AN---I really hate doing these, but I have to clear up a few facts. First of all, these are not related to the real events depicted in the books. If I say they're in third year, the story most likely will NOT have to do with Sirius Black. This is in their fourth year, but the Triwizard Tournament is NOT taking place.
A "ship" is a popular pairing between two people. Though this is named for the song "I Saw Three Ships", you will notice there are far more than three couples in this little escapade…I'm sure you'll be able to catch the underlyings of MY favorite pairings, but what sort of cliché would it be without the author's own view?
Lastly – the dialogue in this will be a little more stilted, because some of the comments will be ridiculous and used only to illustrate the ridiculousness of some of the pairings.
Now that we've got all that straightened up, read on.
STORY TWO
I Saw Three Ships
Chapter 1
He awoke the next morning to find himself back in his bed in his dormitory. Maybe he should talk to Professor Dumbledore about the dreams he'd had, he thought as he dressed and hurried downstairs. The Common Room was nearly deserted. A handful of students worked feverishly on incomplete homework for that day in one corner of the room, and Ron and Hermione waited for him in front of the fire, but few others had not gone down to breakfast.
"Harry!" Hermione said, jumping up when she saw him.
"Great, I'm starved," said Ron. Harry followed them out through the portrait hole.
"We thought you'd never wake up," said Hermione, glancing at Harry out of the corner of her eye.
"Just tired," Harry said. "I had a weird dream, though."
"Oh," Ron said as they turned the corner into the Great Hall. "Hey, what's up?"
The Hall was buzzing excitedly. Breakfast had been forgotten as most of the students crowded around a paper that had been posted near the door, talking in loud, enthusiastic voices.
"What – does – it – say?" Harry shouted above the melee raging around them. Ron and Hermione shrugged.
"Harry! Hiya, Harry!" Harry groaned as Colin Creevey, an over-enthusiastic third year, pushed his way toward them through the crowd. "Harry, Harry, are you going to the ball?"
Harry stared. "What?" he said in complete bafflement.
"The notice!" Colin shouted, beaming. "There's going to be a Valentine's ball for students fourth year and up! That means you, Harry! Isn't it cool?"
He heard Ron groan softly behind him. "Sure, Colin," he said halfheartedly.
"Who're you gonna take, Harry?" Colin pressed.
"I don't know, Colin, I'm going to go eat breakfast," Harry said. He turned to find that Ron and Hermione had already sat down at the Gryffindor table and were helping themselves to food from the platters and bowls in front of them.
Harry slid in next to them. "A Valentine's Ball?" he asked in unmasked horror as he buttered a slice of toast.
"Yeah, I know," said Ron feelingly.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. "It will be fun."
Harry choked. "Right," he said sarcastically. "Loads of fun."
"Well, maybe if you hadn't already decided to hate it –,"
"I know, I know," Harry said in exasperation. "But I don't like the idea of standing around for three hours and feeling stupid and watching everyone else dancing."
Ron nodded his agreement, but Hermione didn't seem to notice as she spooned oatmeal into her bowl. "Come on, you two, knock it off," she said cheerfully.
Harry and Ron exchanged meaningful glances.
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When he learned that all students in the fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh years were expected to attend the ball, Harry was even less pleased. He'd made up his mind that he would spend a quiet evening in the Common Room with Ron and the students too young to go to the ball.
"Furthermore," McGonagall added, "Students are encouraged to bring partners so that nobody is forgotten." She glared at Harry and Ron, who were looking stricken.
"We're doomed," Ron whispered to Harry when McGonagall had left the Common Room. Harry nodded glumly.
"When is this dance?" Harry asked.
Ron shrugged.
"A month and a half," Hermione said brightly from behind them. Harry and Ron turned, startled.
"You're looking forward to this, Hermione?" Ron asked, incredulously.
Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said. Then, grinning still more broadly, she added, "I've already been asked to it."
Harry's mouth fell open, and he saw Ron's behaving the same way.
"By who?" Harry asked.
"You?" Ron said, standing up. "Who asked you?" His ears were very red.
Hermione glared at him. "Not you!"
"That's obvious!" Ron said, nearly shouting now. "But maybe if you'd waited a day or two more, I would have!"
Hermione looked very taken aback. "You what?" she said, caught between irritation and confusion.
