A/N: I was really bored and this just occurred. Don't shoot me over the pairing; it's obscure and not really focused on. Anyway, I hope you like it. Takes place winteresque time of 4th year. I know this contains some inconsistencies. I am just too lazy to go back and refer to the book. And I apologize for the first chapter being so long.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, J.K. Rowling does.
She stirred from her peaceful slumber, rubbing her ice blue eyes. As she gathered her school supplies, she quickly got dressed. She stopped, looking at the full-length mirror.
"Plain brown hair, plain blue eyes," Lavender sighed; putting on her makeup.
She crossed off another day on her calendar, "Only 28 more days 'til the Yule Ball."
Usually the thought of a romantic, Christmas formal would excite most girls. The chance to dress up and dance the night away was typically alluring.
But not to Lavender. Without anyone to go with, she was certainly not looking forward to the big event of the season. She'd die first before going stag.
Lavender put her hair up in a ponytail and made her way to class.
.......
He was rudely awakened from his sleep with a tackle courtesy from Dean.
"Take cover!" Thomas shouted, as Ron shot out fireworks at the tangled two.
"What the bloody hell?!" asked a groggy Harry. "With you guys cut it out, it's Sunday."
"Wrong, Potter," snorted Seamus, "Wake up to a lovely Monday Morn!"
Neville brushed himself off, shaking his head as Dean and Ron continued their battle. He tried to brush his hair, but the comb's teeth bit back. He defended himself, but tripped over someone's forgotten blanket.
"Nice goin', Swan," commented Seamus.
Swan. His dreaded nickname. Since he lacked the natural grace and altogether appeal of the creature, he was rather annoyed by the designation.
"Oh shove it," was Neville's response.
He washed up; catching a glimpse of the calendar on the wall. "28 days..." he sighed.
....30 Minutes Later....
During transfiguration, Lavender assessed her options.
"Harry? No. God, no. Definitely not my type what so ever," she thought.
She played with a fallen strand of her brunette hair, looking nonchalantly to her left.
"Justin? Eh...maybe," she considered with a sour look on her face.
"What about," she scanned the classroom, "Ah. Mr. Weasley. Red hair is the new craze," she sat debating. "Or not. Moving on,"
Lavender doodled in her notebook. She had already picked out the perfect dress and hairstyle. She knew how she wanted her nails done, what eye shadow and what lipstick to go along with it. She knew what pair of shoes went with the dress, and even what table she would sit at.
But she hadn't the slightest idea who she could go with, if anyone. Well, there was...
.......
He ran into class, 15 minutes late.
"I'm really sorry, Professor," choked Neville, out of breath, "Peeves-"
"That's enough, Mr. Longbottom, please take your seat."
Lavender looked up out of interest. He faced the crowd that was now staring at him. His eyes momentarily met with hers. Neville shook his head and took his seat next to Hannah Abbot.
It had only been for a second or two, but it made her cheeks flush pink. She bit her lip; clearing her throat.
"What about Neville?" piped a small voice in the back of her mind.
"What about Neville." Her conscious mind responded.
"He is looking better this year," said the voice.
"Oh, posh. You're joking, right?" she argued with herself silently. After a few minutes she realized what she was doing.
"Boy did I not get enough sleep last night," she thought, her mind agreeing.
....A Week Later...
He meant to ask her before, but couldn't find the right time. She was so popular, and was always surrounded by people. How was he supposed to get his opportunity?
.......
"21 days, Lavender! I'm so pumped!" declared an excited Ginny in the common room, after classes had ended.
"Yeah," responded Lavender, absentmindedly.
"Can you believe that Dean Thomas asked me to go? I mean, I really wanted to go, but I never thought that I would get the chance to!" she rambled on.
Lavender nodded in all the right places, sipping her tea. She watched as Neville came down the dormitory staircase; the teacup hiding her hopeful smile.
He saw her, her pale ice blue eyes staring at him, her hair softly falling over her face. His head and mind focused on Lavender, but his feet kept moving. He tripped the rest of the way down, landing hard on his back. Neville sat up, rubbing his head. He cursed himself for acting like such a fool.
"So much for that," he thought.
She sat up in her chair, her heart racing as she looked on from afar.
