Ginny looked up, and then back down at her breakfast. It was porridge, with honey and a couple of blackberries. It looked good, it smelled good, but her stomach wasn't tempted. She nibbled at a bit of dry toast instead, ignoring the way Hermione nudged the bowl closer to her, gently pushing a spoon between her fingers. She vaguely heard her say that she needed a good breakfast, especially because her first class was Care of Magical Creatures, an outdoor lesson, so she needed something warm to keep her from catching a chill. It seemed more like a ploy to make her eat more, since her appetite had waned drastically after the Incident. Which had nothing to do with keeping her warm for an outdoor class. Hermione hinted that she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the lesson if she was cold, and Ginny snorted at her disbelievingly. She couldn't bring herself to care about whether she paid attention to any of her classes or not, especially not with the Christmas Holidays so close. She could worry about her O. after the holidays, which she would go home for, and let her mother fuss over her and stuff her full of amazing home cooking whether she wanted it or not.
She ignored the porridge in front of her, much to Hermione's annoyance, and jumped as Lavendar and Parvati plonked themselves on the bench next to her, giggling madly and motioning to Ginny and Hermione. "Have you heard? There's going to be a Yule Ball over the Christmas holidays!" Lavendar squealed, barely able to contain her excitement. Parvati was almost as bad, giggling fit to burst and looking around the table at various listeners and potential dates. Ginny felt her plans for the holidays wither and slip away from her, and she groaned internally. So much for a family Christmas. Everyone would want to stay here for the Holidays, to go to this Ball. All the talk between that moment and when the event actually happened would be about dresses, boys and how amazing the night was going to be. She would seem boring if she went home when everyone else was staying for the Ball. Lavendar's voice cut through her thoughts, making her look up. "Are you hoping for someone in particular to ask you?" Her mind immediately flashed to Harry, and a spark of hope flared in her chest. Maybe he would ask her to the Ball. . .
She could imagine them sweeping onto the dancefloor before everyone else, holding each other close and swaying gently to the music, knowing that everyone was watching but not caring, in their own private world where they were the only people that existed. It was a blissful thought, and the other girls giggled and made knowing sounds when she smiled and blushed. She felt a little better about staying in Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays with that thought swirling around her mind. Hearing that the Weird Sisters would be playing was an added bonus. A very big added bonus.
She spent the rest of that morning in a daze, daydreaming about Harry coming up to her and awkwardly asking her to the Ball, and she would smile in a way that made him blush and stutter before agreeing to go with him, and he would beam like she had just given him the best thing in the whole world, and they would enter the Great Hall with everyone staring at them, all the other girls would envy her for her own beauty and for the handsome, proud man on her arm, and they would spend the evening in their own little world, talking to others but with eyes only for each other, and when they danced they would swirl through the other dancers, close to bumping into them but managing to avoid them, their steps in perfect harmony, knowing exactly what the other was going to do as they went, not looking anywhere but into each others eyes. The happy daydream lasted until about midday, when Dean Thomas approached her looking hopeful.
"Um, Ginny? D'you want to go to the Ball with me?" She wilted slightly, trying not to let guilty disappointment show on her face. She liked Dean well enough, he was a nice guy, not bad looking, but. . . She was waiting for Harry to ask her. She had been hoping beyond hope that Harry would get to her before anyone else had a chance to ask her, so that in the event that anyone else asked her, she could say that she was already going with someone. Unfortunately, she was still date-less, and Dean Thomas was looking so hopeful that she almost said yes. Almost. Guilt burned as he read the look on her face, and his hope died, leaving disappointment and a small amount of hurt. She stepped forward, about to take his hand, when he backed away, letting disappointment show fully on his face. "It's OK, Ginny. I understand." He turned away, leaving her to squirm in guilt for rejecting him. Suddenly she found herself hoping that Dean was the only boy other than Harry that wanted to take her to the Ball, otherwise she'd feel like this every time a boy walked away from her.
