and the subsequent disappearance of Lockhart.
By the time the two finished their story, the dance floor had opened, and the champions had already taken their obligatory first dance. Daphne led Weasley out onto the floor at the start of the next song. As he took her hand in his and put his other at her hip, he said, "Just so you know, I'm no good at dancing. I did go to the couple practice sessions McGonagall set up, though."
"Follow my lead, then," said Daphne. Daphne almost took away another point from Weasley, but if he really had faced down a horde of acromantulas, then she could forgive him for some stiff dancing.
But after he had trod on her toes one too many times, Daphne sighed, and said, "You're thinking about this too much, Weasley, so you're stiff. Imagine that each step is another quaffle coming your way, and they're coming at you in rhythm."
To her surprise, this advice was actually helpful, and they actually managed to keep tempo with the next song, which had a rather quick beat. When the song ended, Daphne was breathing hard, and she gave him a soft smile. "Better. I'm ready for a break and some drinks."
"Alright," he said. "I'll go get them, if you want to go back to our table. What d'you want?"
"Whatever they're serving for punch should be good."
Daphne made her way back to their table, and found that Potter was sitting there, alone. He nodded at her. "Greengrass."
"Potter." Daphne sat down. She paused. "Is it true that you killed a sixty foot basilisk to save Ginny Weasley in the Chamber of Secrets."
Potter's cheeks turn a light pink, and he said, "Yeah, I did. Though I couldn't have done it if Fawkes hadn't brought me the Sorting Hat and taken out its eyes."
"Whatever help you had, that's still impressive." Daphne studied him for a moment. "Weasley told me the story over dinner, so I was just curious."
Potter nodded. "We've been through a lot. I wouldn't have been able to get through them without Ron or Hermione."
"They seem like good friends."
Harry smiled. "They are."
Weasley arrived then with the drinks, and set hers down in front of her. Daphne thanked him and took a sip. Whatever was in the drink, it was stronger than she had been expecting, and the drink burned as she swallowed it. Daphne must have made a face, as Weasley asked, "Did you not like it? I can get another."
"No, it's fine," said Daphne. "Stronger than I was expecting."
"If you're sure, then," said Weasley. Then he turned to Potter. "How's it going?"
"I'm a little bored," said Potter. "How about you?"
"I've been having a great time. Greengrass is a great date."
Daphne felt some blood fill her cheeks, but Weasley didn't seem to notice. "After we've had some time to rest, I think we're going to go back out on the floor."
"Good for you," said Potter, and he took another swig from his drink.
"Will your date be joining us?" asked Daphne.
"Parvati's still out dancing. I might go find her later."
"Probably should sooner rather than later, mate," said Weasley. "You're responsible for showing her a good time, you know."
Potter looked at him strangely, so Weasley continued. "Advice from our shaggy friend."
That sent a look of recognition through Potter's face, and he sighed. "I guess I'll go find her, then."
"If you're having trouble dancing, just trying thinking of it like a quidditch drill," said Weasley as Potter left the table. "That was good of you," said Daphne.
"Just passing on the advice I've got, since it seems to be working," he said.
"Who's this shaggy friend?"
"The family friend I mentioned earlier," said Weasley.
"What's he like?" she asked, seeing if he'd saying anything more about him.
"He has a bit of a wild side," said Weasley.
Daphne took another sip from her drink—having had one sip already, she was able to better ignore the burning in her throat. "Would I know this person by name?"
Weasley nodded, and then seemed to think better of it, and shook his head. But he'd already slipped up. "So he's a person I'd know by name, then. Alright, I think I have a few guesses. What else can you tell me about him?"
"I'm not saying anything more. He's not—he's a private person."
But Daphne had herself a mission—to find out the identity of Ron's family friend before the evening was out.
Ron sighed to himself. He'd said more than he intended to about Sirius to her, and he could tell she wouldn't give this up. Sure, he could give a quick lie, but he'd rather not. He was actually enjoying his time with Greengrass, and he'd rather not spoil it with talk about Sirius. She seemed to believe him about the Chamber and his second year, but Sirius's story was even more far fetched. He took another sip from his drink, enjoying the way it burned down his throat. They were rather strong drinks, but Greengrass seemed to enjoy them well enough.
"Are you about ready to head back out?" asked Ron.
"Give me a moment." Greengrass down the rest of her drink, took a deep breath, and smiled. It was a bit odd—he hadn't seen her smile before, he thought. Ron offered her his arm and led her out to the dance floor. The song wasn't quite over, but he spotted Hermione off to the side, so he said to Greengrass, "I'm gonna go talk to Hermione real quick. I'll be back for the next song."
Greengrass nodded, and he made his way over to where Hermione was standing.