"Nice going, Swan," sniggered Fred.
"Watch out, these stairs will lash out at you if you're not careful!" added George.
Neville shook his head, murmuring, "Thanks."
"Are you alright?" she asked, truly concerned.
"Oh...I'm fine," he said, getting up.
She felt for him, but it wasn't pity. His clumsiness was, daresay, cute in a way. She sheepishly smiled as he straightened out his clothes. She looked down, her cheeks red, sipping her tea as he fixed his hair and put his hands in his pockets.
"I'll, uh, see you later," he said, retreating out of the common room.
"Bye," she called after him, watching him leave with a sigh.
....5 Days Later... Neville woke up early that Saturday. He hurriedly got dressed, taking pains not to wake his fellow Gryffindors. He slinked out of the common room, and made his way towards the astronomy tower.
......
"Ah, there you are! I saw you coming, dear," remarked Professor Trelawney.
"Through your crystal ball?" Neville asked, quite nervous. He never did fair well around teachers.
"Oh, no. The door was open."
"Oh."
The old Seer reached into her closet and pulled out a dusty machine. She went back in and retrieved a large, black disc. She placed it on the aged record player, and turned it on. Suddenly a soothing melody, a sort of waltz, filled the dimly lit room.
"Now, dear, come over here and take the slow dance position. Good, good."
Neville was shaking, but he was going to prove everyone wrong. He can be graceful.
"Now repeat after me. One, two, three. One, two, three. Listen to the rhythm of the music; see? One, two, three. One, two, three."
He tried to dance to the music, whispering to himself, "One, two, three. One, two, three."
"Come on, pay attention to the beat," she criticized.
"One, two, three. One, two, three," he repeated.
...An Hour Later...
"Ah, you've improved tons, much better than last week," she complimented.
"Thank you, Professor," he smiled, taking a breath.
"See you next Saturday, dear. Oh wait! Make that Tuesday! You've got a quiz on smoke formations!"
"See you, Professor," he called, speeding confidently down the spiral stairs.
...Later that Day...
Lavender crossed off another day on her calendar. "15 days," she muttered, laying back on her bed.
"So, Herm, you hoofin' it to the Ball, too?"
Hermione looked up from her book and blushed. "Uh...actually..." she smiled.
"Oh." Lavender sat up, crossing her legs. "Whom are you going with, then?" she asked, half-heartedly.
"Just a friend," she said, secretively.
"Ah."
.......
Lavender had given up. It was a mere seven days before the ball and she was still dateless. She picked up her bag and headed to the library to work on her Potion's essay.
There, she sat down at a vacant table, getting out her parchment and quill. She tried to work on the paper, but couldn't concentrate. She sighed, scribbling the initials LB on her parchment. She shook her head, "Stop being silly," she thought, scratching out the possibility.
He looked up, searching through the herbology section in the shelves.
She let her mind wander as she scanned the area for anything remotely interesting. She spotted him, reaching for a book on the top shelf. She blushed profusely and tried to avert her gaze unsuccessfully. She blindly reached for her Potions book, knocking it off the table.
Lavender leaned over to get it as Neville swerved to see what had made the sound. And he saw her. He quickly hid behind a bookcase, biting his lip. She looked up and he was gone.
"Smooth," she whispered to no one, letting out a frustrated breath.
He lowered his head, his back to the wooden shelf. He attempted to calm himself to no avail.
"Come on, you're a Gryffindor for God's sakes. Show some bravery," he muttered to himself.
She went back to working, her hand supporting her head. She flipped through the pages of her textbook, uninterested.
"Anyone sitting here?" Neville asked, his voice somewhat shaking.
"What, oh, not at all. Have a seat," she smiled, running a hand through her hair.
He sat across from her, "Am I interrupting anything?"
"Nope, I barely started this potions essay, it's so boring," she replied, nervous.
"Yeah...Hey, who are you going to the formal with next week?"
She looked up at him, embarrassed.
"No one, actually, I wasn't gonna go."
He rubbed the back of his neck; he could hear his heart pounding.
"I was wondering, if you'd like to go with me..." His words trailed off at the end, but she didn't care.
Her ice blue eyes lit up, a smile spreading over her face.
