Harry was in a part of the castle he'd never been before, heading up a spiral staircase to what he hoped was Ravenclaw Tower—it should be, if he'd followed Katie Bell's instructions properly.

He climbed the last step, adjusting his bottle green dress robes and looked up—and knew he was in precisely the right place. Standing in front of a door with no knob, and only a bronze knocker in the shape of a keyhole, were Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang, looking decidedly happy to see each other.

Harry felt like he'd been punched in the stomach—if he'd only gotten there sooner, he could be here with Cho. They had essentially found her at the same time.

He paused, not wanting to interrupt, to have to talk to them, but there was also nowhere else to go.

And then Diggory saw him.

"Hey, Harry," he said amiably.

Cho turned and saw him too. "Hi," she said.

"Hi."

"Is your date in Ravenclaw, too?" Cedric asked politely.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Oh, you're going with Luna, right?" Cho asked. "She's been so excited! You know what, let me go tell her you're here."

And before Harry could respond, a group of Ravenclaw sixth years had opened the door to leave, and Cho disappeared inside, leaving Cedric and Harry standing there.

"You're going to the ball with Luna Lovegood?" Cedric asked curiously.

"We're friends," Harry said defensively, as if daring Cedric to make fun of her. He'd heard enough about "Loony Lovegood" from Seamus and Dean, and while a part of him wished Luna wasn't so weird, she was one of the few people he'd ever met who didn't make a big deal about his scar or his past, and that counted for something.

But Cedric surprised him.

"She's a sweet kid," he said.

"You know her?" Harry was surprised.

"We grew up in the same area," Cedric explained. "The Weasleys too, although they usually kept to themselves. My mum was good friends with Luna's, so she was always over our house when we were younger. She loved playing with my puffskein."

He smiled fondly, but then it faltered. "After her mum died, she stopped coming over," he added. "But I always really liked her."

Harry hadn't known that Luna's mum was dead, and he wasn't sure what to say.

"Listen," Cedric said, looking a bit uncomfortable. "I owe you for the dragons. You know that golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?"

"Yeah."

"Well… take a bath, OK?"

"I worked that bit out," Harry told him defensively, not wanting Cedric to think he was so stupid he couldn't work out a riddle. "But there aren't exactly a lot of baths in Hogwarts."

Cedric looked relieved, clearly glad to have a way to repay Harry. "Use the prefects' bathroom," he said. "Fourth door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. The password is Pine Fresh."

"Er, thanks," Harry said.

The door opened and Cho and Luna appeared. Luna was wearing seafoam green robes, and an elaborate half-updo with seashells strewn throughout her hair. She looked nice in an unusual way—Harry supposed that was always how Luna Lovegood looked—and he had the distinct impression that she resembled a mermaid, which seemed appropriate given what he knew about the second task.

"Hi, Luna," Harry said. "You look nice."

Luna smiled serenely. "So do you," she said.

"You look great, Luna," Cedric smiled. "How's your dad?"

"He's doing well. He's got a riveting cover story coming out about the Rotfang conspiracy," she told him. Turning to Harry, she added, "Dad runs The Quibbler."

Harry wasn't sure what The Quibbler was, but from the dubious expression on Cho's face, he didn't think she liked it.

But Cedric smiled affectionately at Luna. "I can't wait to read it."

Cho looked at Cedric quizzically, clearly astonished, but Harry got the impression that Cedric was not particularly interested in the Rotfang conspiracy—whatever that was—and was indulging Luna a bit to make her feel good. Much as Harry wanted to dislike Cedric for being Cho's date, he felt his anger at him dissipating a bit.

"Do you two want to walk down with us?" Cedric offered.

Despite his waning irritability toward Cedric, Harry couldn't think of anything he'd like to do less.

"Oh, no," Luna said dreamily, taking Harry's arm. "We'll be down in a minute."

Cedric and Cho went down the stairs, leaving Harry standing awkwardly with Luna outside Ravenclaw Tower, wondering why she was hanging on his arm and if he had severely miscalculated her interest in him.

"Did you forget something?" Harry asked. Why were they still standing there?

"No," Luna said, dropping his arm. "But it seemed like you'd rather not go with them."

