Disclaimer: Chapter 1

A/N: I noticed that last chapter was riddled (no pun intended) with spelling mistakes.; the little ones that really bother me because they're spelled right but used in the wrong context (i.e. 'one' instead of 'on'). I apologize for them and all others in the future. You really must excuse my computer because it hates me.

Chapter 3

            Tom sat next to Harriet in History of Magic the next morning but they both said very little to each other. Tom took very few notes. He kept glancing, anxiously, at Harriet. It was funny but she seemed to be taking very few notes herself. He was worried. Did she expect him to ask her to the Yule Ball? Of course, he had every intention to but he wasn't sure when. It was embarrassing.

            Class ended and Harriet got up quickly but Tom decided to stop her.

            "Harriet?"

            She stopped abruptly and turned around. She looked a bit green.

            "Can I talk to you later?"

            "Of course." She smiled at him.

            Tom just became more troubled. She was walking rather fast away from Professor Binns's room. Had someone already asked her? Tom's day was filled with doubts and dreams of  rejection. He was so discouraged that he almost went back to the Slytherin Common Room.

            Richard saw him heading towards the Common Room and stopped him. "Aren't you going to ask her to the ball?"

            "Well…maybe I'll wait until tomorrow."

            "You're not asking me to the ball so you'd better just ask her now," Richard said rather bitterly.

            "Don't you have a date?"

            "Well, not at the moment, no. Does she have any friends?"

            "Only some mudblood."

            "Oh…that's too bad."

            Tom watched his friend's slight disappointment. He wasn't going to let Richard find a date before him. That would be pitiful. He set off, away from Richard, toward the Quidditch pitch.

Harriet were in their regular places, Harriet reading a book and Daisy asking her the third use of Moonleaf for her Potions essay.  Harriet was in the middle of explaining that it was used to feed various, obscure dragons when Tom came over, talking to himself silently.

"Harriet, can I talk to you?" There was a line of worry between his eyebrows.

"Certainly."

"In private?"

"Sure. Er…I'll finish with the Moonleaf later, okay, Daisy?" She said and stood up. Tom walked away from Daisy with Harriet at his heals. He stopped quickly when they were out of earshot.

"Er…You're…You're not going to the Yule Ball with anyone yet, are you?" Tom asked very quickly.

"No."

"Good," Tom sighed.

Harriet gave a slight smile. "I don't think that many people want to go with me. It's only been a day since Dumbledore announced it."

"Well…I want to go with you. Would you like to go with me?" Tom was getting very flustered. This wasn't how he'd expected to ask her to the ball. The situation was slipping out of his grasp and he didn't like that.

Harriet was surprised. Well…she wasn't surprised because she knew that he would ask her but she didn't expect it to be like this. She'd seen it more romantically and he wouldn't look like he had put off his Moonleaf paper and was asking if he could copy hers. "I would love to go with you."

"Good." He caught his breath a little bit. "Well…then I'll meet you in front of the Great Hall before the dance?"

Harriet nodded.

"Then…I'll see you in class?"

"Sure," Harriet said and watched Tom give half a smile. He waved and walked off towards the castle.

He was so stupid. She hated him. She thought he asked too soon. He was too anxious. Tom felt dizzy all the way back to the Common Room where Richard was looking down at his books.

"What'd she say? 'She tell you that you're ugly and should spend more time with your friends?" He asked nonchalantly.

"She said she'd go with me."

Richard made an unreadable face. "Never would've guessed. She's mad over you, you know. Look's all swoony whenever you have class together. Makes me sick. Don't understand why any girl would want to spend more than fifteen seconds with you."

"You want to spend more than fifteen seconds with me."

"One, I'm not a girl. Two, it seems like I'll never know what a minute with you is liked because you're always rushing off to follow her."

"She has a name, you know," Tom informed.

Richard sighed in an aggravated fashion. "I drive in more of a point when I don't call her by name." He paused. "Why do you like her anyway? I mean, she hangs around with a mudblood."

            "For one thing, she's very attractive."

            "Yes, that's why you like her."

            "No, I meant her looks. Like, her hair and her eyes. I think they're very attractive."

            "You think she's beautiful."

            Tom ignored this. "And she's very intelligent."

            "I'm intelligent!" Richard protested.

            "We're not talking about you, we're talking about Harriet." Richard harrumphed and crossed his arms but let Tom continue. "And…I don't know…"

            "You don't know? You just woke up one day and said 'Hullo! Why don't I go with a gorgeous girl who knows how to read!?' and fell in love with her?!"

            "I'm not in love with anyone."

            "Well, you sure act it!" Richard threw his quill onto the paper he was writing, splattering ink onto his History of Magic book.

            "Richard, I think you're jealous."

            "You're damn right I am! You're spending more time thinking about her than talking to me! And you've been like this since October! What's wrong with you!?" Tom was very happy that there weren't more than three first years in the Common Room with them; this would be very embarrassing otherwise.

            "That's so sweet! No one's asked me yet! I bet no one will!"

            "Daisy, it's only been a day! What do you expect?!"

            "But Tom asked you!" Daisy was brushing her hair in their dorm.

            "Yes, we've been over that! You've said it a thousand times and you know as well as I that someone's going to ask you to the ball!"

            Daisy threw her brush down and pouted. "But what if no one does?"

            Harriet rolled her eyes. "Please, Daisy. Someone will probably ask you at Hogsmede."

            "Oh, goodness! That's this weekend isn't it!?"

            "See!"

            "What will I wear!?"

            "Wear what you always wear."

            "But I have to look attractive!"

            "You look attractive!"

            Daisy studied herself in the mirror she held. "I hope that Hufflepuff bloke asks me."

            "Which one?"

            "The one on the Quidditch team that I've always fancied."

            "Timothy Ashburt?"

            "Yeah. He's got really blue eyes!"

            "But he's daft!" Harriet remembered how badly he did on his OWLs two years before. Lowest out of all the fifth years. Of course, a clot with blue eyes meant nothing to Daisy as long as he had blue eyes. That baffled Harriet to no end. How could any girl like someone who couldn't add?

A/N: I know, I know. If you read one more fic with a Yule Ball you'll throw up, eh? Well, here's your bucket. (Don't worry, the next chapter isn't about the ball)