Disclaimer: I do not own HP.  I repeat, I do NOT own HP.  But, of course, you lot know this, right?  If not, whack yourself repeatedly in the head with a blunt object until you do.

Chapter 8 – Never That Good To Me

All was normal in Hogwarts for the next few months.  Ethan and Harry had both been on their toes incase another letter came from Voldemort but none had, not even on Halloween.  Hence the reason both had begun to relax when December came along.

Unfortunately they didn't have long to relax.

Two days into the month of December, Dumbledore rose during dinner that night and made an announcement.

"Due to popular interest, this year we shall have a repeat of last year's Yule Ball.  Dress robes are required and it is for fourth years and above.  Lower years may only attend if they are accompanied by a student in a higher year.  I hope to see many staying over the holidays to attend."

"Not again!" came Ron's moan as the old wizard sat down.  The ginger haired boy's head made a loud thunk as it smashed against the table.

"Ouch," remarked Ethan, wincing.  "I know that hurt."

Ginny snorted and scoffed, "Please.  Ron's got a hard head."

"You're telling me."  Ethan turned to Harry and asked, "What's all his fuss about?"

Harry sighed heavily before replying.

"Last year it took us ages to find dates.  I, of course, had to have one because I was one of the Triwizard Champions."

"Who'd you ask?"

"The Patil twins."

"You asked both of them?" gasped Ethan, playing the part of good little ignorant boy.  And, of course, he had no knowledge of whom Harry had gone to the Ball with the year before.  He himself had been having that lovely little chat with Karkaroff whilst catching snogging students in the garden.

Harry rolled his eyes and replied, "Please.  I'm not some womanizer.  No, Ron asked Padme and I asked Parvati.  Or maybe that was the other way around…"

"Who are you going to ask this year, Harry?" asked Hermione.

Harry shrugged and replied, "I'll have to think about it."

"What about Cho?" asked Ginny softly.

A sad expression flashed across the dark-haired boy's face at that and he looked over towards the Ravenclaw table for a moment.  When he turned back, he locked his eyes on the top of the table and whispered, "No.  No, I don't think so."

"Oh," said Ginny, looking at him sympathetically.  "Sorry."

"S'alright, Ginny."

There was silence between the four of them for a moment before Hermione turned towards Ethan and asked the same question.  Ethan blinked and couldn't think of an answer.  As a teacher, he had always patrolled the grounds during these sort of things looking for necking teenagers.  Even as a student he had only attended one Ball and that was in the last year he'd been with Lily before James had stolen her away.

"Er…I don't really know.  Is it a guys-ask-girls thing?"

"What else could it be?" asked Ginny with a vague frown.

"Well, it could be the girl ask the guys.  At my old school, we had one of those last year."

As though his comment had been heard all the way up at the Head Table, Dumbledore stood again and called for attention.

"May I also mention," he said with a smile, "that this Ball shall be a Backwards Yule Ball.  Meaning the young ladies get to ask the young gentlemen."

"Buggering sod," muttered Ethan under his breath as the old wizard sat back down.

Hermione blinked and said, "That was almost like he heard you, Ethan."

"Yeah," said Ethan with an undertone of a growl in his voice, his dark eyes glaring daggers at the grinning old wizard.  "It was, wasn't it?"  Conniving old man…

"Oh no," moaned Harry, letting his head fall against the top of the table, barely missing his plate.

"What?" asked Ethan, turning away from Dumbledore.

Harry looked up and replied, "Take a look around and see how many girl's are looking this way."

Ethan did.  Over half the girl's in the Hall were peering at Harry over the shoulders of others.  He was surprised to see a few of the Slytherin girl's doing the same.

"Bad luck, that."

Harry's only response was a snort.

* * * *

"No!  No, I'm not…  No!  Let go of my cloak…  No, you sodding…"

"Need some help, dear?" asked the Fat Lady as Harry came running down the corridor, a gaggle of girls behind him.  One was waving his cloak triumphantly and another had a piece of his bag.

"Yes," panted Harry, scrabbling at a quill that was trying to fall out of the new hole in his bag.

