Harry arrived back at the Great Hall to find that the party was starting to die down. Dessert had just been served, and most students were seated around the tables laughing and gossiping over Halloween sweets. The Weird Sisters were playing an old standard Harry recognized from the Muggle radio, and several of the die-hard couples were dancing. Harry noted, with a sinking heart, that Ginny Weasley was resolutely shuffling back and forth with some Ravenclaw fourth year, who was stepping on her toes.

He found Ron and Hermione acidly ignoring one another, sitting next to Luna and Neville. Everyone looked flushed and sweaty, and Hermione had put her straggly hair up into a bun. Neville was wearing a poorly tied tie, as expected, and while Luna wasn't wearing a radish, she had decided to wear a tuxedo vest and striped slacks, complete with pocket watch and top hat, which was now sitting on the table. She'd sat herself on Neville's lap, with her legs neatly crossed, and was dreamily stroking his head like a puppy.

Ron chucked Harry a Chocolate Frog without needing to be asked, and gestured vaguely at the couples rocking aimlessly back and forth.

"Come on, mate...tell me that isn't pathetic. Who honestly feels the need to make an idiot of themselves in front of the whole school?"

"Nevermind, Harry," Hermione said briskly, "[I]Ronald[/I] is being an idiot."

Luna cocked her head to the side.

"Not an idiot," Luna said, thoughtfully, "So much as a coward, really." She returned her full attention to Neville who was gazing at her with a goofy, sappy look on his face.

"Err, what is Luna wearing?" Harry whispered quietly to Ron.

"Oh!" Luna said, overhearing, "I'm the Mad Hatter! See?" She nudged her top hat.

"No argument here," Ron muttered under his breath, "Isn't it only Muggles that dress up for Halloween?"

"I thought it would be fun," Luna said, with a playfully arched eyebrow, "What are you pretending to be? A Quidditch player?"

Harry snorted in spite of himself, and earned a glare from Ron.

Hermione sighed impatiently, "Well, I'm dancing with [I]someone.[/I] Come on, Harry."

"Whuh?" Harry said, articulately.

But Hermione had already grabbed his wrist and was dragging him forcibly to the small knot of people near the front of the stage. Harry thought he heard Draco Malfoy's obnoxious laugh from the Syltherin table, and winced. How could Hermione do this to him?

"Because she doesn't know," Harry thought sadly, "She's dancing with her best friend, that's all."

Hermione busily clamped his hands on her waist, put hers around his neck, and glared into the space over his right shoulder.

"Start with your left," she said, grumpily.

"It's not my fault," Harry said, shuffling about awkwardly and trying to count, "that Ron won't dance with you."

Hermione's shoulders went down a few inches, and she smiled at Harry.

"Sorry," she said sincerely, "He just gets under my skin." She blushed a bit.

"Anyway," Hermione said, leaning in closer, "I thought this would be a good opportunity to talk away from Luna and Neville. We can fill Ron in later. What happened with Dumbledore?"

Harry's heart sank even further. Did all girls treat dancing like a business meeting? It was as though they were sitting at the lunch table discussing the Daily Prophet, only their feet just happened to be moving underneath them.

"Nothing, really," Harry said, as reassuringly as he could muster, "He basically just said to stick together, and keep an eye out."

Hermione frowned, "Well that's not totally reassuring."

"Oh!" Harry said, his self-pity suddenly forgotten, "Snape was there...he had a couple people with him..."

Harry lost himself in relating the story. Hermione listened, nodding and punctuating his account with her reactions. For a while, Harry felt like maybe things could be normal again between them – it felt so good just to [I]talk[/I] to Hermione, without having to feel like his feet were too large, or his tongue tying in knots.

"And he was furious when I showed up," Harry said darkly, "Occlumency is going to be extra difficult this Monday."

"Well, he's always had it in for you," Hermione said sympathetically, "At this point, he can't get much worse."

"Miserable old bat," Harry said.

Hermione looked at him strangely, and laughed abruptly.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, with her sneaking-in-the-corners smile.

Suddenly, there was some scattered clapping, and Harry and Hermione looked up to realize the song had ended. The Weird Sisters smiled and nodded appreciatively, and before the strains of their last chord could die completely, launched into another song.

Harry felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see Ron standing there, his face as red as a beet. Dean and Seamus were back at the Gryffindor table howling with laughter, and Luna appeared to be waving Neville's tie above their heads in encouragement.