Hermione spotted him, and said, "Ron! I haven't seen you all night."
"Hermione! How on earth did you get a date with Krum?"
"Well, all those times he was in the library—he was actually there to talk to me, he just hadn't mustered up the courage. Then he asked, and I said yes."
"You'll have to get me—"
"Herm-one-ninny, I have brought drinks," said Krum, appearing by her side.
"Oh, Victor, thank you." Hermione took the drink.
Krum turned to him, and said, "You are vun of Herm-one-ninny's friends, yes?"
"R-Ron Weasley," he said. "I'm a big fan."
Krum grunted. Hermione looked to Krum, and said, "He's been my friend since first year."
"Yeah, but I had to fight a troll first," said Ron. Then he heard the song end, and said, "Oh, I've got to catch my date for the next song. Good meeting you."
As he walked back to Greengrass, he could hear Hermione trying to convince Krum that he needn't fight a troll to gain her friendship—and Krum agreed, saying that facing down the dragon he'd fought counted.
Ron laughed to himself, and found Daphne waiting for him just as the music started. As he took her hand, she asked, "What's so funny?"
"Krum's trying to one up me after I told him that I had to fight a troll to be Hermione's friend."
Greengrass looked confused for a moment, then that curious and unsure look came on her face again. "You don't mean you fought off that troll from first-year?"
"Knocked it out with its own club," confirmed Ron.
"How did that happen?" asked Greengrass. So Ron told her the story, and Greengrass gave him another awed look, the kind that made his chest puff up in pride.
"You're more than I gave you credit for, Weasley," she said. "But I guess you really belong in the lion's house."
Ron thought on it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I do."
"The robes helped, too," Greengrass added, and Ron realized she'd only said that to bring up Sirius again.
"Still not saying anything."
They danced in silence for a few minutes, and Ron found it harder and harder to look away from Greengrass's face. There was something captivating about the way her bright blue eyes were looking at him. They were softer than they had been at the beginning of the night.
Then Greengrass stumbled, and Ron caught her before she could fall. "Are you alright?" Ron asked quickly.
Greengrass winced, and said, "I think I turned my ankle."
"Let's go sit back down, then," said Ron, and she nodded, leaning against him as he led her back to their table. As she sat down, Ron asked, "Does it hurt much?"
"I think it's a bit more numb right now," said Greengrass. She pursed her lips. "Have you ever hurt your ankle before?"
Ron nodded. "At the end of last year, a mad dog attacked me and bit me on my leg. Hurt like mad, I'll tell you."
"How'd that happen?"
Ron thought quickly, and settled on a much abbreviated series of events. "Harry, Hermione, and I had just visited Hagrid before Buckbeak was executed, and we were just walking by the Whomping Willow, when the dog came running from the Forbidden Forest and attacked me. It tried to drag me away, but Professor Lupin was there a moment later, and sent the dog off."
"So the dog's still out there, then?" asked Greengrass.
"I think I might have seen it in Hogsmeade, actually," said Ron. "But I think it got out all of its people biting on me."
Greengrass raised an eyebrow. "How can you be sure?"
"A gut feeling, really," said Ron. "D'you want another drink?"
She blinked. "Sure."
"I'll be right back, then," he said, standing up.
"You'll have to tell me the rest of the story when you get back," said Greengrass.
"How'd you know there's more?"
There was a twinkle in her eye. "A gut feeling, really."
Ron chuckled, and went over to the drinks station, grabbing two more. He spotted Fred nearby, and walked over. "Oi, Fred!"
Fred looked up, and gave him a winning smile. "Brother of mine! How's been your evening?"
"Real good, actually. Greengrass's a good conversation. She's a Cannons fan, actually. How are your feet faring?"
Fred lifted up the hem of his dress robes, showing off his ballet shoes. "Just fine, thank you."
Ron nodded, and headed back towards his table. Sitting next to Greengrass was Percy, and they seemed deep in conversation. "—the point where he had to enter a tournament he shouldn't have been able to get into."
"That's not what he claims," said Greengrass.
"I don't buy his story about it. Not consistent with him at all."
"I think if he was that attached to glory, he'd be boasting about the sixty foot basilisk he killed to save your sister." Wait, was she defending Harry? To Percy?
That flustered him. "Well, that's hardly—sixty feet?"
"That's what your sister said—and she saw the dead thing."
At that point Ron sat down, and set Greengrass's drink in front of her. His brother turned his attention to him, saying, "Ah, Ron, good to see you. Did you get my letter, earlier?"
"I did," said Ron.
"And?"
"I thought about your advice, and after thinking about it, I've decided to trust Harry."
Percy turned a bit red. "He's leading you around the fence, Ron. If you—"
"If I what? You don't know what we've faced together. A troll, a cerberus, a nest of acromantulas, a basilisk, dementors, and Sirius Black!"