Ron reddened to the roots of his fiery hair. "Well . . . I mean . . ." he stopped, suddenly aware that most of the students in the Common Room were watching.
"Maybe if you'd collected yourself sooner, I'd have accepted!" Hermione snapped, collected and cool again. "But you just had to wait and see if something better came along!"
"Hermione, it's only been five days," Harry said. "I mean, be reasonable."
Hermione ignored him. "Not all girls are supermodels!"
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Ron shouted. "And who asked you, anyway?"
"I'm not going to tell you!" Hermione replied bitingly, and ran up the stairs to her dormitory.
"Nice going, Ron," said Harry. Ron whirled on him, glaring.
"I don't want to hear anything from you! Not anything!"
Harry shrugged. "Sorry," he said. "So who are you going to ask?"
"Not Hermione!"
"I know that," Harry said. "Cheer up," he added bracingly. "You would never've asked her, anyway."
Ron sank into the chair across from Harry, still angry. "But she could've had the decency to wait a while! And who's she going with, anyway?"
"Does it really matter?" Harry said. "Besides, we need to think of someone to ask, if we're going to go. I don't feel like being the only one without a date . . ."
Ron eyed a cluster of Gryffindor girls of various ages across the Common Room. "I don't know," he said flatly. "You?"
Harry followed Ron's gaze. "Parvati?"
Ron snorted. "And have her breathing down your neck with dire predictions the whole time, Harry?"
"No, really," Harry said, standing. "I've developed a sudden, passionate love for Parvati. Let me go ask her."
Ron watched, goggle-eyed, as Harry walked across the Common Room to the cluster of girls and tapped Parvati on the shoulder, blushing furiously. "Parvati," he asked, suddenly conscious of eight extra pairs of eyes on him, "Would you go to the Valentine's Ball with me?"
Parvati giggled and looked at her group of friends before turning back to Harry. "Sorry," she said, giggling uncontrollably. "No."
Harry stomped back to where Ron sat watching. "'Spose you thought that was funny," he said savagely.
Ron shook his head morosely and looked in the direction of the staircase to the girl's dormitory. "Now you know how it feels."
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Ginny Weasley desperately wanted to go to the Valentine's Ball, but had little hope of finding a fourth-year student willing to ask her. She wished Harry would, but knew her older brother's friend was far too girl-shy to do so. She had pled with Ron to drop a hint, but Ron had refused – it was Harry's business who he asked or didn't ask. Ron had smiled when he said this, and added that Harry might end up alone at the ball, anyway.
She had half-hoped that one of the other Gryffindor fourth-years would take pity on her – she so wanted to go – but not a week after the announcement Seamus and Lavender agreed to go together, and she didn't want to go with Dean or Neville anyway. She's almost asked Fred or George if they would take her, but decided against it.
Ginny had given up hope, then, and reconciled herself to a normal night in the Common Room with her friends. Which was why, later that evening, she was stunned to find a note penned in red ink slipped into her Transfiguration textbook.
XXOXXOXXOXX
Ginny, I really wish you'd go to the
ball with me, (it read) Long have I
admired you, though you may not
have realized it. Please meet me
atop the Astronomy Tower at eleven
tonight.
Yours ever,
A Secret Admirer
XXOXXOXXOXX
Completely baffled, she sank into an armchair near the fire. Who on earth could it be? She stared at the fire, unaware that Jennike Agrilus, a fellow third-year girl, had come up behind her.
"Ooh! A Secret Admirer, Ginny? How exciting!" Jennike draped herself across the arm of Ginny's chair. "Who could it be?"
Ginny sighed irritably. "I don't know, Jennike," she said. "If I knew, would it be a Secret Admirer?"
Jennike giggled. "Well, you know . . . so are you going to go up to the Astronomy Tower?"
"I don't know," Ginny repeated, doubtfully. "Should I?"
Jennike nodded adamantly. "Of course. How else would you get to the ball?"
"Are you going?" Ginny asked pointedly.
Jennike giggled again. "Of course," she said. "With Fabricio."
"Who?"
"He's in Hufflepuff, and he's terrific," Jennike gushed.
Ginny crumpled the paper up and threw it in the fire. Jennike gasped. "What'd you do that for?"
"Well, I don't need it anymore, do I?" Ginny said witheringly. "I don't think I'll forget it."
"Are you going to go?" Jennike persisted.
"Yes," said Ginny. "I might as well see who it is."