Harry was unnerved by how well Luna could read him.

"Right," he said, not bothering to deny it. "Well, they're well ahead of us now. Should we go?"

The entrance hall was packed. He saw Fred and George entertaining Angelina and Alicia with some wild story, and Parvati talking excitedly to Dean, while her sister, Padma, looked far less excited beside them next to Ron. As Seamus had relayed it to Harry the other day, Dean had asked Parvati and gotten Ron a date with her sister.

Pansy Parkinson was hanging onto Malfoy's arm like she had a death grip, and Fleur Delacour, accompanied by Roger Davies, floated through like she owned the place.

The oak front doors opened, and the Durmstrang contingent walked in, Krum leading the pack with Hermione.

Except it wasn't Hermione—not as Harry had ever seen her.

Her hair was different—sleek and shiny, and twisted up in an elegant, elaborate knot—and she seemed to be standing a bit taller than normal, smiling nervously. Without all of her hair overwhelming her face, the light dusting of freckles on her nose seemed more prominent, but her warm brown eyes were the same—tonight they were sparkling with excitement.

"Have you been attacked by wrackspurts?" Luna suddenly asked him in a concerned voice.

"W-what?" Harry asked, tearing his eyes from Hermione to look at her in confusion. "What are wrackspurts?"

They're invisible creatures that float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy," Luna informed him. "You looked like one might have gotten you."

"Er, no, I don't think so," Harry said, hoping he wasn't wandering around with a dumb look on his face.

"Hi, Harry! Hi, Luna!" Hermione said excitedly, as Professor McGonagall instructed the champions and their partners to stand to the side while everyone else entered the Great Hall; then the champions could make their grand entrance.

"Hi," Harry replied. "You look great!" Hermione beamed at him.

And then the champions and their dates were walking inside, with everyone staring at them. Harry wasn't sure if he heard more disbelief directed toward Luna or Hermione, but both irritated him. For her part, Luna didn't seem to notice at all, walking serenely beside Harry, eyes straight ahead, that dreamy look on her face, as they headed to the table where the judges were sitting. He couldn't see Hermione behind him, but he hoped none of the gossip was ruining her night.

Finally, they arrived at the table, and Harry was surprised to see Percy Weasley sitting there instead of Mr. Crouch. He pointed to an empty seat next to him, in which Harry sat, and then Percy droned on about how he'd gotten a promotion and the details of Mr. Crouch's welfare.

And Hermione wondered why no one listened to him.

"You work for the Department of International Magical Cooperation?" Luna asked.

"Yes," Percy said pompously.

"So then you know all about Cornelius Fudge's deal with the Spanish government to use his army of heliopaths to take over France?"

"The—the what?" Percy blinked, clearly confused.

"His deal to take over France," Luna repeated. "Everyone knows there's a colony of loompaloos living in the Eiffel Tower. They're so valuable, of course Fudge wants them for himself."

Percy looked at her like she had three heads. "Er, right," he said, glancing at Harry skeptically before turning the other way to speak with Cedric Diggory. He did not turn Harry's way again.

Harry leaned toward Luna's ear and whispered, "You're the best proper friendship date ever." She beamed.

The dinner was much more pleasant after that. Harry had caught Cedric's eye once in commiseration—Percy had exhausted his current work activities and was back on cauldron bottoms—and Harry couldn't help but feel bad for Cedric, despite who his date was—and grateful that he told Harry about the prefects' bathroom so Harry didn't have to spend all night trying to get Percy to tell him more about it.

Far too soon, dinner was over. Dumbledore cleared the hall of tables to make way for a dance floor and a platform for the Weird Sisters to play on. He indicated that the champions should take their places on the dance floor to open the Yule Ball. Harry stared straight ahead, refusing to look anyone in the eye for fear they'd trip him up somehow, and then turned to Luna. He placed his hand on her waist and took her other hand as Hermione had showed him, and was grateful that his hands didn't feel clammy at all.

The music started and he began to steer them around, concentrating on the steps and not tripping over his feet. Luna looked up at him placidly—that's right, he was supposed to look at his partner's face—and he gave her a small smile.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm not that great at this."