"I'll only do this once," said the Fat Lady, opening without the password.

"You're a saint!" cried Harry, dashing inside before the tailing girls could overrun him.  He cursed when he heard someone cry out the password and rushed across the common room as the portrait opened.  The girls raced after him but were halted when they ran into an invisible barrier at the bottom of the boy's staircase.  Harry pumped his fist in the air then turned and rushed up to his dorm, the girls screaming after her.

"Do I hear screaming fan girls?" quipped Ethan from his bed as Harry entered the fifth year dorm.

"Shut up," growled Harry as he slammed the door shut behind him.  He threw his bag down violently, grabbed his unruly hair in both hands, and screamed, "I'm tired of them bloody chasing me!"

"Who's asked?" asked Ethan, turning a page in his book idly.

"I think nearly every girl in the school with the exception of most of the Slytherins, Cho, Hermione, and Ginny.  Oh and the Patil twins."

"Well, you didn't expect them to, did you?"

"The Slytherins?" said Harry, confused.

Ethan shook his head and sighed, "The Patil's."

"Not really.  Ron and I sort of ignored them last year."

"Exactly."

"Hold on a second."  Harry frowned at the other boy.  "How'd you find that out?"

"Hermione."

"I see.  And have you got a date yet, Mr. Smooth?"

Ethan smirked and replied, "In fact, I have been asked many times.  It seems the older girls like dyed hair."  He flicked a lock of green hair imperiously.  Imagine if the student population knew that the sneering Potion's Master charmed his hair black once every week.  Or that he loved Muggle rock music and knew how to play guitar.

"Just like they like famous ickle me."

"They just want your money."

Harry snorted and threw himself onto his bed on his stomach.

"I bet.  Isn't that a bugger?"

"Proves how shallow some people are."

"Actually I think it's the famous bit."

"Most likely.  These are young girls.  One must remember this."

"True."  Harry rolled over onto his back and pondered, "Would the wards holding them out of the boy's dorm ever fail?"

"If they do I have only one suggestion."

"What?"

"Grab your broomstick, jump out the window, and fly like a bat out of Hell."

"Really fast and suicidal?" asked Harry.

"No," said Ethan.  "Really fast and wanting to get as far away from Hell as possible."

"Girls are Hell?"

"Those lot downstairs are."

"Who's the gaggle of girl's after?" asked Neville as he entered the dorm.  "They tried to mob me."

"I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count," quipped Ethan.  Harry promptly threw his pillow at the other boy's head.

"Shut up, Ethan."

"They're all after you, Harry?" said Neville curiously.

"Who else?" moaned Harry, flopping back onto his bed.  "I hate my life."

"Don't say that," cautioned Ethan, throwing Harry's pillow back.  "It might get worse."

"How can it possibly get worse?"

"You have three choices: A) the wards could fail and those girls would charge in and maul you; B) the world happens to end in the next few minutes; or C) Voldemort just so happens to waltz into the room, having gotten past all of the outside wards, Dumbledore, and the professors and kills everyone in the school in front of you before killing you himself then going off to slowly destroy the world."

Neville stared blankly at Ethan whilst Harry propped himself up on his elbows and said, "You have a strange, strange mind."

"Why thank you," quipped Ethan just as the door opened and Dean appeared.

"Who're the girls after?"

Harry moaned and fell back onto his bed, causing Dean to wince.

"I thought so.  McGonagall's trying to get them out right now."

"Why bother?" groaned Harry.  "I'll just be mauled by them again."

"Think positive, Harry.  Pos-it-ive."

Harry threw his pillow at Ethan again as Seamus entered the room, Ron trailing behind him.

"Who are the…" began Seamus but was interrupted by Harry.

"The girls are after ME, alright!" screamed the dark-haired boy before pulling the curtains about his bed closed.  The next sounds coming from behind them sounded like he was screaming obscenities into his blankets.

"I was going to say 'Who are the buggers who stole my Charms paper?' but okay," said Seamus nervously.

Ethan chuckled and said, "He's been chased around by girl's all day."

"Wish I had that luck," muttered Ron.

