A/N: A lot of regular readers were pushing for a bonus update this week, but I had to exercise some self-control and resist. I love posting a new chapter, but I can't just throw them all up at once. I have to ration them out; if I don't, I'll eat up my buffer, and there will be a lag between the end of Book 4 and the beginning of Book 5. Nobody wants that to happen… right?

The Weird Sisters started the Champion's Dance with playing a slow song, almost mournful sounding. The song was sharply at odds with the festively lit dance floor and cheerful winter decorations, and it certainly didn't put Harry in the mood to dance. Nevertheless, the Champions were supposed to begin the dancing. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies had already started to twirl around the dance floor, and Krum and Cedric were not far behind with Hermione and Cho Chang.

As Harry took his position on the dance floor, he placed both of his hands on Ginny's waist. Something was wrong, though, and he couldn't remember the steps of the dance…

Ah, that was it. Harry reached up and plucked one of Ginny's hands off his shoulder. With the two of them in proper form, the steps began to flow naturally, and Harry led Ginny around the dance floor in a swirl of robes. Ginny smiled brilliantly, delighted to be twirling around the floor.

"I hope Parkinson is watching," Ginny said. "I bet this just kills her."

Harry glanced over Ginny's shoulder. Pansy was slouching in her chair and glowering at the dance floor. It was obvious that Pansy was consumed with jealousy—nothing else could make Pansy forget her manners so completely.

"See for yourself," Harry said, twirling them around so Ginny could get a look.

Ginny giggled. "She looks like she swallowed some milk that had gone off."

"It's not her best look," Harry said. He felt a pang of sadness for Pansy—she had spent so long teaching Harry how to dance, and now she had to watch Harry perform the dance with another witch. A Gryffindor, no less. But Harry couldn't dwell for long—Ginny's enjoyment was infectious, and she was a capable dancer. By the end of the song, Harry was smiling brightly, despite the dirge-like pace of the dance.

Finally, to the delight of all involved, the Weird Sisters brought their song to an end. There were polite applause from the crowd and the Champions. Harry was clapping more because the song had ended than because he appreciated the performance.

One of the Weird Sisters stepped up to the microphone. Surprisingly, this Weird Sister was male. In fact, now that Harry looked more closely, all of them appeared to be male, and very hairy. Each of their pants was torn in multiple places, and their shirts appeared un-ironed, but it was clear that the Weird Sisters were proud of their state of dishevelment.

The Weird Sister grabbed the microphone and leaned forward aggressively. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, are you ready to rock and roll!? ONE TWO THREE FOUR!" The band exploded into a cacophony of music—guitars and drums and a cello and a couple of lutes, even a set of bagpipes. The students cheered and began to rush toward the dance floor. Apparently, this was a popular song. Harry felt Ginny begin to pull away from him, moving toward her seat.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"We're done, aren't we?" Ginny asked. "We did our dance. I figured that you'd want to go be with your friends. Aren't we done?"

"Nope," Harry said. "It's a dance. You're my date. We're going to dance." Because if Harry did anything else—danced with Pansy or Tracey, or even just left Ginny behind to spend time with his friends—Hermione and Ron would murder him.

"And what if I don't stay?" Ginny asked, putting her hands on her hips. Her words were challenging, but her tone was light and teasing.

"Then I'll be forced to dance alone!" Harry began flailing his arms about, jerking his elbows and knees in something that vaguely approximated dancing. VERY vaguely. Ginny rushed forward and grabbed his shoulders.

"Harry! Stop before you hurt somebody!" Ginny seemed to be playing along, grinning despite her apparent concern.

"Aren't you impressed by my expert dance moves?"

Ginny shook her head, still smiling. "Not at all."

"Maybe if I try this…" Harry began to lurch around, bending only at the waist, pumping his arms as if he was running.

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny said. "You're an embarrassment to yourself and others. Please, stop."

"I need help," Harry said, continuing to heave his body back and forth. "It's hard to dance alone to fast songs."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'll stay and dance, I promise, but only if you stop doing that."

Harry stopped. "Good. Now… let's dance!" Harry began to dance, much more restrained than his previous attempts. He thought about his lessons with Pansy, and found that it was easy to move with the rhythm of the song. Ginny stepped back and gave Harry an appraising look—she was impressed.

"You tricked me," she said. "You can dance just fine."

Harry shrugged. "You can never trust a Slytherin."

Ginny, true to her word, stayed on the dance floor with Harry. Harry caught glimpses of his friends—Hermione dancing with Krum, Ron with Lavender, and both Ron and Hermione pointedly facing away from one another. Ginny waved at Neville and Luna Lovegood. Neville waved back, but Luna was too busy spinning in a circle with her eyes closed and her hands raised up in the air.