Ron couldn't seem to bring himself to look at either of them, but stood there with his arms folded.

"Yes?" Hermione said frostily.

Ron shrugged.

"Well, d'you want to dance, or not?"

Hermione seemed to weigh momentarily the pros and cons – Harry had to admit, even he wasn't so much of an idiot as to expect a girl to dance with him when he asked like that...On the other hand, they both knew how much it had taken for Ron to swallow his pride, walk past the entire school, and ask Hermione to dance.

"Fine," Hermione said coolly, "You do know how?"

Ron looked up at Hermione with a determined scowl, grabbed her about the waist, and they were off.

Harry stood there flabbergasted for a moment. Ron wasn't just rocking back and forth on his trainers like everyone else – he was actually guiding Hermione about the floor...to the beat of the music, no less. The only time Harry had seen Ron this graceful was...well, no, he'd never seen Ron this graceful. He blinked owlishly. What next? Viktor Krum performing with the Royal Ballet?

He could see the Gryffindors running up and down the table gossiping with one another, Parvati and Lavender hiding their laughter behind their hands.

"Let them laugh!" Harry thought with fierce pride, "He's doing great!"

His pride, however, slowly dissolved into an odd sense of panic. Where did he fit in this picture? He suddenly realized it was odd for him to be standing here in the middle of the floor with no partner. He took a few steps over and leaned against the edge of the Ravenclaw table. He glanced over to his right to find Ginny Weasley doing the same.

"Hi," she said simply.

"Hi," Harry said. They both turned to watch as Ron seemed to pull Hermione forward across his chest, elegantly turn her about, and dip her neatly. Harry noticed Hermione had a white-knuckle grip on his shoulder, holding on for dear life.

Ginny chuckled under her breath. "This is killing him, you know that?"

Harry looked at Ron's face – his face was still flushed with embarrassment.

"At least he'll die happy," Harry said wryly. He and Ginny chuckled.

"Where on earth did Ron learn how to do that?" Harry asked.

"Mum," Ginny said simply, "And Dad. We couldn't afford to go out or anything, so in the summer when it was nice out, Dad would take out one of his Muggle things..." Ginny frowned, and tried to depict it with her hands, "A spinny thing...with a big black..."

"Record player?"

"That's the one. And they'd teach all of us in the back yard. It was a nightmare...Percy and Ron got to take turns stepping on my feet."

"What about Fred and George?"

"Mum tried to teach them," Ginny said, smiling as she remembered, "But they just pretended not to get it...they kept tripping each other on purpose, or trying to knock me and Ron over."

Harry looked over and watched Ginny watching her brother dance. She looked happy and sad at the same time...There was a softness in her face that reminded him of someone...

"It doesn't sound like a nightmare," Harry said, looking back at them, "Not to someone who never knew their family."

Ginny laughed abruptly, "You met your family on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Harry, six years ago."

Harry felt his heartstrings tug, and looked at Ginny strangely – this didn't sound like her. This sounded like someone much older.

"I'm sorry I've been a pain," she said, "I know you've got a lot on your mind. I understand what that's like."

Harry suddenly remembered that she'd been possessed by Lord Voldemort during her first year, that she'd nearly died...why did he keep forgetting that?

"It's because of her," Harry reflected, "She acts like it never happened...or like her house never burned down this year...she has a way of just shutting out the bad things..."

"I won't bother you anymore," Ginny said with a smile.

"You're not a bother," Harry said, feeling ashamed.

"Of course I was," she said, laughing, "Or have you forgotten? 'His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad?'"

Harry laughed, and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

"See? I told you I was a bother," Ginny said, still grinning at him. She suddenly focused on his eyes, and squinted strangely.

"What's wrong with your eyes?"

"I've always worn glasses," Harry said confusedly.

"No, I mean...nevermind," she said blushing, "They just look different in this light, that's all."

She looked away abruptly.

"I really did make her feel awful," Harry thought guiltily.

"Where's Michael?" he asked.

"Oh," Ginny said, "He basically figured it out. That I was never going to fall in love with him," she added, at Harry's puzzled look. She sighed, and smiled.

"Well," Harry said, standing casually, "I may not be as good as Ron, but I promise not to step on your feet."

Ginny smiled, "That's because you don't pick up your feet."

"See? You're safe," Harry smiled, holding out a hand.

For the second time that night, Harry ended up shuffling about awkwardly with a good friend, and not knowing quite how to feel about it.