"S-sure," she accepted immediately, rather shocked.
He smiled, and put his hand on hers.
A/N: There is another chapter! So how did you like it?
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, J.K. Rowling does.
She stirred from her peaceful slumber, rubbing her ice blue eyes. As she gathered her school supplies, she quickly got dressed. She stopped, looking at the full-length mirror.
"Plain brown hair, plain blue eyes," Lavender sighed; putting on her makeup.
She crossed off another day on her calendar, "Only 28 more days 'til the Yule Ball."
Usually the thought of a romantic, Christmas formal would excite most girls. The chance to dress up and dance the night away was typically alluring.
But not to Lavender. Without anyone to go with, she was certainly not looking forward to the big event of the season. She'd die first before going stag.
Lavender put her hair up in a ponytail and made her way to class.
.......
He was rudely awakened from his sleep with a tackle courtesy from Dean.
"Take cover!" Thomas shouted, as Ron shot out fireworks at the tangled two.
"What the bloody hell?!" asked a groggy Harry. "With you guys cut it out, it's Sunday."
"Wrong, Potter," snorted Seamus, "Wake up to a lovely Monday Morn!"
Neville brushed himself off, shaking his head as Dean and Ron continued their battle. He tried to brush his hair, but the comb's teeth bit back. He defended himself, but tripped over someone's forgotten blanket.
"Nice goin', Swan," commented Seamus.
Swan. His dreaded nickname. Since he lacked the natural grace and altogether appeal of the creature, he was rather annoyed by the designation.
"Oh shove it," was Neville's response.
He washed up; catching a glimpse of the calendar on the wall. "28 days..." he sighed.
....30 Minutes Later....
During transfiguration, Lavender assessed her options.
"Harry? No. God, no. Definitely not my type what so ever," she thought.
She played with a fallen strand of her brunette hair, looking nonchalantly to her left.
"Justin? Eh...maybe," she considered with a sour look on her face.
"What about," she scanned the classroom, "Ah. Mr. Weasley. Red hair is the new craze," she sat debating. "Or not. Moving on,"
Lavender doodled in her notebook. She had already picked out the perfect dress and hairstyle. She knew how she wanted her nails done, what eye shadow and what lipstick to go along with it. She knew what pair of shoes went with the dress, and even what table she would sit at.
But she hadn't the slightest idea who she could go with, if anyone. Well, there was...
.......
He ran into class, 15 minutes late.
"I'm really sorry, Professor," choked Neville, out of breath, "Peeves-"
"That's enough, Mr. Longbottom, please take your seat."
Lavender looked up out of interest. He faced the crowd that was now staring at him. His eyes momentarily met with hers. Neville shook his head and took his seat next to Hannah Abbot.
It had only been for a second or two, but it made her cheeks flush pink. She bit her lip; clearing her throat.
"What about Neville?" piped a small voice in the back of her mind.
"What about Neville." Her conscious mind responded.
"He is looking better this year," said the voice.
"Oh, posh. You're joking, right?" she argued with herself silently. After a few minutes she realized what she was doing.
"Boy did I not get enough sleep last night," she thought, her mind agreeing.
....A Week Later...
He meant to ask her before, but couldn't find the right time. She was so popular, and was always surrounded by people. How was he supposed to get his opportunity?
.......
"21 days, Lavender! I'm so pumped!" declared an excited Ginny in the common room, after classes had ended.
"Yeah," responded Lavender, absentmindedly.
"Can you believe that Dean Thomas asked me to go? I mean, I really wanted to go, but I never thought that I would get the chance to!" she rambled on.
Lavender nodded in all the right places, sipping her tea. She watched as Neville came down the dormitory staircase; the teacup hiding her hopeful smile.
He saw her, her pale ice blue eyes staring at him, her hair softly falling over her face. His head and mind focused on Lavender, but his feet kept moving. He tripped the rest of the way down, landing hard on his back. Neville sat up, rubbing his head. He cursed himself for acting like such a fool.
"So much for that," he thought.
She sat up in her chair, her heart racing as she looked on from afar.
"Nice going, Swan," sniggered Fred.
"Watch out, these stairs will lash out at you if you're not careful!" added George.
