I have no words to apologize. Life's been a lot hectic, but I repeat, I will not give up. For those who are interested, I will post previews of the next chapters in my tumblr if it takes me long enough to update (consider this as probable).

Absolute thanks to adventuroussoul05, Lynn (thanks for reviewing twice!), AmyRoxx123, michi-nin and kamomille, for reviewing while I was away.

In other news, this story is about to have its second anniversary! I totally forgot the last year, but this time I'm celebrating at full throttle. Enjoy!

It was a cold evening of December when students from fourth year and above were called by each respective Head House. The sudden bulletin on the board in the Gryffindor common room wasn't taken positively, but the thought of facing Professor McGonagall's wrath later set everyone straight.

There were many that speculated we were in trouble. When I say many, I refer to almost the entire House, and by the accusing looks the trio and I received through the way, I'd bet that they believed we broke the rules – again. But no, because there was no possible way we got the entire school in trouble.

I was highly suspicious (no surprise there) when we entered the Transfiguration classroom and saw that all the desks had been piled neatly and were somehow glued from the walls up to the high ceiling. The chairs had been left untouched, but as soon as we got in, they were immediately snatched and a small fight broke for them. This resulted in two broken chairs, which the seventh years repaired hastily just as the door was flung open.

Argus Filch, the Caretaker of Hogwarts, came pushing in a giant, dusty Gramophone. I gave a wide berth at the size of it. The rest didn't seem as surprised as I did, except for a few Muggleborns and Harry.

"What do you think it's going on?" I whispered down to Hermione as she had managed to get a chair. The classroom was highly crowded, it was a miracle we all fit in.

She shook her head. "I'm not sure," Hermione said, equally confused and eying the Gramophone too.

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes. The door then flung open again, Professor McGonagall striding in. The classroom fell silent; Professor McGonagall paid no attention to us as she firstly spoke to Filch in quiet words. When she finished, she walked with a brisk pace to the middle of the room. Her mouth opened, but she stopped short as her eyes fell on the only two people who weren't paying her attention. Raising one thin eyebrow, watched as Harry and Ron fought with two small fake wands the Weasley twins had provided them with.

I was happy they were attempting to get the lost time back, but in that moment, I seriously wished to knock their heads together and see if they cracked and could get a hint. Wasn't the ominous silence enough of a hint to now they were in trouble, or were they waiting for Voldemort himself to jump from the ceiling?

No. It looked more probable Snape would be jumping from the shadows, his cape floating dramatically behind him like always.

At this point, Professor McGonagall was already standing behind them, silent and glowering. Everyone waited with bated breath, anxiously, and then –

"Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention?" she barked. It was like being hit with a whip, and everyone in range recoiled. Ron was suddenly holding a thin parrot, all plucked, and Harry a long, wide-eyed fish made of rubber.

Professor McGonagall held out her hand, and silently, the boys gave up their new 'toys'.

"Well," said McGonagall, holding the parrot and the haddock in one hand, "now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age, I have something of great importance to say to you all."

I crossed my arms and leaned back on the wall as she began to talk about the Yule Ball, a traditional part of the tournament used as a mean of interaction between the schools.

"... the Yule Ball is first and foremost, a dance."

My head, which had been lolling to the side in boredom, snapped right over the teacher. Dismayed, I could not help noticing that a slight smile was playing on her lips.

"A dance," repeated Marie after I finished telling her about the Yule Ball. She sounded surprised and amused, an amazing feat by itself. Of course she would be entertained by it. She wasn't the one who had to go through it at all.

When she noticed me glowering, she shrugged. "What? You can't deny the irony isn't lost on you."

She was right. I wasn't unfamiliar with the term, and I certainly wasn't happy to hear about a dance, specially not at Hogwarts

St. Louise's, despite being an orphanage, never lost its charm because of the parties the owner often threw in hopes that girls could interact with outsiders, where the real world was. That was what one of the orphanage's assistants told me before she was fired. Through all my stay, she proved me wrong – Mrs. Darcy did nothing but swiftly rob the snobs of society that often came around.

I hated that sort of events but a small part of me always wanted to know what it was like to attend one as a person rather than a servant. Marie's empathy clearly gave her the advantage of knowing about this; I'd rather be caught dead first than admitting it to anyone.