"Oh no," Luna said enthusiastically. "I've never danced with anyone at all, so you're the best dance partner I've ever had."

Despite how good-natured Luna was, Harry was still grateful when other couples joined them on the dance floor. Neville and Ginny were nearby—Neville gave him a thumbs up as he passed Harry, though he was having a bit more trouble himself. He stepped on Ginny's foot every third move, but Hermione's cushioning charm seemed to be working because Ginny was laughing at whatever Neville was saying. Fred was doing some sort of jig that was completely inappropriate to the music—though Angelina was dancing just as exuberantly as him—and Seamus looked rather like Harry felt about dancing as he passed by with Lavender.

Moody, dancing with Professor Sinistra, complimented his socks—a mismatching pair of red and green ones that he could see with his magical eye—and Harry informed him that they were a gift from his friend, Dobby, who worked in the kitchens.

"You're friends with a house elf?" Luna asked, and while her pale eyebrows made her look perpetually surprised, he could tell that she was actually shocked—but in a delighted sort of way.

"Yeah," Harry told her. "I sort of helped free him a couple of years ago, and now he works at Hogwarts."

"How interesting! I've never met a house elf before, and I think I'd quite like to," Luna said. "I know I could just go down to the kitchens, but that seems a little rude, don't you think? To just interrupt them while they're working and expect them to cater to me?"

"Actually, I think they'd like it," Harry told her, and couldn't get the thought of a conversation between Luna and Dobby out of his mind. Grinning, he added impulsively, "Tell you what, next time we go down there, why don't you come with us?"

"I'd love to!" Luna said, smiling happily.

Harry smiled, thinking Luna and Hermione might just get along better than he first thought.

And when the first song ended, he felt even more kinship for Luna when she said, "We don't have to dance for this one. You don't seem to like it, and I'm not sure if I do either."

They exited the dance floor, and found Neville and Ginny getting butterbeers.

"It's great, isn't it?" Neville said, looking around. "The pork chops were the best I ever had! And I've never seen the Weird Sisters in person!"

Harry had to admit that the Weird Sisters were very good.

"What was Percy talking about at dinner?" Ginny asked them curiously.

"His promotion," Harry told her. "And cauldron bottoms."

Ginny grinned.

The song ended and a new one—just as fast as the last—started up.

"Do you want to go again?" Neville asked Ginny.

"Sure," she said. They turned to look at Harry and Luna.

"Not right now," Luna said, to Harry's relief.

They finished their butterbeers and were about to head to the tables to relax, when he saw Ron sitting nearby, glaring angrily at the dancers, while Padma Patil looked bored and annoyed beside him. He looked around for his friends—Dean and Seamus were still on the dance floor and he spotted Hermione somewhere in the middle.

"How about we check out the garden?" Harry asked and Luna agreed.

The teachers had transformed an area of the lawn into a grotto filled with fairy lights, flowers, statues and ornamental paths. Luna and Harry ambled this way and that.

They passed a Ravenclaw girl with curly, reddish-blonde hair that Harry recognized as one of Cho Chang's friends, and she gave Luna an incredulous look before turning to her date, giggling and loudly whispering something very rude that Harry would never repeat about "Loony."

Luna either didn't hear or didn't care because she didn't seem to have a reaction, but Harry frowned. He hadn't thought Cho would be friends with someone like that.

Luna started transfiguring the roses into crocuses and snapdragons in wild, chaotic arrangements of electric blue, bright orange and fuschia. Aunt Petunia would think it vulgar and disordered, but Harry found he rather preferred Luna's version of the garden.

But then they heard harsh whispers. He motioned to her to stop moving and listened.

It was Snape and Karkaroff. Karkaroff was fretting about something getting clearer, and Snape snarled at him to flee if he wanted. They rounded the corner, Snape magically moving rose bushes to catch snogging couples, and Harry tried very hard to look like he hadn't just been eavesdropping on them.

"What are you doing?" Snape barked, as Karkaroff looked on uncomfortable.

Before Harry could answer, Snape caught sight of some of Luna's transfigured flowers.

"Defiling the garden, I see," he sneered.

Harry, who thought Luna had done a rather good job, retorted, "There's nothing wrong with those flowers!"