"Bet not," quipped Ethan, flipping a page in his book.  He threw Harry's pillow behind the curtains and immediately had it soar back at his head.  "Fine," he muttered, stuffing the pillow behind his back, "I'll just keep it then."

"Have you got a date, Snape?" sneered Ron.  Since the incident in the third floor corridor he'd become vaguely more civil to Ethan.  But only vaguely.  Oddly he was the only person in Gryffindor Tower who still had something against the Potion Master's son.

"Not as of yet," replied Ethan.

"Have you been asked?" asked Seamus as he crossed over to his bed.

"Of course.  Girl's love dyed hair."

Ron snorted whilst Dean grinned as Seamus muttered, "Maybe I should try that."

"Or you could take some of the girl's off Harry's hands," said Neville with a chuckle.

"Please!" came the cry from behind the closed curtains.

The five other boys laughed and Ethan threw Harry's pillow back to him, grinning widely when it didn't soar back out at him.

* * * *

"Ethan?"

"Mmm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Fire away."

"Can we go somewhere else?"

"Is this a question that requires quiet space and no one possibly eavesdropping in on it?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'd say get Harry but as this is a no eavesdropping question…how about the library?"

"Eavesdroppers."

"South Tower?"

"Closed off."

"Astronomy Tower?"

"Ha!"

"I'll take that as a no…  Er, the broom closest that is continually moving about the school?"

"There's a broom closet that moves about the school?"

"Well, I think it's actually where Filch stores all of his manacles…"

"Ewww."

"That's what I thought when I found it."

"How about somewhere else?"

"How about I just cast an Anti-Eavesdropping Spell and we talk here?"

"That'll work."

"I'm surprised you didn't think of that."

"I'm not thinking clearly today.

"Obviously.  Anyway, there we go.  So, what's the question?"

"First, I want to ask you another question."

"Shoot."

"Has anyone asked you to the Ball?"

"I can't count them on both hands, if that's what you mean."

"Have you said 'yes'?"

"Not as of yet.  Why do you ask?"

"Well…willyougototheBallwithme?"

Ethan blinked several times and stared at the girl sitting across from him.

"You must be joking."

"No."

"Why me?  Why not Harry?  Or – or, cripes, Ron?"

"Harry's only my friend.  And Ron – Ron and I get in too many arguments for anything like that to really work out."

"Hey, some of the best relationships are built off of arguments."

"Yes or no, Ethan?"

"Ah, a quick answer she wishes, yes."

"Ethan…"

"Okay, okay.  Don't get your knickers in a bunch.  I'm thinking."

"How long do you need?"

"To think?"

"No, to scour the universe for a UFO.  Yes, to think."

"Ooo, she is sarcastic.  I like that."

"If you're not going to be serious…"

"Yes."

"Pardon?"

"Must I spell it out?  Why – Eee – Ess.  Yah – ess."

"I heard you!"

"And hence the reason you said 'Pardon?'"

"You are very annoying."

"Why thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Do you mind if I take it as one?  Criticism doesn't hurt me."

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"Well then – you are a slimy, conniving, greasy, short, ugly, horrible little bastard."

Ethan arched an eyebrow.

"That was supposed to hurt?"

"Yes."

"Please.  I've heard worse."

"How much worse?"

"Bad enough that I wouldn't dare say them in front of a lady."

"What lady?"

"You."

"Oh, so its 'lady' now?"

"Oh, come on, Mione."

Hermione laughed and reached across the table to give Ethan a light shove.

"I'm just joking."

"Glad to hear it."

"So you'll go with me?"

"I said 'yes', didn't I?  And what's Ron going to think of this?"

"I'll handle Ron."

"What do you mean 'you'll handle Ron?'  I have to sleep in the same room with him!"

"I'll take care of him."

"I'll have to trust you to do that."

"I guess you will.  Do you trust me?"

"Indefinitely."

"Okay then.  I'll talk to you later?"

"Of course."

Ethan let the Anti-Eavesdropping Charm drop and watched Hermione as she walked over to talk to Ginny.  He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head.

What in Merlin's name have I gotten myself into?