A/N: Am such a wank. Guess what I forgot? Ahem…

Diclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Characters and settings associated with the Harry Potter world featuring in this, and all future and preceding chapters, belong to J. K. Rowling etc.

However the plot is all mine, and still running nicely. Read on … rather a short chap ahead, but it's more a transition than anything else, so bear with me … ~thank you, Osaka!~ Shez

~

The following afternoon, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were sitting under a tree by the lake, attempting to do some work. Ginny had urged them out, claiming that it was too lovely a day to sit inside, and she was right – the air had that beautiful balance of warm and cool that one can find midway through autumn, on good days, when the wind isn't too blustery and the sun is only half out.

Ginny was reading over Harry's plans for the next quidditch game, scheduled for just after Hallowe'en. Every now and again she would murmur and point at a diagram, and Harry would write something beside it. They were very absorbed.

Hermione was absorbed too, in writing a list. She seemed to be scribbling an endless parade of things-to-do and people-to-see this week, and was already distracted with ball preparations. Ron pretended to read, and watched her over the top of his book. He wondered if the twins' suggestions would work with Hermione. Sometimes he was convinced she was just like other girls, with the same mentality, the same desires – and other times, he told himself that he was being ridiculous, that Hermione was a different breed altogether.

He sighed and turned a page, dragging his eyes away from her face. He supposed he wouldn't know until he tried.

They hadn't really been alone since he'd asked her – since before he'd asked her, at the quidditch match – and Ron was sort of glad. He had no idea what he'd say if it was just the two of them (and was understandably nervous about spending an evening with her). He knew he had to get over it as soon as possible.

He just didn't know how.

He didn't know a lot of things at the moment.

There was a cough from somewhere nearby and they all (with the exception of Hermione) looked up. Dean Thomas was standing there, looking extremely anxious and flustered, eyes fixed on Ginny.

"What?" Ron said challengingly, and Ginny gave him a look.

"Hi Dean," she said.

"Hi. Er – can I speak to you, please?"

"Now?"

Dean shuffled his feet. "Yeah. If you're not too busy."

"OK." She stood and walked over to him, and they moved a short distance from the rest of the group. Harry was frowning at his papers, but his head was cocked in the direction of Ginny and Dean.

"Hey," Ron said, poking Harry in the knee, and he jumped.

"What?"

"You asked her yet?"

"What?"

"Have you asked Ginny yet?"

"Ah – no," he mumbled, flushing red.

"Why the hell not?" Ron exclaimed. "That's exactly what Dean's doing now!"

"I – I don't know," he said, a bit helplessly. "I just – I guess I forgot."

"Forgot my arse. You were scared. Hermione, are you hearing this?"

"Mm-hm," she said, quill scratching away. Ron suspected that she hadn't caught a word, and when it became clear that Harry wasn't going to run up to Ginny and snatch her away from Dean, he took matters into his own hands.

"Oi! Thomas!" he shouted, and whistled at him.

Dean and Ginny stopped talking.

"Don't whistle," Hermione said absently, but Ron ignored her as the couple approached.

"What's up, Ron?" Dean asked nervously.

"Yes, Ron," Ginny repeated tensely. "What's up?"

How to go about this delicately?
He opened his mouth to be polite, and then closed it again.

No. Screw delicate. Dean was a dick to Ginny last year, didn't deserve her for a second, and no way was he going to ruin Ron's plans of safety-in-numbers for the ball.

"You can't go with Gin to the ball, Dean, if that's what you're here for," he said bluntly.
Dean looked taken aback, and Ginny widened her eyes at him.

"Er – why not?" Dean asked.

"She's going with someone else." He glanced at Ginny significantly. "Remember?"

"Ron …"

"Oh, OK," Dean said hurriedly, "that's fine then. Sorry. You know, don't worry about it. Sorry. Bye, Gin."

"Bye," she said faintly, and watched him walk away before exploding at Ron.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That! That! Scaring off my ball date!"

"You don't want to go with him."

She put her hands on her hips. Harry was sitting up, and even Hermione was paying attention now. "Oh, really? Why not?"

"Because. He was awful to you, wasn't he?"

"Well – yeah, a bit," she admitted, and then fired up again. "But I have to take someone, don't I? And it's none of your business, Ron. You can't just go around lying to any boy who asks me just because you think …"

"I wasn't lying," he interrupted.

"Right, because I already have a date," she said sarcastically, and he nodded. She dropped her hands from her waist in surprise. "What?"

"You're going with Harry," Ron said.

Ginny's gaze shifted from her brother to Harry, who was staring at Ron as though he'd just sprouted wings. Then Harry's eyes moved too, and met Ginny's. They looked at each other for a long, taut moment.

"No I'm not," Ginny said eventually.

"'Course you are," said Ron. "Isn't she, Harry? We're going as a foursome."

Harry said nothing, and Ginny went on looking at him.

"I'm not," she snapped, "because he hasn't even asked me. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go and find Dean Thomas and tell him you made a mistake."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed off in the direction of the castle.