I stopped rummaging through my trunk. Letting out a groan, I dropped my head down in defeat.

"This is unbelievable," I mumbled.

Marie hummed. "I know. What made you think a dress would suddenly pop out of there?"

"We come to a school of magic and reside in it," I said dryly. "Forgive me for thinking one would appear out of thin air."

"Why don't ask Miss Rosenberg for one?"

I mocked her silently before I leaned on my trunk again. "I dunno, it's just – it's like admitting defeat. I don't want to go, really, but -"

"- you want to go," Marie finished triumphantly. I sighed in defeat.

"Yeah." My logic was completely skewed, I was sure by that point. "But like I said, I don't know why I am bothering. I'm not going, period."

It was like a switch had turned on; Marie's good mood dropped, and her face twisted in disbelief.

"What do you mean you are not going?" she demanded. "Of course you are!"

I raised my eyebrows at her. "Really? Says who?"

"Every damn fairy tale story!"

I stopped short. I turned around to face her. Marie's pale face was bright red.

"You're pulling my leg," I told her.

I looked up from my book as another group of giggling girls walked past me. They stopped short though, when they saw a handsome boy – Ravenclaw, if he was wearing the right scarf – and pointed at him with sly smiles. One the girls boldly approached him and tapped his shoulder.

I watched closely. The boy seemed flustered by her, and she seemed to be smiling and twirling one of her curly locks, the sly glint on her eye making me wonder if she was from Slytherin. She said something to him that left him tumbling like a blubbering idiot. The boy was also nodding furiously, a silly smile forming on his face.

"Blimey," I whispered but quickly turned to look down at my journal as one of the girls turned.

"What are you doing?" I heard James say as he towered over me.

I snorted. "What does it look like? I'm reading. Go away."

Like always, he disregarded me and instead, sat down.

"It's not difficult, you know. You just have to walk up to them and ask. It's not like they bite or something."

No, but it makes you look like a besotted moron, I thought glumly.

"I don't know what you are going about," I said instead.

"You were staring at them." I didn't need to look to know he was pointing at the girls.

"No, I wasn't. I'm reading."

"Really?" his voice was laced with amusement. "I didn't know you were able to decipher drawings by staring at them. Or that you could read books upside down for that matter."

Embarrassed, I snapped my journal shut.

"Well, what if I was?" I demanded hotly.

James raised his hands in a placating way it made me grit my teeth.

"Easy there. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it. It's just surprising, that's all."

When he caught my look, he explained, "You aren't the type of girl who's into in gossip and boys. To see you interested... well, like I said, I didn't see it coming."

"I'm a girl," I said, meekly. "It had to happen – eventually."

"Oh, believe me, everyone has noticed you are one," said James.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He took one long look at me, and sighed, turning his head up to stare at the ceiling.

"I don't believe it," he muttered in clear exasperation. "You really haven't noticed?" he demanded.

I shook my head, confused. James ran a hand down his face.

"This kind of reminds me of those American sitcoms, you know," I told him casually. We both were looking at the group of giggling girls once more. "The girl has issues, she goes through a whole ordeal while dealing with popularity, she finally gets the boy in the end..." I tilted my head sadly. "Disappointing, if you ask me."

"That everything goes right in the end?"

"No. That they think the world will always run that way. No one gets a happy ending – it think it's only satisfying for some."

James whistled. "That's one way to look at it. I didn't know you were a pessimist."

"It's called being realistic," I said firmly. "It tend to rub off on you for a while."

"Whatever you say, Barton." He kept staring at the girls. He pointed at the one who I was watching from the beginning. "See that girl? That's Lacey Buchannan. She goes to Beauxbatons. She's also a bit of a bitch." He chuckled at my snort. "Girls like her – try to avoid being one. It's much more better when you are yourself. And believe t or not, I quite like your personality."

"Vote for Feminism rights," I nodded approvingly.

"Not to forget the sarcasm!" he added.

"I didn't think you were that kind of guy."

I unconsciously smiled at him. "You just don't back down," I said in awe. "You are like a box, full of surprises." Hopefully, he won't end up to be a Pandora Box.

"Only for you," he winked.

"Shut up," I mumbled, hiding my grin unsuccessfully.

"Where are your friends?"

"You just ask that now?" I gaped.

