Disclaimer-If you like it, assume I don't own it. The Potterverse belongs to JKR, Steve Klowes, Scholastic and WB. Fanon belongs to the multitude. . .I'm simply paying homage. Most of this scene is from GoF by JK Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money is being made.

Author's Notes—Progress has been a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll all stick with me anyway. As you all know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so if you read it and enjoy it, please review it! Please don't print or post this elsewhere without my knowledge.

Congratulations, all! Book 6 is on the way! Yay!

Raiiining—Yeah…finally! I was so excited! That certainly wasn't Ginny's shining moment, but she still hasn't gotten her feet around Harry yet…and she DID talk to him, intelligently or not. ;-)

Realfanficts—I felt like I had died or abandoned you—it seemed like decades—but I'd been thinking about the story and my readers all along. Thanks for the compliment! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. :-)

Arachna—I do admit it was a long time. . . far too long! I admit that the incident with Harry wasn't mentioned in his POV within the canon, but I don't consider that any indication it couldn't have happened for him, as he doesn't dwell on each minute detail of a party or event, and I suspect that kind of haphazard interaction in the Gryffindor Common Room happens far too often for him to see it as significant. Ginny, on the other hand…grins and shrugs I appreciate the feedback, though...thanks! Hope you enjoy the new installment.

EEDOE—I loved that little romantic moment for Ginny. . . I get to write so few of them. That line about the shower was one of my favorites, so I'm glad you liked it. And, I totally agree…I can sympathize with Ginny's reaction the mirror. Being a girl can be rough! Thanks for all your help! hugs

Bill—That was too funny for words. When are you posting your first fanfiction? Hope you enjoy this…and to hear from you soon. hugs

It soon became clear Ginny needn't have worried about directing Harry's notice to Dobby. Within a few days, Hermione took care of it for her, running into the elf on her attempted raid of the kitchens. Ginny was pleased to know the elf had received some of the attention he craved but didn't feel worthy to request. Ginny had even more sympathy for Dobby now than she had when they'd first met, having spent the last several days keeping constant watch of Harry, anxious to continue talking to him now she had begun but unsure of what to say, and keeping enough distance between them that she didn't have to deal with whatever his reaction might have been if he had noticed her presence.

Thursday, Ginny took advantage of her lighter schedule and the near-empty Gryffindor Tower to distract herself with an attempt to catch up on her studies in Occlumency. She was deeply absorbed in the nondescript but informative volume Professor Lupin had sent when Tempest's voice, near Ginny's shoulder, sent her into several seconds of fumbling attempts to catch the book she'd inadvertently tossed into the air with a shriek.

"Oh, sorry, Ginny," said Tempest. "I didn't mean to scare you, but you were so stuck in that book! You've been spending too much time with that Hermione—you're turning into a regular bookworm! But I bet even she's going to put the books aside for this, isn't she? I mean, she's so lucky she gets to go—maybe even with a champion, since she's always hanging around Harry—for once I'm really jealous of her, aren't you? But maybe we'll get lucky. I mean, someone might ask us, right? Do you think it would count if we asked them to invite us?"

Ginny, having taken time to slide her book into her pocket and attempt to regulate her pulse and breathing, blinked mildly. "Uh, sure? But who are we asking to invite us to what, Tempest?"

Tempest looked taken aback. "You mean you haven't heard?"

"That is exactly what I mean, actually," Ginny returned drily. "What are you talking about?"

"The Yule Ball!" Tempest exclaimed, aghast at Ginny's stupidity. "There's going to be a ball for fourth year and above. And the Champions are going to open the ball by dancing the first with their partners!"

"A ball," Ginny repeated slowly. "You mean, a real, dancing ball, like in Mansfield Park?"

"Where's that?" Tempest looked momentarily confused. "Oh, who cares? Of course a real dancing ball, with live music and everything! Oh, I really want to go, don't you?"

"Well . . . it does sound like fun . . ." Ginny admitted. "But we probably shouldn't get our hopes up too much . . . after all, we're not fourth years."

Tempest looked at Ginny as if she'd just betrayed all of womankind, but the approach of Patricia Hart, talking animatedly to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil seemed to distract her slightly. Ginny took the opportunity to escape, though she couldn't resist heading to the fourth year girls' dormitory instead of her own.

Crookshanks greeted her with an encouraging purr, and Ginny scratched between his ears trying not to picture Harry, looking at her with that serious stare, asking her to go to the dance with him . . . trying not to imagine what dancing with him would be like, his hand on her waist, her hand in his. . . .