Snape looked at him coolly. "Seeing as how I doubt Potter has the mental capacity to transfigure a napkin into a tissue, 10 points from Ravenclaw, Ms. Lovegood."

Then, he added, "And 10 from Gryffindor for your lip, Potter."

He swept away with Karkaroff following. Harry felt the usual helpless anger he did after an encounter with Snape.

"He's not a very pleasant man, is he?" Luna commented as blandly as if they were discussing the weather. Harry chuckled, feeling himself calm down. That was the understatement of the year.

They turned the corner and saw two large figures sitting on a bench by the fountains. It was Hagrid and Madame Maxime.

"Momen' I saw yeh, I knew," Hagrid said huskily. Harry froze. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but instinctively, he knew he shouldn't be listening to this. He turned and saw Roger Davies and Fleur Delacour half concealed in a rose bush nearby. He jerked his head that way, indicating to Luna that they should go around them and leave, but she cocked her head curiously at them.

"Is that what snogging is supposed to look like?" Luna asked.

Harry couldn't help but take a closer look at them, and found he couldn't look away, much as he wanted to. Roger Davies looked like he was eating Fleur Delacour's face, and Harry supremely hoped that it wasn't what snogging was supposed to look like—certainly that's not how he'd seen it done by the older students (the ones who didn't bother to find an empty classroom) in the Gryffindor common room. Maybe Davies was just an exceptionally bad kisser, or Fleur's veela charm was making him a bit too exuberant—because it did not look enjoyable at all.

Roger Davies moved to Fleur's neck.

"Perhaps he's a vampire," Luna said conversationally.

As if she could feel their eyes on her—or perhaps hear Luna as she wasn't exactly whispering—Fleur opened her eyes and shot daggers at Harry.

Harry took a step back, not wanting to pass by Fleur now, but tripped over the hem of his dress robes, falling backward. He crashed into the rose bush—it had been de-thorned thankfully—and slammed his hand down on a stone reindeer to try to break his fall, nearly crushing a beetle in the process.

"Harry, are you all right?" Luna called, starting toward him to help him up. He looked over her shoulder and saw Fleur snickering at him.

Hagrid and Madame Maxime seemed to hear the commotion as well, realized they were not quite alone in the grotto, and walked off toward Hagrid's hut arm in arm.

For his part, Harry couldn't help but laugh—he had actually tripped over the hem of his dress robes and fallen at the Yule Ball. Luna looked at him, a bit bewildered at what was funny, and the idea that Luna Lovegood of all people thought him a bit mad made him laugh even harder.

She held out her hand to help him up, and Harry's laughs subsided as he shook out his dress robes.

"Maybe we'd better go back in?" Harry said. Luna nodded.

But they'd barely made it to the entrance hall when they saw Neville and Ginny rushing toward them, frantic.

"Have you seen Hermione?" Neville asked hurriedly.

"No, what happened?" Harry asked.

"My idiot brother," Ginny fumed, and for once she didn't flush when she spoke directly to Harry.

"What'd he do?"

"He attacked Hermione," Neville said, disgusted. "We were halfway across the Great Hall and we could hear him screaming. All of this stuff about how she's fraternizing with the enemy."

"He was just jealous," Ginny chimed in. "If he wanted to go to the ball with Hermione, he should have just asked her."

"And she was having such a good time too," Neville interjected. "She and Krum were on the dance floor for ages."

"But then they took a break, and Hermione went to go talk to Ron, and he just went off," Ginny added.

"He brought you into it, too, if you can believe that—how Krum's only using her to get to you or so he can get her help working out the egg. How she should know better. It was really awful," Neville said furiously.

Harry felt the anger rising in him.

"Hermione stormed off before we could get over there, but Ginny used the bat-bogey hex on Ron," Neville said.

"You hexed you brother?" Luna asked.

"Well, he deserved it," Ginny retorted, and then waved it off, adding, "Besides, I do it all the time at home."

Harry had never seen Ginny hex anyone at the Burrow, but Ron had always said that Ginny was a completely different person when Harry was around.

"But now we can't find Hermione. She can't have gotten far," Neville added. "It just happened."