"Blame me."

"I don't know. No one's been on their regular spots since the Yule Ball announce came out."

"Yes, I have seen Granger trying to avoid the library these days."

"That's like saying Snape's going to start dancing the Macarena in the Great Hall," I joked. "Seriously though? Hermione, avoiding the library? Are we talking about the same girl?"

"I can't blame her. Viktor's spending most of his time in there, so you can already imagine how packed it is. Besides, if I remember, she was still with that spew thing, isn't she?" He leaned back slightly, careful to not fall from the ledge.

"S.P.E.W." I corrected him. "She's been drilling that in my head for days. Because of her, I can't go to the kitchens anymore! She tried speaking to them about rights – you should have seen their faces -"

"You poor soul," James said and I couldn't tell if he was mocking me or really felt sorry. "Anyway, coming back to the subject." He clapped his hands together. "You ready, then?"

It seemed I could only speak to him in questions. "For what?" I asked warily.

"To ask Potter, of course."

I puffed put my cheek, rolling my eyes in exasperation.

"You're not going to drill me the fairytale crap too, are you? I already said it. I. Don't. Like. Harry. He's my friend, I care for him. I look out for him, just that! And I'm certainly not going to ask him to the Yule Ball."

James blinked. "Huh." There was a moment of silence. "Seems you are the one full of surprises today."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't even want to know."

"Don't worry," he clapped a hand on my shoulder and rubbed it in comfort. "You will find out – I'm hoping."

He hopped down and offered his hand to me.

"Come on." He gestured with his head at the corridor. "If you aren't going to ask, at least have the decency to laugh at those unlucky bastards for trying to follow up the teenage dream."

I snorted a laugh. I didn't hesitate to take his hand.

When we rounded the corner, James said, "Did you hear your Headmaster booked in the Weird Sisters?"

"Yeah. Among the same lines as barrels of mead. He's not that mad to buy them, you know..."

James was the first to learn the words 'Yule Ball' and 'Harry Potter' were not to be mixed while I was on hearing range. He stopped nagging me about it practically after the third time I looked at him like I would murder him on his sleep – my imagination wasn't that far from that scenario. Then again, he just couldn't give up; our conversation always lead to the Yule Ball in one way or another. Despite he kept trying to cheer me, he utterly failed at it. James was completely horrible if he tried to, but somehow, he unconsciously managed his goal if he didn't try to.

(It was very confusing, now that I think of it.)

The entire castle was in complete chaos. Girls followed boys, boys followed girls – it was like an endless circle, always going on and on, to the point in which you either gave up or succumbed to self-harm. Desperate measures for desperate times, indeed.

The phrase 'all's fair in love and war' took a new meaning for all the students. Their greatest assets were their looks and charms – the rights words led to success, I found out.

James was among those, but instead, he tried to subtly turn the girls' attention away from him. It was a hard task, seeing as they were attracted to him like moths were to shiny lamps. If I ever thought he had stalkerish manners, it certainly wasn't compared to the lengths girls took to catch his attention and of other boys.

There was a morning in which I saw five tents, each of them covered by thick now, resting on the Black Lake's shores, just across the Durmstrang ship. I later discovered they were Viktor Krum's fans. If that wasn't extreme I didn't know what could top it.

The only method which I considered the most ingenious were instant messages that arrived all of a sudden. The little origami figurines were very cute and funny, and more when they took James by surprise.

When I asked him if he was going to accept one of them, James said, "I already got someone in mind," and left it at that.

Of course, he wasn't the only one being hounded. Despite their efforts – not that it seemed they were hardly trying – Harry, Ron, and Neville, got shunned by girls. I didn't expect it, but considering that Ron's idea was catch his date with a lasso, well, let's just say it would be a miracle if they got any girlfriends before their thirties.

But then Harry was asked three times; the first by a Hufflepuff, the next time by a second girl, and the last by a fifth year girl, taller than Harry and looking like she could knock him out if he declined her offer. Fortunately for wonder boy, that did not happen.

"She was quite good looking," said Ron fairly.

"She was a foot taller than me," Harry shuddered. "Imagine what I'd look like trying to dance with her."

I stared at him for a long time. My cheeks flushed when Ron caught me looking but he didn't say anything more than just smirk in triumph. I was starting to believe I was surrounded by weird people at this point.

