Sorry the last chapters have been fillers, but it's a bit for anticipation and effect, although I'm not quite sure if it was that, or just superficial and boring. I've tried my best... Anyways, read on carefully.

Chapter 15

I had only briefly glimpsed the outside of the aged, marble palace before being whisked inside. On the red carpet leading in I tripped over my flat shoes, and only revolved to find camera's flashing at my stumble. I blushed and watched my feet; breathing heavily and silently chanting "left, right, left, right…"

Hermione and Ginny walked close behind me, waving and smiling to the cameras, which were held back by a velvet rope. I held my small clutch tightly to my side and gave a small smile as I walked up by myself. Without word Harry slipped to my left. Cameras started flashing dramatically fast as he offered me his arm.

I looked at him crossly, and accepted only after I decided that he was being a gentleman, although deep down I knew that not to be the truth. He was concerned for me, I could see it, and it made me hate him. I didn't want to embarrass him in front of this huge crowd by turning him down, but the fact that he was holding my arm out of pity made my stomach boil with rage.

He stopped and I stopped with him. I watched as he allowed himself to smile a little bit and wave, and I copied his actions.

He leaned to whisper in my ear. "If you don't let them know that you're happy, there will be a story about your depression in the paper the next day." He straightened up—his stature was much taller than mine—and smiled for a few minutes more before proceeding past the marble columns, yellowed with age. I stepped with him over the threshold into wide hallway.

Three chandeliers hung down and coatrooms were on either side. Boys my age were standing alert, waiting for a customer to come calling. Above the coatrooms were thousands of portraits, all the way up to the round ceiling, which had small baby cupids, scampering around of them. The portraits were talking to each other and gossiping, and I distinctly heard Harry's name mentioned several times.

As we walked down the aisle there was a familiar silence of admiration. I felt compelled to look towards the ground, but held my head high, as if I didn't require Harry's arm to not stumble; although in truth I did. I was so nervous that I was trembling, and I knew Harry could feel my fingers shaking. He gave them a tight squeeze before steering us into the double set of doors at the end of the hallway.

I almost let out a gasp at the grandness of it.

The ceiling seemed never ending, and the chandeliers that hung every five feet, seemed to be suspended from mid-air. Above us the night sky was twinkling and filled with activity, planets and stars and anything else that might be floating moved about. The walls were extremely old, and the stylish wallpaper, which seemed to have been there a long time, was enchanting. Although at some points it was peeling, it told a story on yellowed paper, its truthfulness not to be certain. The animated drawings moved in a pattern on each panel, moaning or crying or rejoicing something or another.

I heard George, Fred and Ginny from behind me, gasping and pointing unashamed. I was too afraid to look back at their reactions for fear of tripping. Harry appeared to take no offense to my gawking and allowed a smartly dressed house elf to lead us to the designated table for out party. We were separated into round tables dressed in smart silver ware and covers. We were seated up near the front of the room by a stage that I had not noticed until that point.

It was extravagant, and was lined with different types of sparkling stones. Once again, masterful drawings lined the bottom like the walls.

I sat down in a chair pulled out by a house elf, and tucked myself in. Harry sat to my right, and Hermione sat to my left. Beside her was Ron, then the rest of the Weasley clan excluding Mr. And Mrs. Weasley. All the adults had taken seats in the tables located on either side of us.

There was no press inside, so I found myself more at ease to know my every movement wasn't being watched. After our entrance, the place began to fill up quite quickly—more so than it already was! The vast amount of wizards and witches in the room made it hum with magical energy, and I found myself excited to be apart of it.

I met different people throughout the night, standing in Harry's shadow. One Gilderoy Lockhart seemed a little dazed by the elegance of the situation, and was continually asking people if they would require his autograph. Harry spoke quietly with men that appeared at least twenty years older than he, and I found myself wandering off.

After an hour of mingling and drinking the room seemed to be packed to full capacity, and everyone found someone to talk with, or to. I mainly hung along with Ginny, who was "Guy Scoping".

"I don't know…" she said frustrated through a plastic smile. "When I was with Harry, I felt great, but it was just… too high maintenance. I mean, it was great, but sometimes I got sick of all his problems. And besides, when we fought—which wasn't often mind you—he would retort with something like 'and who saved your life?' It was just to obligatory you know?" She waved to a handsome man who was easily ten years older.

"So you don't have anything for Harry?" I asked softly.

"I like him, but he's too brotherly you know?" she lowered her voice. "I've seen him naked."