"Right," Harry nodded. "Why don't you two go check the girls' bathrooms, Neville, you can check the Great Hall and I'll take a look around here?"

They nodded and hurried off, and Harry turned and walked briskly back into the grotto. He was just passing the bench where Hagrid and Madame Maxime had been sitting when he spotted a girl in blue dress robes on the other side of the fountain.

He'd expected her to be crying, but as he approached her, he saw her eyes were dry and cold, her chin raised defiantly, arms crossed over her chest.

Harry sat down slowly beside her, his hands flat on his knees, their upper arms slightly brushing.

"He's a prat," Harry said.

Hermione sniffed. "So you've heard then? I suppose the whole school has," she said angrily.

"I don't know about that," Harry said, thinking she was probably right, but not wanting to make it worse for her. "Neville told me what happened."

Hermione swiveled on the carved bench and turned to face Harry. "I never told him a single thing about the egg, Harry," she swore. "And we never talked about you at all, except for Viktor commenting that you're very good at flying."

Harry looked at her incredulously. "Hermione, I know that you would never tell him anything," he said. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

She smiled at him, relief evident on her face—but that bothered him a bit.

"Hermione, you didn't actually believe I'd think you were helping Krum, did you? After everything you've done for me?"

"Well, no," Hermione said, looking down. "Not really. It's just—Ron can get under my skin I suppose. And to think, he of all people was lecturing me on loyalty to you."

"I told you," Harry said. "He's a prat."

She let out a disbelieving laugh, and he was thoroughly confused. Seeing the look on his face, she elaborated for him. "I never thought I'd see the day when you were choosing my side over his," she said.

"What's that mean?"

"Oh, I know you've always been my friend, Harry," she said, waving her hand around to emphasize her point. "But you two always took each other's side."

Harry didn't think this assessment was particularly fair. Ron and Hermione fought a lot, and most of the time, he took the neutral option, figuring it would just run its course. The only time he'd ever really gotten mad at Hermione was last year over the Firebolt—and Ron was mad at her for a completely different reason: Crookshanks. And, Harry had tried to get Ron to lay off of her.

Though, when he thought about it, there's no way she could have known that he'd done that, so he supposed if he looked at it from her point of view, it did seem like he'd taken Ron's side entirely.

And, they had frozen her out for weeks. And thinking about it now, after everything she'd done for him since then, after she stood by him when almost no one else had, making such a big deal over a broomstick seemed a bit childish.

And then he looked at her sad brown eyes and felt that maybe it wasn't so important to argue with her about what he did or didn't do in the past, it wasn't important to be right in this moment. Regardless of any of that, she had been hurt—and he hadn't exactly behaved perfectly.

"I guess I can be a bit of a prat sometimes, too," he said.

She looked at him questioningly, and then smiled, bumping her shoulder playfully into his. "You're all right most of the time," she said teasingly.

"I'm sorry Ron ruined your night."

"Well, he didn't improve the night, that's for sure," Hermione said stiffly. "Though I can't say he completely ruined it."

Harry looked at her curiously.

She blushed. "Well, Viktor's very nice, but I think perhaps we're better as friends."

"Really?"

"Everything seemed great at dinner when other people were around, but the longer we danced and talked, just us… We've never held a conversation for as long as tonight. And… there just wasn't anything there," Hermione said, shrugging.

"So you've had an awful time tonight?" he asked. He knew how excited she had been about this ball.

She looked at him contemplatively. "Not awful, no," she said. "Viktor's been a perfectly pleasant companion. He's different than you would think he is, coming from Durmstrang and all. He really is sweet, and I think he could be a good friend. And I did enjoy the dancing. But, I guess a part of me had just hoped…"

"Your first ball would be special?" Harry asked, remembering what she had said about Luna.

She smiled wistfully. "Yes," she said.

"But, this is all a bit of a fantasy, isn't it?" she added, gesturing down to her blue dress robes, and Harry had a fleeting thought that she looked a bit like Cinderella.

They sat in silence, watching the sparkling jets shoot up from the fountain in a dazzling display, an arrangement of colors and water fluidly moving around the pool in patterns that kept changing.