Neville shook his head, murmuring, "Thanks."
"Are you alright?" she asked, truly concerned.
"Oh...I'm fine," he said, getting up.
She felt for him, but it wasn't pity. His clumsiness was, daresay, cute in a way. She sheepishly smiled as he straightened out his clothes. She looked down, her cheeks red, sipping her tea as he fixed his hair and put his hands in his pockets.
"I'll, uh, see you later," he said, retreating out of the common room.
"Bye," she called after him, watching him leave with a sigh.
....5 Days Later... Neville woke up early that Saturday. He hurriedly got dressed, taking pains not to wake his fellow Gryffindors. He slinked out of the common room, and made his way towards the astronomy tower.
......
"Ah, there you are! I saw you coming, dear," remarked Professor Trelawney.
"Through your crystal ball?" Neville asked, quite nervous. He never did fair well around teachers.
"Oh, no. The door was open."
"Oh."
The old Seer reached into her closet and pulled out a dusty machine. She went back in and retrieved a large, black disc. She placed it on the aged record player, and turned it on. Suddenly a soothing melody, a sort of waltz, filled the dimly lit room.
"Now, dear, come over here and take the slow dance position. Good, good."
Neville was shaking, but he was going to prove everyone wrong. He can be graceful.
"Now repeat after me. One, two, three. One, two, three. Listen to the rhythm of the music; see? One, two, three. One, two, three."
He tried to dance to the music, whispering to himself, "One, two, three. One, two, three."
"Come on, pay attention to the beat," she criticized.
"One, two, three. One, two, three," he repeated.
...An Hour Later...
"Ah, you've improved tons, much better than last week," she complimented.
"Thank you, Professor," he smiled, taking a breath.
"See you next Saturday, dear. Oh wait! Make that Tuesday! You've got a quiz on smoke formations!"
"See you, Professor," he called, speeding confidently down the spiral stairs.
...Later that Day...
Lavender crossed off another day on her calendar. "15 days," she muttered, laying back on her bed.
"So, Herm, you hoofin' it to the Ball, too?"
Hermione looked up from her book and blushed. "Uh...actually..." she smiled.
"Oh." Lavender sat up, crossing her legs. "Whom are you going with, then?" she asked, half-heartedly.
"Just a friend," she said, secretively.
"Ah."
.......
Lavender had given up. It was a mere seven days before the ball and she was still dateless. She picked up her bag and headed to the library to work on her Potion's essay.
There, she sat down at a vacant table, getting out her parchment and quill. She tried to work on the paper, but couldn't concentrate. She sighed, scribbling the initials LB on her parchment. She shook her head, "Stop being silly," she thought, scratching out the possibility.
He looked up, searching through the herbology section in the shelves.
She let her mind wander as she scanned the area for anything remotely interesting. She spotted him, reaching for a book on the top shelf. She blushed profusely and tried to avert her gaze unsuccessfully. She blindly reached for her Potions book, knocking it off the table.
Lavender leaned over to get it as Neville swerved to see what had made the sound. And he saw her. He quickly hid behind a bookcase, biting his lip. She looked up and he was gone.
"Smooth," she whispered to no one, letting out a frustrated breath.
He lowered his head, his back to the wooden shelf. He attempted to calm himself to no avail.
"Come on, you're a Gryffindor for God's sakes. Show some bravery," he muttered to himself.
She went back to working, her hand supporting her head. She flipped through the pages of her textbook, uninterested.
"Anyone sitting here?" Neville asked, his voice somewhat shaking.
"What, oh, not at all. Have a seat," she smiled, running a hand through her hair.
He sat across from her, "Am I interrupting anything?"
"Nope, I barely started this potions essay, it's so boring," she replied, nervous.
"Yeah...Hey, who are you going to the formal with next week?"
She looked up at him, embarrassed.
"No one, actually, I wasn't gonna go."
He rubbed the back of his neck; he could hear his heart pounding.
"I was wondering, if you'd like to go with me..." His words trailed off at the end, but she didn't care.
Her ice blue eyes lit up, a smile spreading over her face.
"S-sure," she accepted immediately, rather shocked.
He smiled, and put his hand on hers.
A/N: There is another chapter! So how did you like it?