I kept watching when students asked others to the Yule Ball. Sometimes, it was downright hilarious; other times, it was just plain disastrous, and there was this moment which turned out to be the scariest – in all honestly, all of them were scary, because no matter what, someone always ended up giggling.

When I was asked the first time, I was too shocked for the words to fully register in my head. It had been Poliakoff – the boy Karkaroff had snapped at outside the Great Hall when he was pampering Viktor Krum. I ha flat out refused, and before I could even apologize, he already had ran. Disappointment didn't even start to explain what I felt in that moment.

Perhaps that was the reason the dam broke, setting off what looked like a chain reaction. By the next days I was suddenly being asked byeveryone, no matter what age they were. I was being stalked from each corner of the castle, and when I found out the reason why, I swear, another piece of my heart broke.

Millie, the portrait of a little blond girl and the only one I was comfortable to talk to, filled me in on what was going on at the castle. Apparently, there was a bet going on in which was established that the first boy who managed to convince me to go with to the Yule Ball would win twenty galleons – that had been the original amount, as days went by, it kept rising with each single offer I declined. I heard if someone finally got the "Ice Queen of Gryffindor" as a date, it would be written down in history.

With that said, I didn't feel any guilt afterward to reject whoever dared to ask. Among those, Justin Finch-Fletchey was the second person whom I didn't at all consider. The boy himself was a snob – and I still couldn't forget the way he treated Harry back in second year. He was later badmouthing me to his friends. James, being the considerate being he was, convinced the Weasley twins to prank the Hufflepuff. How, I didn't know, but it was comforting to see someone else getting angry on my behalf – sort of sweet. And it was much more enjoyable when Justin entered the Great Hall covered in green and pink colors.

But of all this, I suppose the most interesting thing to happen was when Theodore Nott asked me. He was a boy from Slytherin and I only knew him from the few times I'd been forced to work with him on Potions. He wasn't bad, unlike Malfoy or Parkinson. Polite would be the right word to describe him; another would be 'imperceptible'. Like a true Slytherin (without counting Death Eaters), he was sly and calculating.

I once read flowers were the right way to get a girl's heart. Theodore must have thought so too because he created a path of single flowers for me to follow, all of them from different colors and scents – they had been probably charmed – until I was led to the library. I'd found him waiting for me in the farthest corner, holding a white rose. And he asked.

It was the first time my resolve wavered.

"I don't know what to say," I whispered, feeling thoroughly confused as I held the rose to my nose. It smelled like peach nectar and freesia.

"You don't have to answer right now," he said nervously. "I can wait until tomorrow."

It was already tomorrow. And I still didn't have a damn answer.

It was quite ridiculous the way I tried to hide from him through all day, trying to keep out of sight by using Neville as a shield. It got more awkward when I spotted Nott talking to his friends and made a run for it before I could enter the Great Hall. I ran as fast as I could.

I was panting by the time I arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Feh – feh – fairy lights!" I gasped.

The Fat Lady waved her fan to her face, her nose wrinkling as she looked down at me.

"You should take a shower," she complained, the door swinging open loudly. I scowled but I couldn't help but smell my hair. I grimaced.

"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," I heard one of the Weasley twins say sarcastically as I walked inside the common room.

"Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat," said the other.

"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" Ron demanded..

"Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you too," said Fred – or George, I never got that right –, waving his wand threateningly. "So… you lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"No," the boys said gloomily.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," said Fred.

"Who're you going with, then?" said Ron, annoyed.

"Angelina," said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.

"Oh, have you already asked her, then?" I said, making myself known. Thoughtfully, Fred raised his hand to his chin.

"Good point," said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina Johnson, a pretty dark skinned girl whom I knew played on the Quidditch team of Gryffindor, looked up in surprise. Her friend, Alicia Spinnet, did the same. Both of them seemed annoyed at being interrupted.

"What?"

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

I raised my eyebrows at his overconfident personality. Without my noticing, I found myself looking at George. The red-headed twin, for some reason, looked bleak.

"Alright then," said Angelina, and turned to talk to Alicia, grinning. I crossed my arms.

Fred clapped his hands together. "There you go. Piece of cake," he told Harry and Ron. He got to his feet, yawning, and said, "We'd better use a school owl then, George, come on…"

I watched in silence as they climbed the stairs.