It was beautiful, he thought, as he felt Hermione relax a bit beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder. He glanced down and could see she was more content now—she was almost smiling, her eyes fixed on the show.

As he felt her rhythmic breaths, watching red, green and blue streams of water mix with jets of bubbles in the shape of silver stars and gold bells, he couldn't help but think that despite how good Luna had turned out as a date—he honestly liked being her friend—sitting here in the quiet with his best friend, away from all of the crowds and whispers, was the most fun he'd had all night.

But as the jets lowered and the fountain turned tranquil again, they could hear the music drift out from the castle. Hermione turned her head, her longing obvious in her expression.

He might prefer it out here, but she liked dancing.

"Come on," Harry said, standing up. "We can still salvage some of the ball. Let's go dance."

"You hate dancing," Hermione said doubtfully.

"You don't," he replied, shrugging.

She smiled at him, shy and hopeful at first and then it turned into a grin, and they walked back in side by side. As they entered the Great Hall, Hermione glanced around apprehensively.

"Ron's not here," he said.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "What'd you do?" she asked.

"Not me, Ginny," Harry informed her. "Used the bat-bogey hex on him."

She looked like she was warring between grinning and disapproving of such tactics, and settled for leading him onto the dance floor.

Harry saw Neville, Ginny and Luna across the room, and they all looked relieved to see him and Hermione. Luna said something that made Ginny and Neville laugh, and then Ginny launched into a story that had their rapt attention.

The Weird Sisters started up a new song, and Harry was thankful that it was a slow one. He and Hermione hadn't covered how you were supposed to dance to a fast one.

He took her hand in his and found that it felt familiar. She smiled as she put her hand on his shoulder.

While Harry knew intellectually that there were people dancing all around them, and others watching them and whispering, he focused on Hermione's hand in his, her warm brown eyes an anchor as he let all of his anxieties about looking stupid go, closing out everyone else; it was as if it were just the two of them. He didn't know if he'd ever like dancing, but seeing the delighted expression on her face, Harry thought that it was worth it.

Before he knew it, the people around him stopped moving—the song was over. She slid her hand off his shoulder, and he surprised himself when he asked her if she wanted another go.

She beamed at him, and they began to dance again.

He felt more comfortable this time around, and looked around a bit. When he saw that Lee Jordan and Cormac McLaggen were both holding their dance partners a little differently, he decided to experiment, sliding his hand further along her back.

Not having though this through, what this served to do was bring their bodies closer together. He could no longer see her eyes—as they were about the same height, they were now cheek to cheek, their faces almost touching—but he felt her cheek jut out a bit in a way that could only mean she was smiling, so she must be okay with the change.

Fred and Angelina passed by and Fred gave him a lascivious grin and a wink, causing Harry's face to feel hot and he wished very much that Hermione had her usual hair because it would surely hide his reaction.

When the song ended, she stepped back, beaming at him.

And then, suddenly, Viktor appeared by their side. Harry had rather forgotten about him.

"Hermione, here you are," he said. "I haff been looking for you."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said apologetically. "I got in this fight with Ron, and… and it's a long story."

"May I cut in?" Viktor asked, looking at Harry, his expression unreadable.

But before he could answer, Hermione said hastily, "Actually, let's go sit with my friends. I haven't seen them all night."

She started walking purposefully toward Luna, Ginny and Neville, who were seated at a table nearby. Clearly, she expected them to follow.

As they sat down, Neville passed Harry a gillywater.

"Thanks," Harry said.

"You look like you're having a better night," Ginny said to Hermione. But Hermione was gaping at Ginny.

"What happened to your dress?" she asked.

Harry frowned. Ginny was wearing dress robes in a deep purple color. He didn't think there was anything unusual about how she looked, except for the fact that her robes were really nice—a lot nicer than Ron's had been.

"Oh, that," Ginny said. "I really appreciated you making my old ones fit so well, but then I ran into Percy a few days ago—he was here making final arrangements for Mr. Crouch. And I told him about my dress robes and, well, he bought these for me. He sent them this morning as a Christmas present." She grinned.

Harry was surprised. Percy had always seemed a bit self-absorbed to him—though he did seem to have a soft spot for Ginny.

