Ginny's third year and Harry's fourth year.
Ginny Weasley has no idea what to make of Harry Potter.
Of course, she can now talk normally to him and be in the same vicinity without blushing like a tomato. And she wasn't as obsessed with him as she was before, though sometimes she would catch herself glancing at him.
Stop it, a voice of reason in her head that sounds annoyingly like Hermione. You know he'll only ever see you as a little sister. Besides, you've seen how he looks at Cho.
No, another voice said stubbornly, I still have a chance. Feelings change.
Your feelings should change, the voice of reason said snidely.
Ginny willed her mind to shut up.
Neville was sitting at the Gryffindor table, looking frightened, not unlike a mouse who had narrowly avoided being trampled.
"Hi, Neville," she said, sliding in the seat next to him. A couple of girls from the Ravenclaw table glided down the aisle, not bothering to hide their giggles as they passed Neville and Ginny.
Neville's face turned into a deep red, and his fork slipped out of his hand with a clatter. Ginny had half the mind to hex the girls right here right now, but what with all the teachers watching she merely flashed an indignant look at them.
"What happened?" she asked, reaching for a roll and buttering it.
Neville's face flushed in a darker shade of red, if that was possible. He reached for his goblet but missed by inches, knocking down a bottle of ketchup. "Promise you won't tell anyone?" he said shakily, eyes darting around to check if anyone was within earshot.
Ginny nodded and tried to look as trustworthy as possible.
"W-Well, you know the Yule Ball is coming," he said in a low voice, eyes wide and nervous, "an-and I asked some of the—" he gestured to the departing Ravenclaw girls and quickly averted his glance.
"Oh." Ginny didn't know what to make of that. "I'm guessing you weren't successful."
Neville picked up the knife and fork, only to have it slip from his fingers again and clatter to the floor. He ducked beneath the table to retrieve them.
Ginny felt a pang of pity. Of course, Neville would have trouble finding a partner, unlike some other people. Her glance slipped to the far end of the table, where three figures sat, cheerfully bantering.
Suddenly, a surge of panic rose in Ginny as she realized she haven't found a partner either. She turned to see Neville looking glumly at his plate and without thinking she said, "Neville let's go to the Yule Ball together."
He jerked his head up, surprise written clear across his face. "Wha— really?"
Ginny nodded quickly before she can regret her decisions. Neville's face broke into a grin, and then he positively beamed. "That's great!" He hurried out of his seat, knocking over his goblet in the process. "W-well, I'll see you then, Ginny!" Quickly he scampered away.
What have you done now, Ginny? The voice of reason said exasperatedly.
For the first time, Ginny agree with it.