"We should get a move on, you know… ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."

I snapped back to stare at Ron.

"Excuse you?" I said, and cringed. I sounded a tad more offended than I felt.

"A pair of what?" said Hermione in disbelief.

"Well – you know," said Ron, shrugging. "I'd rather go alone than with – with Eloise Midgen, say."

I shook my head, an incredulous smile forming on my lips. "Wait a minute – the acne in her face disappeared long ago, and she's actually nice, compared to all the rest of – say Beauxbatons!"

"Well, the Beauxbatons girls don't have their noses off-center," he said, sagely. As if that explained it all.

I let out a sigh. Gritted my teeth. "Unbelievable."

Hermione closed her book with a loud snap. "Oh, I see," she sneered. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

"Er – that's about right."

I stared at Ron. Even I couldn't believe the redhead's cheek.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione threw her book on the table and swept off to the girls' dormitories without another word.

I grabbed her book, tightening my hold on it, and gave Ron one swift blow to the head.

"Blimey Anne!"

"It's this or hexing you! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

I didn't see Theodore for the rest of the day, and it wasn't until tomorrow morning in Potions' class that I saw him. Before Neville could, he sat down on the stool across from me. Turning red, Neville went to Hermione's table.

I flushed when he smiled at me.

"Hey."

"Hi, erm... hi?" I sighed out. "Theodore, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"Hide from me?" he finished. I winced.

"Was I really that obvious?" He nodded. "Right, yeah. Okay, this is embarrassing." We ducked down as Snape swept by our table. I continued. "It's just, don't take it wrong, but you are actually the first boy I've considered going with and -"

"It's scary?" he guessed.

"Kind of," I admitted.

"It's all right," he said.

I shook my head. "No, it's not. You look like a great guy, and I swear it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you are a Slytherin, but I really can't go with you. It's complicated... doesn't feel right."

He let out a sad smile. "I know. Blaise did tell me, after all. Someone else has already won your heart over."

"What?"

"Look, it's all right. Really, I promise. Just do me a favor? Ask that bloke out... I think you'll make him more happier than you believe." He began to work on the antidote.

I thought about Harry, and the conversation he and Ron had this morning about asking girls to the ball. I instantly had known it would be Cho Chang.

"I doubt it," I grumbled.

History was our last class of the day. When the bell rang, Harry was the first to step out of the classroom

"I'll meet you at dinner," he said to us and dashed off upstairs.

"Right, I'll see you two later," Ron said, and in the same way as Harry, he ran away.

"I'm going to the library," Hermione said. She also left before I could say something.

I was left alone in the corridor. I sighed.

"Nice one, guys," I muttered, nodding, and shouldered my bag.

As I started to the Great Hall, I felt someone fall in step with me.

"Why so alone?" said Marie.

"Shouldn't you've been in class?" I muttered. I didn't want to deal with her, not now.

She waved her hand. "It's Charms." I could see why she wasn't bothering. Professor Flitwick had given up teaching when he realized no one was paying him attention and just charmed things to keep himself entertained.

"Why are you wearing that face? You look pitiful."

"I think I just turned down one of the nicest guys at Hogwarts," I admitted in shame.

"I wouldn't worry about that."

I stopped walking and turned around to look. Standing next to Marie was a slender girl with dirty blonde hair held up in a messy bun. I took a step back when I saw her wand protruding from behind her ear, the tip pointing at my face, but what caught my attention was her eyes. They were a pale blue and protuberant, giving her a permanent look of surprise. Her eyebrows practically were non-existent.

She also hadn't blinked since she spoke.

Noticing my raised eyebrows, Marie cleared her throat.

"This is Luna Lovegood. She's from my House. She's also my friend."

I noticed how she made emphasis on the 'friend' word. Scratching my head, I smiled awkwardly.

"Hi. I'm Anya Barton."

"I know." The girl didn't seem to care. In fact, she looked like she was daydreaming or something. I wished I had the same luxury as her.

"Right."

"You were saying about a guy..."

"Yeah, Nott from Slytherin. I just turned him down."

"Oh," Marie blinked. "Really? I actually liked him."

