At breakfast the next morning, Vince, Greg and Draco discussed strategies for asking girls to the Yule Ball. Draco was of the mind that they should just grab the erumpent by the horn and ask them directly, but Greg was less inclined to do so. When they told Draco who they had intended to ask, Draco shook his head, "You're too late Vince, Yurika's already got a date."

Vince's shoulders sagged, "Shit. Who?"

Draco glowered, "Some Ravenclaw pleb. Michael Corner, I think. Have you got a back-up?"

Vince shrugged, "Tracey Davis, maybe?"

Draco nodded, "I think she's still available, although I'd be quick if I were you. Here's your chance now, mate."

Draco nodded to a tall blonde girl who walked passed them in the direction of the Entrance Hall. She was busy rummaging through her school bag and to Vince's relief she was on her own. He got to his feet so abruptly he knocked the Slytherin table back a few inches, causing the contents of several goblets to spill all over the table.

Draco patted him on the arm and urged him on, "Go! Before someone else beats you to it!"

Vince stumbled over his robes to chase after Tracey, his face set in a deep frown of determination. Greg watched him leave the Great Hall with mixed feelings, but he wasn't given much of an opportunity to linger on his inexplicable feelings of apprehension as Draco rounded on him next, "So, Zoe Accrington. When are you going to ask her?"

Greg grimaced, "I dunno. I don't see the point in asking, it's not like she'll say yes."

Draco looked incredulous, "Don't be such a wuss! You've got plenty to offer Greg – you're a big strapping bloke with a respectable name and a decent bit of money behind you, what woman could resist? Besides, what's the worst that could happen? She says no and we just tell everyone that she's riddled with scrofungulus."

Greg snorted into his pumpkin juice and Draco winked at him reassuringly, "If you're nervous about asking her directly, I have an idea of how you can do it more subtly."

Draco's eyes followed Zoe as she and a couple of friends left the Great Hall in the direction of their first class of the morning. He pulled Greg by the sleeve and dragged him along, whispering furiously his ingenious plan to secure him a date. They paused as they saw Zoe come to a stop outside of McGonagall's Transfiguration class, both boys lingering near the end of the corridor careful not to be seen. They were already late for Snape's Potions class, but Draco wasn't worried about the ramifications, he knew Snape would give him a pass. Draco pulled out his wand and turned to Greg, "Okay. You start walking passed all casual like, I'll tear her bag open, then you help her pick up her stuff and repeat what I told you to say. Got it?"

"Got it," grunted Greg, nervously flattening his robes.

"Remember to smile," Draco added. Greg grinned so broadly he looked as though he were in pain. Draco grimaced, "On second thoughts, drop the smile."

Greg's smile fell and he frowned. Draco gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, "You're going to nail this mate, and remember I've got your back. Off you go."

Greg let out a shaky sigh and took his first nervous step towards Zoe, his legs suddenly feeling like they were under the effects of a jelly-leg jinx. He was hyperaware of how awkward his arms and legs looked as he walked forward, trying and failing to walk casually and breathe at the same time, but he pushed himself in the direction of the pretty brunette he was going to ask to the Ball. As he approached, Zoe's bag miraculously tore open, spilling its contents all over the floor. She grimaced and bent over to pick up her things from the floor looking embarrassed.

Greg bent over and picked up a couple of her books, "Here, let me help you with that."

Zoe glanced up in surprise at Greg, then smiled broadly.

"Thanks," she breathed, gathering her parchment and make-up. "I don't know what happened there, stupid bag must have burst."

"No wonder with all these books weighing you down," said Greg. "It's Zoe, right? I'm Greg."

Zoe smiled nervously and put her hand out to shake his, "Yeah, you're the year above me I think. Nice to meet you, Greg."

Greg grinned broadly. This was going better than he could have hoped.

"It's nice to meet you too. Say, are going with anyone to the Yule Ball—"

Both of them made to stand up at the same time, but Greg sprung to his feet so quickly he headbutted Zoe in the face with the top of his head. Zoe cried out in pain and dropped her parchment and books, clutching her face as blood pooled from her nose. Greg stared in horror, "Shit! Sorry, I…are you alright?"

He reached out to Zoe but she took a step back from him, blood dripping down her robes. Her classmates turned and stared at him, others rushed forward to check Zoe was alright.

"Greg!" shouted Draco from down the corridor gaping at him. "What the hell!"