"Ron," Hermione said as she left, "that was the silliest thing you've done all year."

"What?" he objected.

"You can't just tell her what to do!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's not fair! And it's sexist! And –"

Here she trailed off, because Harry was standing up purposefully and moving at a fast jog after Ginny. Ron and Hermione sat in silence as they watched him catch up with her on the slope – her shake him off – his almost-audible protests – Ginny with her eyes on her feet as he spoke earnestly –

Ron looked away. It seemed rather a private thing, and for some reason he didn't want to intrude. His eyes found Hermione's instead, and she was starting to smile.

"Well," she said softly, "that's good."

"What? Harry and Ginny?"

"Yes," she said, rolling her parchment up and sticking her quill in the middle. "Harry and Ginny. It's good. And it's about time."

"We'll have a nice night," Ron said, suddenly aware of the fact that it was just the two of them, and feeling awkward. "At the ball, I mean. Us four."

"It'll be good," she said.
A too-long silence followed.

"So do you have robes yet?" he asked eventually.

"Oh – sort of."

"Right. Should I – I don't know, do we need to co-ordinate?"

She smiled a little wider and fiddled with her paper. "I'll get you something to match. What about your robes?"

"I've got new ones, after fourth year. Not the maroon and lace thing. Which is good, I think. I wouldn't want to embarrass you." He said this last lowly, and she replied in equally quiet tones.

"It doesn't matter what you wear. You wouldn't embarrass me. Don't say things like that."

He risked a proper glance at her, but her eyes were on her knees.

"Er – alright," he agreed, a bit hoarsely. "OK."

"I'm going to up to the library," she said suddenly, and stood. "See you at dinner."

"Bye."

She walked briskly away. Ron watched her go, and her words rang on in his ears.

~

It felt like they'd travelled back in time three years, to the weeks before the Yule Ball. Hogwarts was ablaze with the drama of it. It was all you heard in the corridors, all that was discussed in the common rooms, and everywhere you turned it seemed that there was some sick-looking bloke approaching a clutch of giggling girls.

Ron felt sorry for the poor bastards, managing to forget that in fourth year he'd been one of them. He felt sorry for them – and he couldn't really believe that he already had a partner, that he'd passed through that particular ordeal, and without a scratch.

At dinner that night, he had to bypass several couples (many boys had hit upon the idea of cornering girls as they came in to eat, when they might be found alone) to get to the Gryffindor table. He sat heavily beside Harry, who was loading his plate.

"Whew," he said. "It's a jungle out there."

Harry nodded and held a serving dish out to him. "Carrots?"

"Thanks."

Ron scooped them out, and when it became clear that Harry wasn't going to bring the subject up, he nudged him.

"So? Did you do it?"

"Do what?" Harry asked innocently, taking a mouthful of shepherd's pie.

"Ask Gin."

"What, to the ball?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yes, to the ball."

"Right." Harry shrugged, clearly trying to contain a pleased expression. "Yeah."

"She say yes?"

"Yeah. After I apologised for you being a bloody idiot."

"Hey, if I hadn't been a bloody idiot, you wouldn't have had a partner."

"Who says?" Harry began to protest, but then Ginny sat beside him, and he stopped.

"Hello," she said, rather shyly, and Harry smiled at her.

"Hello," he replied.

It was strange. Ron hadn't seen Ginny be shy for years. And he hadn't ever seen that look on Harry's face before.

"Do you want pie?" Harry asked.

She nodded, and he reached for the dish to serve her, when Hermione threw herself down next to Ron, grabbing at the nearest platter and piling food onto her plate.

"'Mione?" he said, a bit startled. "You alright?"

"Can't talk," she responded. "Eating."

"Er – OK."
She finished her meal in approximately two minutes, and then stood again.

"Wait, where are you going?" Ron asked, and found himself standing with her.

"I've got too much to do," she said, rather desperately, pushing her hair back. "I have to go and give these lists to Professor McGonagall, and then I have to speak to Professor Flitwick about the lights, and collect my potion from Professor Snape, and then there's patrols, and I've got to go."

She made to leave, and he grabbed her arm.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said. "Hang on. What can I do?"

"What can you do?" She didn't seem to understand him.

"Yeah. Give me a job, I'll go do it." His eyes brightened. "I'll do patrols for you. Maybe I can lose Malfoy somewhere."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you really want to help?"

"Of course," he said seriously. "I can't let you run around like this, can I?"

Her face softened a little. "Um – alright. Well, take these to McGonagall." She put several rolls of paper into his arms. "And then if you could pick up my potion from the classroom …"

He held up his free hand. "Consider it done. Sit. Eat dessert."

"Ron – thank you."

"Go on, sit down."

She sat.

"Are you sure –" she began, but he was already walking away, waving goodbye. She smiled at him all the way to the door, and then turned back to her plate.

That smile warmed him for the rest of the evening.

~

Again, sorry about shortness. Much fluff and ball stuff to come! Hurrah! ~S.