I gaped at her before throwing my hands in the air, defeated. "Ugh!" I kicked at the ground and started walking away from the Ravenclaw girls. From all the people to tell me that, it was just the tip of the iceberg. "Brilliant Barton, just brilliant! There went your chance to do something normal with someone that wasn't an asshole. Boys can go to hell, for all I care! It's not like I have to go, this is plain ridiculous -"

"Hello Annie."

"- I really don't see what the fuss is -"

"Um, Annie - ?"

"James was right, which makes this even more ridiculous - it's like one of those drama shows about antsy teenagers where they all fret for their social lives -"

"Annie -"

"- I just don't understand -"

"Anya Barton, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

My head snapped around so quickly I feared I'd cracked my neck. It didn't happen but I still reached to knead gently on the skin. Shocked, I stared up at Neville - when did he grow so tall? - but his determination didn't falter, if not, it seemed he was rooted firmly on the ground. I didn't tear my gaze away from him, and he didn't move until I spoke.

"What?"

Or something like that.

Internally, I grimaced at the high pitch my voice took. Outwardly, I probably looked like a gaping idiot. Then again, it was so rare when someone really took me by surprise; I could count all of those with one hand. And second, this was Neville who was asking. Shy, awkward Neville, who was looking down at me with such a willpower, which made me wonder what I'd done to deserve the privilege.

It was my voice that shook him back to normal, and suddenly, old Neville was back; his face turned red and his eyes went down to his shoes, as if they were the most interesting from all over the world.

He avoided my gaze as he started to stutter.

"I said – if – if you wanted to go with me… not that you have to! We could go as friends – or maybe we shouldn't go at all –"

"Yeah," the word was out of my mouth before I even considered it. Neville blinked and I followed suit, him in wonder, and I, in shock. It seemed to be all I could do at the moment. But, why I still had doubts? It was Neville, for God's sake, and that alone was enough for me to accept myslip of the tongue.

"Ye – yes?" Neville repeated incredulously,

I chuckled, nodding slowly. "Yes, Neville. I'll go with you to the Yule Ball."

"But – didn't you just –"

I shook my head.

"Forget about it," I waved it off, "it just got to me, that's all. I didn't think it would be this overwhelming."

A shadow crossed over his face. "Yes, I've heard," he said grimly. Without thinking, my eyes fell on the hand holding his bag. Finding nothing, I glanced at the other, and stopped short. I felt my eyes widen for a fraction but I said nothing, and did more than just keep smiling at him. I could barely restrain from throwing myself over him when I noticed how swollen his fingers looked, my hand itching to unwrap the bandage hidden by the sleeve of his robes.

Yesterday, Lee Jordan told the common room about how someone had beaten Marcus Flint (the idiot flunked), the Slytherin having to stay in the Hospital Wing all day so Madam Pomfrey could fix his face. Apart from him, the Weasley twins were witnesses to the fight and nodded grimly when asked. They never revealed who the culprit was nor the reason, though Lee seemed he was going to burst if he didn't tell it sooner. The only clue the twins gave was that it'd been someone from our own House. But who would have thought that person was Neville?

It wasn't that I was bothered. Flint was one of the main people who created the bet about the Yule Ball and me and I believe he didn't get enough punishment. But as much as I tried picturing Neville beating the burly Slytherin to a pulp, the more unbelievable it turned.

I linked my arm around his, deciding to not dwell on it. Appearances were deceiving after all, and was not I the perfect example?

Our journey to the Great Hall was pretty uneventful until we were standing outside. A figure had almost pushed me to the ground, had I not held on the familiar burgundy coat of James. Disgruntled, I righted myself and watched as the Durmstrang boy fretted over Neville.

"Yeah yeah, sorry about that," he said, not sounding sorry nor interested. His focus wasn't even on Neville, though his next words were directed at him. "Have you see her?"

"See who?" I asked but got no response.

Neville eyed him from head to toes, sounding suspicious as he said, "Where have you been?"

"I had a slight issue," said James. He tried to pat his hair, which I noticed, looked like a bird's nest. Even Harry's was more tamed than that. "Merlin, I can barely focus -"

"You still haven't asked her then?" said Neville, looking quite surprised.

"Does it look like I'm on the right state, mate?" James snapped, swaying. Neville and I jumped to his aid when he nearly fell over, holding onto his sleeves.

