Disclaimer—If you like it, assume I don't own it. The HP universe and all its inhabitants (minus Bion) belong to JK Rowling, Steve Kloves, Scholastic, WB, and etc…not to me. Most scenes also belong to the aforementioned. No copy infringement is intended, and no money is being made. Progress is a lot slower in this work, but I hope you'll stick with me anyway. My gratitude to all of the readers who have stuck with me and encouraged me up to this point. As you know, I may not own it, but I work hard, and I love it, so please don't post this elsewhere without my knowledge. I know there are discrepancies, but for now I like them and prefer to write new scenes instead of revising old ones.
Finally, it is no fault of my awesome and beloved beta reader if there are mistakes in this chapter. I was so happy to have completed it, I posted it before sending it to her.
Neville was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. Blushing and looking at his feet, he told them both they looked very nice. Delighted with his admiration, the sincerity of which was not to be doubted, Hermione and Ginny sandwiched him in a hug, each of them pressing a kiss to one of his cheeks.
"You look pretty smashing yourself," Ginny said awkwardly, trying not to choke on the butterflies fluttering up from her stomach and into her throat.
Neville smiled sheepishly, then visibly pulling himself together, bowed stiffly and offered each of them an arm.
The three of them descended the staircases to the entrance hall together.
Being a head taller than most of the other students milling about, Krum had no trouble spotting them, and was already moving toward them as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Ginny squeezed Hermione's hand encouragingly as Krum approached. Hermione squeezed back, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped forward to meet her date, ignoring the low surge of murmurs from the startled students all around them. Krum took both of Hermione's hands in both of his, and leaned down to rest his forehead against Hermione's.
All the girls standing around them gasped and sighed.
Ginny and Neville exchanged a slightly uncomfortable glance. Ginny shrugged. They started to move away, but before as they took the first step, Krum held up a hand, motioning for them to wait.
Tucking Hermione's hand into his arm, Krum moved slowly and confidently through the crowd, motioning for Ginny and Neville to follow. As he walked, awed students fell back to stare, parting the crowd. He escorted them to the front of the crowd near the door. He gravely shook each of their hands, and turned to lead Hermione away. Ginny thought she heard him muttering, "I vould like to stay vith your friends, but Professor Karkaroff says ve must all meet outside so ve can make a grand entrance together."
Ginny and Neville waited together in awkward but friendly silence. It was just as well neither of them really knew what to say let alone any burning desire to say it, as they probably wouldn't have been able to make themselves heard over the roar of the crowd anyway.
Ginny made a half-hearted effort to look around for others she knew, but the press of the crowd made her feel a bit dizzy. Even if this hadn't been the case, short as she was, she could barely see through the fluttering forest robes formed by the people standing nearest to her. She was aware of the sound of the oaken front doors swinging open, but she didn't exactly see them do it, nor did she see the foreign exchange students and their dates join the rest of them.
All-in-all, it was a great relief when the doors to the Great Hall opened, revealing that the usual long rows of the House Tables had been replaced with clusters of large, round tables swathed in green velvet and overlaid with white lace. They looked like evergreens in the snow.
The rafters of the ceiling had been hung with garlands of ivy, dotted with clusters of mistletoe. They stood out in stark relief against the twilight-purple sky of the ceiling. Snowflakes sparkled like fairy dust as they drifted in between banks of flaming white candles. The frost-coated walls glowed with a silver gleam.
The tables had already been set, red plates framed in gold, crystal goblets gleaming like ice.
Ginny and Neville decided on a table. Neville gallantly, if sheepishly, pulled her chair out for her, and was just helping her get situated, when Lee Jordan shouted, "Oy, over here! I found them!" Neville and Ginny both jumped.
Lee chuckled merrily, obviously quite pleased with himself, and put his arm around his date. "Fay, you know Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley from the Common Room, right?"
"Oh, sure. Neville's the one who won us the House Cup, right out from under Slytherin, a few years ago, right? And, Ginny Weasley—you must be—"
"She is," Fred assured Fay over her shoulder.
"As if there were any question," scoffed George, who had arrived accompanied by Alicia Spinnet. "What I do question, on the other hand, is what on earth he's doing here?"
Fred gasped affronted. "What! Weatherby!"