Ginny caught his look and rolled her eyes. "You've spent too much time with Ron and the twins, Harry," she said. "As it turns out, if you're actually nice to Percy and don't go around pranking and insulting him, he's a really good brother."

"That was really sweet of him," Hermione said.

Ginny shrugged. "Honestly, any of my brothers would have done it. Bill tried to get mum to let him help out with school supplies, but you know mum—too proud to accept help," she said. "Ron should've showed Bill that atrocity she bought for him before we left for Hogwarts—I told him to. There's no way Bill would've let that stand."

"Bill's the one who's a curse-breaker for Gringotts, right?" Neville asked, and Harry got the impression he was trying to turn the discussion away from Ron. He shot Neville a grateful smile.

Ginny nodded.

Viktor seemed interested in that, and asked Ginny a series of questions about Bill's job, and then Charlie's, and then told them all about his uncle who raised winged horses, which wasn't as exciting, but far more practical than dragons.

Harry could see what Hermione meant—Viktor was a lot more down to earth—and normal—than you might expect.

"Oh look, here comes Michael Corner," Luna said. And sure enough, a Ravenclaw boy Harry only sort of knew approached them and asked Ginny to dance. Ginny turned to Neville, who waved her on, and she grinned at him, accepting Michael's hand.

"She's been a good sport all night," Neville explained to them. "But I'm awful at dancing—better leave it to guys like Corner. I'd rather hang out with you all."

Harry told Hermione that Luna wanted to visit Dobby with them, and Hermione filled Luna and Viktor in about S.P.E.W.

Luna, it seems, was just as enthusiastic about S.P.E.W. as Hermione. "It'll be tough, though," Luna commented. "The Ministry won't want to loosen their hold on the house elves' power."

"What do you mean?" Neville asked.

"House elves can do almost everything we can, and they don't need wands to do it," Luna explained. "The Ministry won't want them getting too powerful."

Harry expected Hermione to be scoffing at this, thinking it was another one of Luna's crazy theories, but to his surprise, she was watching Luna thoughtfully.

And then Harry felt a sharp pull on his dress robes as he was tugged upwards.

"Up, you go," Fred said, as George pulled Hermione and Luna up as well. "Enough of being wallflowers."

"Are you Gryffindors or not?" George asked.

"Not," Luna replied.

George squinted at her appraisingly. "You're honorary tonight," he said, leading them back onto the dance floor, while Fred pulled Harry and Neville.

"You too, Krum!" Fred called over his shoulder. "I don't care if you're an international quidditch star; if you want to dance with a Gryffindor, you have to dance with all the Gryffindors!"

The song was a fast one. Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to do as Fred deposited him near Katie, Lee, Angelina and Alicia. But the Weasley twins seemed to be in a contest as to who could dance the most ridiculously, arms and legs flying everywhere—no matter how bad a dancer he was, there's no way he could look as mental as that. As Alicia swung her arm through Harry's and twirled him around, he caught Hermione's eye—Lee and Neville were doing the same to her—and she grinned. He hadn't seen her smiling so wide since the night Madam Pomfrey woke up the petrified students, and she'd run into the Great Hall screaming, "You solved it! You solved it!"

Later, as they all walked back up to Gryffindor Tower together (Michael Corner had asked Luna to walk back with him and his friends, something that seemed to please Ginny immensely—causing Corner to puff up with pride), Hermione turned to Harry and whispered quietly, "Tonight was really wonderful, wasn't it?"

And Harry felt inordinately pleased with himself—after everything she had done to help him time and time again, he had managed to help salvage her night after all.

Harry didn't see Ron again until he and the other fourth-year Gryffindor boys clambered back up the stairs and into their dorm a little after midnight. He had apparently gotten Ginny's hex to wear off and was seemingly asleep in bed.

Harry changed into his pajamas—Neville, Dean and Seamus did the same—but when Harry turned he saw Ron sitting up, eyeing him warily. Harry felt a surge of anger, but tamped it down.

"Never use me to try to hurt Hermione again," he warned Ron.

And then he shut the hangings on his four-poster bed, and as Ron's face disappeared from sight, swallowed by the darkness of the draperies, it felt very much like an ending.