Greg looked between Zoe and Draco feeling increasingly panic-stricken, then he turned tail and ran in the opposite direction. He kept running all the way back to the Slytherin dungeons, not stopping until he burst into the boy's dormitory and flopped face down onto his bed, punching his pillows in anger and horror at his own social ineptitude. Merlin, why couldn't he do anything right?

"Greg?" asked a familiar voice. Greg looked up and saw Vince sitting on his bed looking at him curiously. "What are you doing here?"

Greg sank his head into his pillow again and groaned, "I asked Zoe Accrington to the Ball."

"How did it go?" asked Vince tentatively, although by Greg's reaction he could easily guess.

"Not great," he admitted burying his face deeper into the pillow with shame. "I headbutted her."

"What?" Vince bounced onto Greg's bed and shoved him on the shoulder. "What do you mean you headbutted her?"

"Not on purpose," he replied, his voice muffled as he spoke into the pillow. "I was helping her pick up stuff that she'd dropped on the ground, and as I stood up her face kind of crashed into my head...I don't know how it happened. Merlin, there was blood everywhere, it was horrible."

"What did you do?" asked Vince.

"I panicked," groaned Greg. "I ran. I just left her there."

Vince burst out laughing and Greg glared at him, "This isn't funny!"

"It's kind of funny," Vince argued, wiping a tear from his eye. "Christ, I thought my morning had been bad."

"Oh yeah, how did it go with Tracey?" asked Greg. Vince shook his head, looking morose again.

"Shit. She practically laughed in my face, said she couldn't believe that I ever thought I'd agree to go out with her."

Greg's eyes widened in disbelief, "No way. She said that?"

Vince nodded solemnly, "A simple no thank you would've sufficed. She didn't need to rub it in my face."

"At least you didn't bust up her face," said Greg sympathetically. Vince gave a weak laugh and lay back on Greg's bed staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. It felt like she punched me when she said that, though."

"Is that why you came back up here instead of going to Potions?" asked Greg. Vince nodded. He placed a reassuring hand on Vince's forearm, "Mate, she's not even worth sulking over. Just because she's too dumb to see how great you are, it's her loss."

Vince glanced at Greg, "You think so?"

Greg nodded, "I know so."

"Thanks," Vince gave a small smile and rested his hand on top of Greg's. Greg held his breath, watching Vince's hand intently as he began to unconsciously run his thumb across Greg's knuckles. It felt ticklish and warm, and it set off all sorts of alarm bells in his head. He wasn't entirely sure Vince realised what he was doing, but he was afraid that if he said anything that he would stop, and although he didn't know much else, he definitely knew he didn't want him to stop. After a few moments Vince's hand stilled but didn't move away. Greg stole a glance and felt his stomach do a backflip. Vince was looking right at him, his dark eyes fixed intently on his own. Greg licked his lips and his gaze fell to Vince's mouth, slightly open with a look of curiosity on his face.

He has nice lips, the thought rang through Greg's mind loud and clear, although he wasn't entirely sure where that strange thought had come from. Nice eyes, nice lips, and nice hands too, warm and soft to the touch.

Merlin, when had he started noticing these little things about his best friend? Greg was suddenly aware of how close they were to one another, he could feel Vince's hot breath against his face. He was so close their lips could almost touch, if he were just a little bit closer. Greg made a slight movement, letting his lips barely brush against Vince's cheek, but even this slight contact was almost too much for him, his body felt flushed with heat as shivers ran up his back. What was he doing?

Vince lowered his gaze and cleared his throat, "We better get to our next class."

His voice was low and hoarse, and to Greg's relief he didn't sound angry. Greg blinked and sat up quickly, his senses coming back to him in a fresh wave of panic and confusion. What the hell are you doing?

"Yeah, just give me a minute," he hurried into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him. He caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror, his cheeks were flushed and his normally hazel brown eyes were almost black his pupils were so dilated. He closed his eyes and took a few deep, steadying breaths, trying to compose himself before facing Vince again. A storm of conflicting emotions were brewing inside of him – he couldn't stop looking at Vince, couldn't stop thinking about him in ways he'd never consciously thought of him before. But he didn't want to think about what his feelings meant, they were scary to touch — even in the private recesses of his mind it felt like an exposed nerve that if he lingered upon, grazed it with any tangible thought, it would become too overwhelming for him to handle.

He took the frightening, exciting thoughts and feelings, mentally bunched them up into a little ball and pushed them into a box in the back of his mind. Feeling more composed now he stepped back into the bedroom and paused. Vince had left without him.