I looked at her in shock and she giggled. "It was an accident of course. He was walking from the bathroom in a towel, and Kreacher appeared, insisted the towel was dirty, and ripped it off him. I was standing in the hallway waiting my turn for the bathroom, and didn't look away in time. In that moment I knew it would never happen. I've seen every one of my brothers in their underwear, or walking around in a towel, but not ever, have I seen one of them naked… except Ron. When we were little we played a lot more, and he liked to run around all willy-nilly. Anyways, that's not the point. If we ever got to," she coughed, "that point, the magic would be gone! He was too comfortable. And besides, everyone of my brother's adore him, and he's already so part of the family." She stuck her tongue out.

"I can't say I truly see the problem, but I won't object to your reasons," I said.

"So are you going to go out with him?" she asked bluntly.

I flushed furiously and looked towards the ground. "Probably not."

Ginny looked at me, her face in a pointed pout. "Why not?"

"He seems great. Really!" I objected as she caught me sneaking a peak at him across the room. "But honestly, I think its pity. I really do."

She sighed, but said nothing else. I watched her flounce herself through the cocktails, and we made our way to the table.

I sat down on the cushiony seat and waited, as the rest of the room seemed to do the same thing. There were some clinking of knives on wine glasses, and a few conversations died down into hushed one word answers before the room became so quiet one could hear a pin drop.

"Sonorus!" A voice came from the stage and I looked above the beautiful decorations to see a tidily man pointing a wand to his throat and pressing a bowler hat to his chest. He rolled from the balls of his fee to his heals before smiling at having everyone's attention. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Harry gripping his butter knife tightly.

"Ah, ahem, well my name is Cornelius Fudge, and on behalf of Rufus Scrimgeour I welcome to the first ever annual Light Evening Banquet; the 'light' part of course standing for us. Yes, yes," he nodded to the polite applause. "Now before I introduce tonight's MC, I'd like to ask for a moment of silence, for those who we lost to our cause." He lowered his wand to his side and bowed his head over his bowler hat.

Everyone at the table dropped their heads and I followed in suit. For two minutes we sat there in silence, and I kept my face staring downwards, where it ought to be. Finally Fudge made a little "ahem", and the room whispered back to life. I spared a glance at Harry, who's head remained facing the floor.

"Well, as I was saying, welcome! And I would like to introduce our master of ceremonies tonight, Travis Folley!" A man in red robes walked across the stage and there was another polite applause. Fudge nodded at him, and proceeded to the left, and disappeared behind curtains.

"Well, as has been announced, my name is Travis Folley, and I am at the moment training to be an Auror, and was lucky enough to be picked to entertain all you people tonight. I've been given strict rules, and I'm not allowed to perform any corny jokes, so I can't guarantee I'll be the evening's success." He paused as the room chuckled. "First thing on the agenda, is our honorable guest. Why don't all you witches and wizards out there put your hands together for Harry Potter!"

The applause thundered in my ears, and I found myself clapping in the midst of everyone in the room. Our table shone with pride as Harry gave a little wave and then blushed as it went on much to long for his liking.

"Well, well Mr. Potter, you like quite dashing this evening," the young man smiled at Harry's glare, welcoming it like a doormat. "Alright! Let's get on with the show then!" Travis smiled at those in the audience and made a few special speeches of our sponsors and what not before continuing on.

"And now, I'd like to introduce our very own, Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour!" The roof raised slightly as the thunderous applause reached the rafters. A man walked out onto the stage and gave a political smile. His tawny hair was streaked with gray… actually, it was almost vice-versa, and his eyebrows made like a curtain over his eyebrows. His robes were quite green and made you look first at the extravagant clothing, rather than at him.

"Good evening to you all!" he said politely. The clapping died down and he began to drone into a speech that I found quite dull. He spoke about past and good fortune, and began to mumble under his breath. He made analogies about life, and what it meant. At this point Hermione, who had been listening attentively beside me, leaned into my ear.

"This is all going to lead up to Harry's heroic efforts," she hissed. "You watch!"

I tried my best to pay attention, and after roughly twenty minutes, the Minister cleared his throat and began to pace.

"… and as I have been saying, life will give you sour melons—and a good share of good ones as well. The good and bad can symbolize people. The good being us, the bad being the non-existent. I would like to bring a special young man into this little story, one whom you have all grown to love, respect and admire." Hermione elbowed me feircly in the ribs and I turned to glare at her. Thinking she had only got my attention, and not caused me pain she pointed to the stage and mouthed, "I told you so."