Percy was sitting—very stiffly and importantly—at the only long rectangular table left in the room—the Hogwart's Head Table.
"What's he doing there?" Ginny asked confused. "I thought that table was reserved for teachers, Champions, and…" she paused, feeling as if realization was dawning, though the realization didn't make the slightest bit of sense. "Ministry Officials."
"Bet that stuffy Crouch couldn't be bothered," George said sagely.
"Hey, Ginny, mind if we join you?"
Ginny gaped.
"Oh, hey, Bion," Lee said for her. "Of course we don't mind."
"I…uh…hi…Bion….I…didn't know you were coming." Ginny said, still a bit dazed.
"Yeah, with all the hubbub and excitement before the Ball, we've barely waved at one another in the Halls lately," Bion said with a grin. "But I wouldn't have mentioned it even if I'd had time. I wanted to surprise you."
Ginny blinked. "Well, as you can see… you succeeded. It certainly is…a surprise…and a very nice one it is; it's lovely to see you. Your date has excellent taste, obviously."
The girl in question grinned and stuck out her hand. "Susan Bones, Hufflepuff," she said confidently. "You lot are Weasleys, right? My Aunt Amelia talks about your father a lot—she works at the Ministry, too, you see."
"Oh, right." Fred said cheerfully as George murmured, "Of course."
"Finally!" observed another, unfamiliar voice. "A face I recognize. Can you believe this madhouse, Bion?"
"Bit of a shock," Bion agreed. "But you're in luck. Have a seat."
The tall boy collapsed gratefully, running a hand through his thick, dark hair, rumpling it so that it stood on end almost like—Ginny hurriedly shunted the thought away.
"Michael, here—oh, and Mandy—are fellow Ravenclaws," Bion explained to the table at large.
Michael nodded absently. "Hey, there."
Before introductions could go much further, the doors to the Great Hall swung open again. Apparently, it was time for the Champions to make their entrance.
Fleur Delacour was first, as Ginny had little doubt she'd intended to be. She was a bit too stunning—if such a thing were possible—in clinging robes of silver-gray satin, her white-blonde hair a cascade of crystal-studded curls. Rather to Ginny's satisfaction, Michael, Bion, and Mandy ignored Fleur in favor of shouting and whistling encouragement to her date, Roger Davies. Roger, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain barely seemed to notice. He looked dazed. Ginny snorted and shook her head.
The strange, prickling annoyance Fleur seemed to provoke in Ginny was forgotten immediately, as Hermione came into view. The two-thirds of the table from Gryffindor made three times the noise the Ravenclaws had just produced, largely thanks to Fred and George. Hermione and Krum both waved in response, grinning madly.
Ginny caught sight of Ron, a few tables closer to the front of the room, leaning so far into the aisle he looked in danger of falling off of his chair. He wasn't cheering, just staring so intently Ginny was a bit worried Hermione's robes might burst into fire. A pretty girl sitting next to Ron crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. Ginny had a feeling she ought to intervene, but she was at an utter loss as to how.
Then Ginny caught sight of Harry and all thought disappeared.
Until Percy pulled out the chair next to him and all but forced Harry into it, at which point, Ginny's face was so hot she wouldn't have been a bit surprised to find it was giving off sparks like a Filibuster Firework. Lee patted her shoulder reassuringly while Fred and George grunted in disgust. She felt a bit better.
Professor Dumbledore picked up the menu lying across his plate and ordered. All through the Great Hall, people started to do the same. Ginny wondered if it were harder or easier for the House Elves to make individual servings appear on separate plates than the usual serving platters. It seemed about the same to her, though she realized she had no real basis for the judgment. She hoped Hermione wasn't going to expect her to be outraged later.
Although the lamb chops, dark and just slightly crisp with grilling on the outside, pink and juicy inside, dotted with rosemary and mint jelly just the color of Harry's eyes, were delicious enough to be worth a dozen future rants from Hermione.
The last lingering taste of chocolate-apricot torte was just fading from Ginny's tongue when Professor Dumbledore stood and asked the students to step away from the tables so he could sweep them neatly out of the way. The Weird Sisters were taking their places on the stage almost before Ginny realized Professor Dumbledore had conjured it.