"I'd joke about it right now but you're worrying me." I grunted when he let his weight fall on me. "What the hell do you do when we aren't around?"

"Stuff," he slurred. "Neville - where is she, I haven't got time -"

"I see her," he interrupted him. "She's sitting next to Lisa Kennedy, but I don't think you should -"

He hadn't finished when James went shuffling away from us, shouting a small, "Thanks mate!" He got lost in the sea of hooting Gryffindors.

"Okay," I said slowly, "that was plain weird."

Neville nodded, looking concerned.

"So, who's he asking?"

"Ginny."

"Ginny?" I repeated blankly, "Ginny Weasley?" My gaze traveled over to the twins' corner of the table. Was he mad? As much as Ginny was a good catch, she also had a total of six brothers, two of which were pranksters, one who dealt with dragons, and other who worked as a Curse Breaker. Any sane bloke would have gone running up the hills, and if they dared, they first had convince Ginny, who was able to cast one hell of a Bat-Boogey hex. "He's a dead man."

Neville made a sound that was a mix of agreement and concern.

"Hello," said Hermione as she stopped between us. I turned to say hi, but stopped short at the silly grin she wore. I narrowed my eyes.

"What's gotten into you?" I asked suspiciously. Hermione shook her head, amused, the grin never fading.

"Oh, nothing," she said cheerfully. I raised an eyebrow and nodded. I purposefully turned in feigned disinterest.

"Alright."

It didn't take her long to snap.

"IwasjustaskedtotheYuleBallbyViktorKrum," she burst out.

I blinked. "Say again?"

Hermione's grin widened, making me notice how pearly her teeth looked. "Viktor Krum is my date for the Yule Ball."

I shook my head. "No," and then I let it sink, "Nooo! Really?" I laughed, "Who would've thought!"

"Congratulations Hermione!" said Neville.

She beamed at us.

There was a loud whoop coming from the Great Hall and James came out running from the crowd that had formed around him and Ginny, grinning madly.

"She said yes," he gushed.

"We can see that," Neville humored him.

"I'm going to the Yule Ball with Ginevra Weasley."

"Congrats mate," I snorted.

"Ginny's going with me!"

"Okay, you're creeping me out. Stop before Ginny rethinks of her answer," I told him. "What happened to you though? You look like you were mauled by the Bloody Baron!"

James sobered, his smile completely gone as he stared over my head.

"Something I didn't expect, that's all," he said. At Neville's worried glance, he said, "Really, I got it covered. Don't worry, okay?" He slapped Neville's shoulder and was gone.

I stared after him. "No, that wasn't creepy, not at all." It felt like there was something more on this than he let on. The feeling didn't dissipate until I was away from the Great Hall, on my way to the Gryffindor common room, when I suddenly heard a very familiar voice screaming:

"Fleur Delacour, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?!"

I stopped short when I recognized the voice, and took a different path to see what was going. When I rounded the corner, I saw a familiar lanky figure standing in the middle of the corridor, and approached him cautiously. I was trying to find the reason why he screamed like a madman, when I saw Fleur Delacour standing next to Cedric Diggory, the two champions looking back to Ron with different expressions, the former in contempt, the latter seeming that he could hardly hold his laughter.

"Oh Ron, you didn't." I quickly walked towards him and pulled at his sleeve, hissing frantically, "Move Ron!" Turning to Delacour and Diggory, I said, "I'm so sorry for this, really. He isn't usually this creepy, I swear. It must be something he ate." Shrugging at my lame excuse, I dragged Ron away. I peeked at him from time to time; he was still frozen, his eyes looking glossy and his mouth hung open, his last words appearing to be repeating silently in his head.

The only time he showed any sign of life was when we reached the bottom of the moving stairs, saying in a thread of breath, "What did I do?," again and again. All the time, I made sure to have a hand on him, not wanting to know if he would fall if I let go.

"Ron, we're here." I led him gently through the Fat Lady's portrait, shaking my head quickly when she'd raised her hand about to speak. I steered him to the nearest seat, which was actually a free one in the corner of the common room. I let him settle down by himself, watching as he stiffly looked over nothing.

I waved a hand over his eyes slowly, but he didn't respond to this.

"You're not broken, are you?"