"Harry James Potter is a boy we have watched evolve into a man throughout the past almost twenty years. That's right ladies and gentleman, this loving wizard turns twenty years old at the end of this month. And as a surprise Mr. Potter," he looked down lovingly at Harry from where he was standing, as if Harry was his grand-son, "we at the ministry would like to present you with an early birthday gift. Come up here please."

Harry rolled his eyes, his back facing Scrimgeour, and stood up slowly, emphasizing his movements. He strolled around casually to the stairs at the stage, as if going to refill his plate at a buffet, and made his way up the tiny flight to the Minister of Magic.

"Now Harry! Why so glum? It is almost your birthday after all!" Harry gave a weak smile and stood side by side with the Minister, almost a half a head taller.

"Now we at the ministry have given great thought to this Mr. Potter, and there have been many discussions on how I—that is to say we, could thank you for the great service you have done for the wizarding world." Harry said nothing, his face unreadable. "Throughout thick and thin, you have stuck to the truth and the life and we have stood behind you one hundred percent. We're proud to have you here tonight and I'm sure that were it not for your bravery and class, this event would not be taking place. I, Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic, award you, Harry Potter, savior to the wizarding world, The Order of Merlin: First Class!"

The room lit up and music started to play. The thunderous applause was ten times more than it had been when the Minister had took the stage, and increased as Harry sourly shook hands with the Minister. The Auror Travis Folley walked from back behind the curtains carrying a rather large gold plaque. He handed it to Harry and shook his hand with a large grin before stepping back and letting Harry to himself.

"Would you like to say a few words Harry?" asked Scrimgeour, handing his wand to Harry. I saw Harry was tempted to shake his head 'no' but watched in amazement as he nodded his head in a civil manner.

Harry cleared his throat and almost dropped the plaque. "Erm, wow, it's heavy," he started. The crowd laughed a little bit and Folley rushed up from the back again and withdrew it from Harry's hand. He stepped back with it and we waited for Harry to continue.

"Well, I've never been to one of these before, but I have a feeling I should start thanking people, so... erm... here it goes." He cleared his throat and looked upon the crowd with aged eyes. "First person I'd like to say something for is Professor Albus Dumbldore—the greatest wizard who ever lived." He paused for effect and the room took in a large breath. "When he died, a part of me died with him. He taught me lessons I could have never learned from anyone else, and told me to stand by what I think, and for what I believe in, which has had me called a maniac, actually, it had me called a crazy by some of the people who are sitting her tonight. I stuck true to what he told me, and now I'm still alive. I'm a Dumbledore's man, and always will be. I also want to express thanks to my friends, old and new, who have stood by me through all the crazy nightmares, articles, and… lets say midnight scavenger hunts. Erm... well, a few are dead, but I know they're watching me." He stopped for a moment, pondering how to phrase the next bit. "The only other person I want to say something about is Neville Longbottom. He could have been standing in my spot right now, as some of you very well know. He lost everything to this cause, like me but in a different way. Neville's parents were tortured to insanity, and unfortunately, he shared the same fate. He was stupidly brave, and died soon after it was over. Thanks Neville." He handed the wand back over to the Minister who came rushing over as Harry lowered it.

"Thank you Harry, we are all touched." As Harry climbed down off the stage, Scrimgeour launched into a speech I wasn't listening to. Harry had some tears scattered on his cheeks. He came and sat beside me, and didn't snap at me for gawking, but turned to face the stage.

§

After many more speeches and some more awards to members of the Order of the Phoenix, dinner was served. Plates were refilled constantly, and I was almost afraid of eating until I exploded… almost.

Hermione kept conversation going at the table, and everyone noticed Harry's seclusion from the discussion. He didn't speak other than to mumble a few thanks when people walked by, patting him on the shoulder in congratulations.

I was so full after the main course that I excused myself to the ladies room during desert, not really wanting anything laid in front of me.

There were gold plated walls in the washroom, and I found myself thinking it was much too stylish for a loo. After washing my hands I examined my face. Although the make-up covered the majority, I saw it to be wearing off a little, and the blue shadow of the scar was becoming darker. My face was flushed and my curls were slightly out of place, however, I had no food in my teeth, and seemed to have kept the messy though delicious gravy off my robes.

When I made my way back to the table, weaving through a section full of rich old ladies, I found myself to be the sight of some laughing.

"What's so funny?" I asked. George gave me a mocking grin.