"You faced down Sirius Black?" said Greengrass, before Percy could say anything else. "I'd like to hear that story."
Percy looked like he was about to storm off, when Hermione and Krum came over. "Ron! There you are—we were looking all over for you."
"Oh, I was just at the drinks station."
"That would explain it," said Hermione. "Hello Percy."
"Hello Hermione," he said stiffly. "Your date?"
"Oh, of course. Victor, this is Percy, Ron's older brother—he works at the Ministry now, with Mr. Crouch."
Krum grunted, and turned his attention to Greengrass. "And this is Daphne Greengrass," Hermione continued, "Ron's date."
"You have good taste," Krum said to him.
Ron gulped. "You as well."
Hermione pinked, and Krum chuckled. Ron felt an inner victory—he'd gotten Krum to laugh. Then Greengrass said with a smirk, "Ron was just telling us some of his stories, and mentioned an encounter with Sirius Black."
Hermione looked at him sharply, but Krum, Greengrass—wait, had she called him by name?—and Percy all looked very curious. "I didn't mean to mention it," said Ron. "It wasn't much of anything anyway."
"Oh?" said Greengrass.
"If you remember the night that we slept in the Great Hall, that was because Sirius broke into my dorm room and stood over my bed with a knife in his hand."
"Oh my!" Greengrass—wait, should he call her Daphne now?—put a hand over her mouth. "I hadn't heard that—just that he'd gotten in the castle."
"I shouted bloody murder, and he disappeared. Scared right off." Ron didn't mention how scared he had been at the time. Looking back on it now, it was kind of funny.
Daphne—he was calling her that now—frowned. "Why was he over your bed and not Potter's?"
"D'you really think he was sane after all those years?" asked Ron, avoiding that he knew the answer why.
"I suppose." But the way Daphne was looking at him, she wasn't buying his story.
"Well," said Percy, standing, "it's been good visiting with you, but I should talk to a few more people before the night's over." And he left with a sad glance at Ron.
"Good talking with you," said Daphne.
While everyone was looking Percy's way, Hermione gave Ron a look that said 'we'll talk this over later'. Ron sighed. He supposed he talking a bit too much.
"Oh, I see Harry," said Hermione. "I'll go fetch him."
Once she had gone, Krum looked at Ron and said, "You have other stories?"
"I suppose I have a few," said Ron. It felt odd to have an idol of his asking him questions, but exciting as well. "How about the time I encountered a cerberus?"
Daphne and Krum both listened intently to Ron as he described how Malfoy had set them up, their subsequent flight from Filch, and then their encounter with Fluffy. Hermione arrived just in time to hear him quote her famous line: "You're going to get killed—or worse, expelled!"
That made Krum laugh again, much to Hermione's bemusement. When he didn't see Harry, Ron asked, "So what's Harry up to?"
"He's still with Parvati—she wanted to dance some more. Harry didn't look happy about that, but he stayed with her."
"He is a gentleman, then," said Krum.
"Naw, I just gave him a kick in the arse earlier."
Daphne spluttered as she took a drink, nearly spilling it on her dress. "Are you alright?" Ron asked. Daphne nodded sheepishly, wiping her chin with a napkin.
"What do you mean, kick in the—well…" said Hermione.
"Arse? He was pouting over here earlier, and I told him it was his responsibility to make sure his date had a good time."
Hermione gave him a strange look, so Ron added, "Advice from Sir—Snuffles."
"Oh, right."
"Good advice," said Krum. He turned to Hermione. "Herm-one-ninny, are you enjoying tonight?"
"I am," she said, smiling at him.
"How about you, Daphne?" asked Ron.
"It's been fun," said Daphne, and she smiled at him as well. He rather liked her smile, he thought.
"How's your ankle, then?" he asked.
"Feeling better, actually. I wouldn't mind going for another dance."
"Alright then." Ron stood up and helped Daphne to her feet. She tested her ankle, and Ron could see that she felt a little pain, but since she didn't say anything, he assumed she was fine.
The song playing was a slow one, which suited Ron just fine. He had to hold Daphne a little closer to make sure she didn't fall, which made him feel excited. He could see why girls liked to dance.
As the song changed, Daphne leaned a little closer, and whispered, "I think I figured out who your family friend is."
Ron pushed down a nervous jump in his stomach. Had he given it away? "Who?"
"It's Sirius Black, isn't it?"
"What makes you think it's him?" asked Ron, as his blood turned cold.
"There were a couple of things. First, you only called him by his first name—I wasn't sure what that meant, until I saw Granger give you a couple of strange looks when Black came up, like she was trying to tell you to be quiet. And then you nearly said his name."