The lighting dimmed. Ginny stared, feeling an eerie sense of déjà vu, as if she were falling into a trance, loosing herself…just as she had done in the past…she shuddered slightly. Harry looked so distant and unobtainable as he and Parvati whirled slowly past…and…Ginny shuddered again…in those green-tinted robes, with his dark hair and the shadows darkening his usually bright eyes…he didn't look like himself at all. But…he didn't exactly look unfamiliar…she rather wished he had…it would have been so much better than this…so much better than looking at Harry and seeing Tom. She swallowed hard.
"Ginny?" Neville whispered uncertainly. "Are you alright?"
"Mmm….what? No, I'm fine, Neville," Ginny said, pulling herself together with an effort, and reaching out to take Neville's hand. "Thank you for asking."
Other couples were beginning to drift onto the dance floor.
"Well," George asked as he and Alicia whirled past, "what are you waiting for?"
"An engraved invitation?" suggested Fred, twirling Angelina onto the dance floor.
Ginny laughed and tugged Neville onto the dance floor.
The first few dances were a bit uncomfortable. She had never really danced with anyone except her father before, and practicing with a broom had given her a tendency to lead. Neville, naturally enough, had the same tendency, and they kept pulling apart in different directions, or trying to put their feet in the same place at the same time.
After several minutes of breathless apologies on either side, a lot of wincing, and a great deal of laughter, however, they finally seemed to find their stride. And, suddenly, Ginny discovered, rather to her own surprise, that they were having a great deal of fun…and she'd hardly thought of anyone else—let alone Harry Potter—for quite a long time.
Until Hermione stormed across the dance floor in front of her, nearly tripping Neville in the process.
No words were necessary. Ginny and Neville broke apart and followed Hermione. They found her huddled in a quiet corner, knees pulled up to her chest, tears running silently down her cheeks. Ginny and Neville sat down on either side of her, sliding their arms across her shoulders.
"Ron's a prat," Neville said eventually.
Hermione made a sound of half-laugh, half-protest.
"No, Hermione," Ginny said firmly, exchanging a look with Neville, "it's true. We all know it."
"He may be a prat…but…Ginny, what he said…what if he's right?" Hermione gasped unhappily.
"Ron?" Ginny said incredulously. "Well…I suppose stranger things have happened…but only by accident."
"What did he say?" Neville asked quietly.
"That…that Viktor…only asked me to the Ball because…because he…he…wanted me to…help him cheat...against Harry!" Hermione sat straight up, eyes blazing, suddenly less upset than outraged.
"Well, even if Krum wanted that…which I doubt..." Ginny said slowly, "…having seen the way he was looking at you in the library…" Neville nodded in fervent agreement, "…anyone who knows you at all knows that you would never, ever do that."
"Ginny's right," Neville said.
"But…why…" Hermione began uncertainly.
Neville made a sound of pure exasperation. "Ron's just jealous."
The smile breaking across Hermione's watery face was miraculous. "Oh, Neville…"
"If Ron's determined to let jealousy ruin his evening, he deserves what he gets," Ginny said, squelching a sympathetic twinge.
"But don't give him the satisfaction of letting him ruin your fun," Neville added.
"Our fun," Ginny corrected, but gently, with a sympathetic squeeze for Hermione in the process.
"Our fun," Neville agreed with a grave nod, "too."
"Oops," Ginny said, catching sight of something. "Chin up. Here comes Krum."
Hermione hastily dashed the last of the tears from her eyes as the three of them struggled to their feet.
Krum strode purposefully toward them, carrying two dripping bottles of butterbeer, and wearing a scowl. "Herm-own-ninny, I thought you vere going to see Harry Potter. Did that boy say something to upset you?"
"Oh, nothing," Hermione said coolly, if a bit shakily.
Krum eyed her closely. She shrugged. "Nothing," she repeated, "of consequence."
"Those butterbeers look good," Neville interjected. "Don't they, Ginny? Co—"
"Vhy don't ve share?" Krum suggested. "Herm-own-ninny and I can take one, and you two can have the other."
"Oh, that's nice of you." Ginny said uneasily. "Okay. Thanks."
In spite of her misgivings, the shared butterbeer was both not only fortifying, but pleasant. Krum was kind enough to dispose of the bottles for them, and even suggested he and Ginny share a dance so Hermione could partner Neville.
This appeared to start something of a trend, and soon everyone was swapping partners.