"I don't know? Thirsty?" I took the drink from his hand, and expecting pumpkin juice took back a big gulp. It burned! I thought my throat was on fire and felt my eyes water. I stuck my head in-between my knees for a few moments before sitting upright again.

"What was that?" I growled. In my own ears my voice sounded angry, but the twins—and the rest of the table for that matter, seemed to take no offense.

"You're almost of age, and we decided that you should try Fire Whisky!"

I coughed into my napkin and turned to face Hermione, who's cheeks were flushed.

"Don't come crawling to me! I can't help you! You're so on your own!" she laughed and turned to Ron's shoulder.

I sighed, and then the music started.

"If everyone could please leave their seats, the tables are going to be moved, so stand along the side of these two walls unless you don't want to dance tonight!" joked our MC. We all stood up and strode across to the wall. I clutched my purse tightly to my side and held my breath as the suddenly cleared tables either disappeared, or were moved off to the side for those wanting to sit.

The dancing floor in the middle of the hall revealed to be a large, exquisite painting, which had been concealed by some charm. A wizard was in a violent duel to the death with another, their faces both blurred. Everyone clapped at the marvelous design except Harry.

As the classic music was turned up, Ginny pulled Bill onto the dance floor with her and proceeded to perform the steps to an upbeat waltz perfectly. I saw Bill smiling at his sisters' happiness and gladly watch from a table farthest from the dance floor. George and Fred were dancing rather energetically with two old ladies, who looked to be enjoying themselves rather too much. A line seemed to be forming for who was to dance with them next.

Harry was dancing with a girl about his girl with black hair and a super thin figure. She was dressed from head to toe in white and pink and reminded me a bit too much of a candle. They continued to dance as the fast song changed to a slow. I watched for ten more minutes, and almost went to relieve myself for fresh air when a tap on the shoulder made me turn swiftly.

"Would you like to dance?" asked a young boy uncertainly. He looked to be about eight, and had a big toothy smile and blonde locks. His mother was at the table behind me, obviously holding her breath on my answer.

"I would love to," I said grinning at him. At least I would get one dance out of the evening. I allowed him to place his little hand in mine and we danced to a slower song, my hands sitting on his petite shoulders, his on my waist. We danced to the slow song and a flash came from my left.

"It'll make a cute cover shot!" said a pointy nosed witch. She smiled what seemed to want to be legitimate before being hauled out by a mob of house elves.

The song ended, and I let go of his shoulders. "Thank you, I had a lovely time," I said.

"Me too!" he grinned and skipped off to his mother, no doubt to tell her how his dance was.

I was about to leave the floor when there was another tap on my shoulder. Hermione stood behind me.

"Dance!" she said loudly over the Weird Sister's scratchy tune.

"By myself?" I asked.

"With me! It's a fast one! C'mon!" she grabbed my arms and made me move until I thought my hips might fall off. We danced for a few minutes, and once again, a slow song came on.

"I'm going to sit down!" I yelled.

"No! Here," Hermione grabbed my hand and dragged me over to Bill, who had gone to sit down. "Dance!" she ordered. Bill nodded his head and took me out to the middle of the floor.

"Thanks," I said as quietly as one could with the music being blasted.

"No problem," he said back. I examined his face carefully. It had healed well over the short time, and I would have guessed he had been in a Quidditch accident, rather than mauled by a werewolf. We danced in silence, and as the song changed, Ginny pulled up beside us, on Harry's arm.

"Switch you?" she offered. Bill nodded his head and handed me off to Harry, who looked exhausted.

He placed his hands loosely on my waist, and mine landed on his shoulders. My face looked at his chin, so I made sure to be far enough back as not to collide.

"How are you?" I asked. The song was softer, and I didn't have to talk so loudly.

"I want to go home," he said truthfully. "It was a big ordeal over such a phony award. At some time I'm sure it meant something, but to me it doesn't."

I looked down and then up again. "Your speech was nice."

"Thanks," he replied looking down at me. I shivered.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"I don't know. I think I'm so hot, I'm freezing. It's like walking through soup in here." I tried to withdraw as he pulled me closer towards him, before giving in and placing my head on his shoulder. He clasped his arms a little tighter around my waist.

"Better?" He asked. I didn't reply, but nodded into his shoulder. We danced through the next three songs like that, although two of them were fast. I just put my head there, and a piece of a jigsaw puzzle came together. When I pulled from him I said I was going out into the front to get some air. He nodded his head and went the other direction and I headed towards the doors.