Ron's mind was racing. He had been rather obvious, hadn't he? "If it is Black, what would you do about it."
Daphne pursed her lips. "There's clearly something else going on, otherwise you wouldn't trust him. He was in Azkaban for a reason, killing those muggles and that other wizard—whose name I don't recall."
"Wormtail—Pettigrew I mean—framed him, faked his death, and hid as my pet rat for twelve years," said Ron quietly. "He saw him in the paper when I went to Egypt, and broke out to kill him."
He could see Daphne's mind working. "Oh. Well. I wasn't expecting that as an answer. Goodness."
She thought a moment longer. "Don't worry, I won't say anything about it to anyone. But if that's true…"
They danced in silence for a while, until Ron stepped on her foot. "Oh, I'm sorry," said Ron immediately as Daphne winced in pain.
"It's fine. Let's just go sit back down."
He led her back to the table for the third time, and asked if she wanted another drink.
"Please." She was starting to look a little tired. Ron wondered what time it was, as he could see that the crowd was dancing getting smaller. Returning with the drinks, Ron sat next to Daphne, thinking.
Before tonight, he wouldn't have been seen with a Slytherin, but once he'd asked Daphne out, he couldn't back down. And it wouldn't have been fair to ruin her night based on that. So he'd set aside his initial thoughts, and now he was having a good time. If only he hadn't said anything about Sirius.
"Ron?" He looked up. "Since I figured out about…one of your secrets, it's only fair I share one of mine."
"Alright," said Ron slowly.
"It's a room I go to sometimes to relax—I don't know if anyone else knows about it." Daphne took a swig from her drink. "Finish your drink and I'll show you."
Ron downed his glass in the next moment, and almost gagged as it burned down his throat. Daphne giggled and said, "You didn't have to finish it that fast."
Ron cleared his throat, and said, "Probably shouldn't've." He felt a burp coming, and suppressed it, knowing it wouldn't impress her. Daphne finished the last swallow of her drink, as as he took her arm, he asked, "Where to?"
"Second floor and to the right," she instructed, and they left the Great Hall and went up the Grand Staircase. As they walked down the hall, Ron noticed that Daphne was leaning more against him.
"Are you alright?" Ron asked, as she directed them down another hallway. He'd been down here just a couple of times to cut between Divination and Transfiguration, but otherwise the hallway was empty, aside from a large tapestry that hung on the one wall, depicting a golden unicorn foal standing next to a waterfall and a rose bush.
"I'm fine," said Daphne. "I feel…a little dizzy. I'll be fine."
She stopped in front of the tapestry, and stroked the unicorn's mane. Then the wall opened inward, revealing a small room with a small fountain, an embroidered bench, and a suit of armor standing guard in the corner. The fountain featured a nymph lifting a bowl of water, which ran down into a pool with live water lilies. The embroider on the bench featured Jupiter and a number of its moons, and the armor had a spear and shield in each hand.
Daphne sat on the bench, watching the fountain. "I come here when I need some peace and quiet."
Ron sat next to her, and she rested her head against his shoulder. "It's nice," said Ron, trying to relax. He hadn't ever been in a room with a girl alone before. Not really—Hermione didn't count.
"I had a really good time tonight," said Daphne. "You're not what I expected."
"What did you expect?" Ron asked before he could stop himself.
"I thought you'd be lazy, rude, and selfish," she said quietly. "But you've—hic—oh no—hic—" She cleared her throat, and breathed out slowly. "But you've been polite and listened to me, and—hic—when you told me all you been through with Potter and Granger, I realized that—hic—I didn't know who you could be."
As Ron listened to Daphne talk, he could feel a pit forming in his stomach. "And who could I be?"
"Brave, loyal, willing to fight for your—hic—friends, and not afraid to do what's right. I didn't really know what that meant, before."
"And that's me?" Ron felt the pit in his stomach tighten.
"Maybe. From what you've told me, yes." Daphne took a deep breath, and looked at him; she hiccuped again. "Maybe it's stupid to say that after just one date."
"Thanks for saying it." Ron rested his hand on Daphne's, and he couldn't stop the tingling in his fingers. "I know I'm not like my brothers, or Harry, or—"
"They wouldn't have given me a date like this one," said Daphne, suddenly confident and smiling. "I don't—hic—stupid hiccups." And she turned away.
"You should smile more," said Ron. "It suits you."
She met his eyes and smiled again. "Like this?"
Ron nodded. His heart was racing. The pit in his stomach clenched. Her face was so close. Her breath tickled.
Then she kissed him.
A/N: This story is being written as part of NaNoWriMo, and I'll be posting progress when I feel like it. I don't have an upload schedule planned, but at the pace I'm writing, there should be one every week or so.