Very slowly even by his standards, Ron threw me the closest thing to a glare.

I backed off with a smile on my face. Harry soon joined us.

"What's up, Ron?"

"Why did I do it?" the ginger whispered by a thousandth time. Without warning, Ron seized Harry by his front robes and began to shook him desperately. "I don't know what made me do it!"

"Wh – what?" Harry spluttered.

"All right, Ron, back off!" I jumped between them and tried to pry off his hands off Harry. Ron didn't even fight: he fell back on his seat as soon as Harry was at a safe distance from him.

"What happened to him?" Harry hissed on my ear.

"He - ah - well -"

A shadow fell over us. "He asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him." I tilted my head to look at Ginny, who wasn't bothering to fight the smile off her face.

"How do you know?"

She shrugged. "Word travels."

"It happened like, eight minutes ago?"

"Why did you do that?" Harry asked Ron.

"I don't know!" Ron gasped. "What was I playing at? There were people – all around – I've gone mad – everyone watching! She was just standing there, talking to Diggory! Something just came over me, and I asked her!"

"Ron, you screamed at her," I stressed out the words. "It was downright frightening; I thought someone died."

Ron moaned and dropped his head into his hands. He kept talking, but his words were came out slurred.

"She looked at me as if I was some kind of sea slug! Didn't even answer – and then, I dunno – just sort of came to my senses and ran for it!"

"No, you didn't. I had to drag you all the way up the tower!"

"She's part Veela. You were right – her grandmother is one. It wasn't your fault. I bet you just saw her when she putting on the old charm for Diggory. She was wasting her time, though. He's going with Cho."

Ron looked up from his hands.

"I asked her to go with me just now," Harry said dully, "and she told me."

I averted my eyes from them, puffing out my cheeks and let out a small breath.

"This is mad," Ron said. "We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone – well, except Neville."

"Wrong," I sung. Having caught their attention, I couldn't help but gloat Neville's success. "As of two hours ago, Neville's got a date."

"Now I'm really depressed," the redhead moaned, slumping. "…I mean, who would go with him?" He snorted. I glared at him.

"Maybe he's just smart enough to attract girls," I said.

"Neville, good with girls? The only ones he hangs around is you two and Hermione!"

"Don't laugh!" said Ginny, annoyed. "Don't you dare -"

Just then Hermione climbed in through the portrait hole.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?" she said, coming over to join us.

"Because-" Ginny started, "-oh shut up laughing, you two – because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!"

Both Harry and Ron shut up.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," Ron gloomily said. I sighed.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" Hermione said loftily. "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone somewhere who'll have you."

But Ron was staring at Hermione very strangely. His head then lolled to the side; Ron looked like he was having an epiphany when his blue eyes landed on me.

"Hermione, Anne... you two are girls!"

"Really? What made you think so?" I deadpanned. "Was it the skirts or -"

I hadn't finished speaking when Ginny covered my mouth with her hand.

"Well spotted," Hermione said acidly.

"No – what I mean is, you two can go as our dates!"

"No, we can't!" Hermione snapped as I freed myself and yelled, "No, we won't!"

Ron frowned. "Why not?"

"We already got dates, you ninny!"

"No, you don't!"

"Just because it has taken you three years to notice, Ronald, doesn't mean no one else has spotted us as girls!" Hermione spat.

Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.

"Okay, okay, we know you're girls," he said. "That'll do? Will you both come now?"

"I've already told you, I'm going with someone else!" Hermione stormed off to the girls dormitory.

"She's lying," Ron said as he watched her go.

"No, she isn't," I snapped. "And neither am I. How could you possibly be so full of yourself? With that attitude of yours, is a wonder we still hang around you! We are no one's second choice!"

With more force than necessary, I threw a cushion at his head and stood. I did not look at Harry and Ginny when I escaped toward the girls' dorms.

Hermione's curtains were closed, but I could hear the quiet sniffles she let out. With a snarl, I went toward my bed and closed the curtains. After I made sure they were locked, I cast a silencing spell at them and I fell backwards with a small, frustrated scream. I started cursing Ron for his insensitivity, at Harry for being so thick head, James for his damn stories, and finally, myself for being influenced with this stupid dance. If I hadn't been so angry, I would've patted myself on my good pronunciation of French vulgarities.