"Oh, hi, Ginny," said Hermione, dropping her bag on the floor with a resounding thunk. "I take it you heard, then?"

"Tempest sounded more enthusiastic," Ginny answered.

Hermione sighed, sitting next to her on the bed and pulling her knees up to her chest. "I'm not really sure how I feel about it yet," she said. "Balls in books are always so . . . grown-up."

"And romantic?" suggested Ginny, still thinking of Mansfield Park.

"But . . ."

"I can't really picture romance associated with Harry and Ron," Ginny said for her. "Let alone the twins, but even if it isn't as wonderful as the dances in books--"

"I'm afraid it will just be embarrassing," Hermione admitted. Crookshanks rubbed his face reassuringly along the bottom of her feet and continued to purr. "What if no one asks me?"

"At least you'll still be able to go," Ginny sighed. "I'm stuck being left out. Again."

"Being left out is better than having everyone staring out you wondering why you couldn't even get a partner for a dance," Hermione said.

"You're worrying over nothing," Ginny told her, "if anything, you'll have the opposite problem—you'll have to pick your partner—Harry or Ron."

Hermione went slightly pink. "Oh, I hope not," she said, "I'd hate to disappoint either one of them. . ."

"I'm sure they know that," Ginny said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to give them an affectionate squeeze.

"But . . . you know what the obvious solution is. . . " Hermione said into the ensuing pause.

"Obvious to us," Ginny agreed. "But maybe not to them. . . ."

When she and Hermione were alone in the holly-and-ivy bedecked library a few days later, Ginny couldn't help asking, "So, has anyone asked you to the ball yet?"

Hermione looked up with a wryly sympathetic smile. "No, thank you for asking. I have two male best friends and no date to the Yule Ball—it hasn't even occurred to them that they could ask me."

"It hasn't occurred to them to ask anyone," Ginny consoled Hermione—and herself—with a dry chuckle.

"Oh, it's occurred to them who not to ask," Hermione said scathingly. "Eloise Midgen, for example. Though we're not on that list either . . . I doubt they've even recognized the fact we are girls. Maybe you should just come as my guest. At least then--"

"Is that allowed?" Ginny asked.

Hermione, staring over Ginny's shoulder, didn't answer. Ginny, turned to see what had distracted her, and felt dwarfed by the looming presence of Viktor Krum. He looked surprisingly shy and awkward. "Can we help you?" Ginny prompted politely.

"I vas vandering . . ." he began uncomfortably, almost apologetically, looking between his feet, Hermione, and Ginny, and shifting his weight. "That is . . . I think you are the most beautiful girl . . . and I vould be honored . . . vold you consider . . . I vould like it if . . . vould you go to the Yule Ball vith me?"

Ginny felt hot and flushed, though whether it was with embarrassment for her own lack of a date, sympathetic discomfort for Krum, sisterly rage for Ron . . . or. . . . She really couldn't begin to decide.

Hermione looked stunned, then suddenly flushed pink and looked flattered. "I – I um . . . I thought. . ." she faltered, glancing at Ginny. Suddenly resolute, Ginny nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you," Hermione finished awkwardly. Krum beamed, looking boyishly vulnerable and enthusiastic, and Ginny couldn't help being glad Hermione didn't disappoint him. They watched him walk away in a silence that stretched.

"Well . . ." Hermione said eventually. "Well. . . ."

"Hermione," Ginny said a little later, "you realize you just got asked to the ball by the most sought-after boy at Hogwarts? That's incredible!"

"I know," Hermione said, sounding miserable. "Everyone's going to be wondering what he was thinking--"

"No," Ginny contradicted firmly, "they're going to be wondering how they could have missed seeing everything he admires about you."

"They'll all think I tricked him into it because I wanted a famous escort . . . Ron--"

"And Harry know better than that," Ginny finished, though she knew Ron might say that was what Hermione wanted, whether he knew better or not. He certainly wasn't going to be happy. . . "They had their chance to ask you, anyhow. It's their fault if they didn't, not yours. You've got a date for the ball and you should be able to enjoy it! What are you going to wear?"

"Oh, Mum and I got the nicest dress robes in Diagon Alley! I can't believe I haven't shown them to you already—they're in my room, come and see--!" said Hermione, in an excited rush. Ginny couldn't help but grin.