For the rest of the day, Ginny watched as all of her friends were taken to one side by boys from various Houses, and walked away either looking dejected or with a spring in their step and a smug expression. A few more approached her, and she felt the same amount of guilt that she had rejecting Dean every time a boy walked away from her. Was she really so confident that Harry was going to ask her, that she was going to reject several good looking and good natured boys in favour of a boy who was coveted by most of the female population at Hogwarts, most of whom only wanted him for his fame and the fact that he was a Triwizard Champion? Yes. She had seen the look in his eyes when she woke up on the shore of the Lake after the explosion, and he was the one holding her in his arms, not any of her brothers. She was so sure that he was going to ask her, and she didn't care who she rejected while she waited for him to ask her.
The next day, she watched him walk towards her at breakfast with a hopeful look, which switched to disappointment when he walked past her to sit with Ron and Hermione on her other side. She turned her attention back to her bowl of soggy cereal, when Harry started yelling, waving an arm. "Hey! Over here!" She turned to look at who he was yelling at, and stared. The boy they had found on the shore of the Lake a couple of days ago had wandered into the Great Hall, looking totally lost. He was wearing a light, cream coloured jumper, black trousers and he walked awkwardly, like he wasn't use to it. His longish, white blond hair flopped into his eyes, looking soft and silky. As much as she wanted Harry, and thought he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, this strange boy came a close second. There was a slight hint at a lightly muscled body beneath his clothes, and she noted that she wasn't the only girl eyeing him up.
Harry's yells made the boy's grey eyes to flicker to the Gryffindor Table, and he looked at Harry first before scanning the table. His eyes met hers and she felt like she had been struck by lightning. The look in his eyes was intense, like he saw straight into her soul and out the other side. In that one moment she felt insanely attracted to him, and was positive beyond any shadow of a doubt that he felt the same. The moment lasted barely a second, but felt like hours, and was broken by another yell from Harry, and the boy sped up, walking straight past her and sitting at the table with Harry, Ron and Hermione. "You look a bit lost, mate. You alright?" The boy nodded, giving Harry a little smile. He glanced at Ginny, and she felt that intensity again, before both turned to fact forwards again, so that the boy could talk to Harry, and she could finally eat the soggy mess in front of her.
"So, what's your name, then?" She heard Ron ask, and after a brief silence Harry cut in. "He can't speak. I thought it was only temporary after the explosion, but it must be permanent. Maybe he's deaf or something. Oh, not deaf, just mute then." The boy must have made some kind of motion that said he wasn't deaf. "Can you write it down?" was the next question, from Hermione. Turned out he couldn't. "A guessing game then?" Nods. She had turned to watch them as they started the game, and tried not to laugh too much as Harry, Ron and Hermione started guessing. The first hint was that the name had two syllables. And it wasn't any of the common names that they said to him. They moved on to guessing syllables, and after many silly sounding combinations, ended with the word Draco, which, when guessed, received a firm nod.
"So Draco, what House are you in?" The puzzled look on his face said he either couldn't remember or wasn't a Hogwarts student. The subject was dropped, and it was agreed that Draco would stick with them for the next few days, until he found people he recognised. Or until they sent him to St Mungo's, if his voice and memory didn't come back. She wondered what his full name was, and where he was from. The guessing game would take too long get his second name, so they hadn't bothered. Harry had mentioned Professor Snape taking Draco under his wing, as Dumbledore had put it, but when asked, the boy had shrugged in an absent kind of way, as if he didn't know or care about whoever it was they were talking about. He clearly felt the same way they did about the greasy Slytherin Head of House.
After breakfast, she watched Harry, Ron, Hermione and their new friend leave the Hall, giving Draco "a tour of the castle." She watched them go, noting all the female heads that turned to watch the newcomer leave, and again she felt a vague disappointment as Harry walked past her with a mere goodbye, and no mention of the Ball.