Ginny and Harry danced to several more songs. Harry was actually starting to get a little out of breath—it had been nearly nine months since his last quidditch practice, and he wasn't in top shape any longer. Ginny seemed to be getting tired, as well. Finally, she pulled at Harry's sleeve.

"I have to stop! My feet hurt so much!"

"Did you bring a change of shoes?" Harry asked.

Ginny nodded. "I shrunk them into my handbag. They're back at the table; come with me?"

Harry followed Ginny back to the head table. He took a seat and looked out at the crowd while she changed her shoes. His friends from Slytherin were nearby, dancing in one small section of the floor. Blaise was dancing near an unhappy-looking Pansy, but he so consumed with his efforts to flirt that he was completely oblivious to Pansy's mood. Draco and Daphne, even though they were both dancing, somehow managed to look bored. Goyle and Millicent seemed to be having a reasonably good time, bobbing back and forth on their feet, neither moving more than an inch or two to either side. Crabbe and Marietta Edgecomb were dancing a little more actively, and Crabbe was showing himself to be a surprisingly nimble dancer.

Harry was especially pleased to see that Theo and Tracey seemed to be having a great time. Tracey was all smiles, and Theo was dancing enthusiastically close… but not so close or so enthusiastically that Harry felt the need to intervene on behalf of Tracey's honor.

Harry was glad for Tracey. At least some good had come of his thickness. He certainly wasn't jealous of Theo.

Certainly not.

"I'm going to get a drink before we go dancing again," Ginny said, gesturing toward the ornate frozen punch bowl. "Do you want anything?"

"Sure," Harry said. "Whatever you're having."

As Ginny walked away, Draco excused himself from Daphne and walked over to the table.

"How are things?" asked Harry.

"Daphne has become increasingly interested with me," Draco said glumly.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Harry looked out over the crowd. Daphne was looking across the room at Draco, while trying to avoid looking like she was looking across the room at Draco.

"No," said Draco. "It's boring. When Daphne was aloof and inscrutable, her beauty was vastly enhanced. Now that she is willing to speak to me, I find her rather… plain. Her conversation is as tedious as her face is beautiful." Draco grimaced. "At least Pansy knows how to have a good time."

"Pansy? It sure doesn't seem like it," Harry said, nodding toward the dance floor. Blaise and Pansy were now playing a game of unspoken cat-and-mouse; every time Blaise danced closer, Pansy executed a complicated dance step to move herself farther away. This sequence of events was repeating itself over and over, with the two of them moving in a small orbit around the rest of the Slytherin fourth years.

"I didn't say that Pansy was having a good time. I said that she knew how. If Blaise weren't acting like such a prat, she'd be having a fine time." Draco paused thoughtfully. "How about you? How has your date with The Littlest Lion been?"

"Lay off," Harry said. "Ginny's nice."

"In her favor, she's nice. Allegedly. Weighing against her, she's a third year, a Gryffindor, a Weasley, a blood traitor, and she isn't half as pretty as some of the girls you could have asked." Draco gestured to the dance floor. "All of that was yours for the taking, Harry!"

"I told you to lay off," Harry repeated. "Ginny's my date, and I won't have anybody talking poorly about her. Not even you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine. But I can't guarantee what will be said if you bring her around Pansy and me."

"Why do you think we've stayed so far away?" Harry asked.

"A tragedy, Harry. Tonight… it could have been so much fun." Draco patted Harry's arm, and then glanced toward the punch bowl. "Your little fireball is on her way back. I'll make myself scarce."

"I couldn't ask for a better friend," Harry said sarcastically. Draco flashed him a smirk, then moved back onto the dance floor. Apparently, the prospect of dancing close to Daphne was enough to keep Draco's interest, at least for the night.

When Ginny returned to the table, her face had again become sad. She also didn't have any punch.

"What took you so long?" Harry asked. "No drinks, sad face… I can't leave you alone for a second."

"What? Oh. Punch. Sorry." Ginny dropped into her seat, but did not elaborate.

"Er… Ginny? Seriously. What took you so long?" Harry kept his tone light.

"I went up to request a song," Ginny said. "The lute player was a real jerk. He ignored me for a really long time, then told me that there were no requests before I could even finish my sentence."

"What did you want to hear?" Harry asked. "If it's any good, they'll probably play it, anyway."

"It isn't one of their songs," Ginny said. "It's something my dad and I listen to."

"What is it?"

"Nothing you'd know," Ginny said. "And they probably wouldn't have known how to play it, anyway. It was a stupid idea."

"Some wizard song?"

"No, it's a muggle song."

"And you think I wouldn't know it?" Harry gestured at himself. "Come on. Muggle raised. Give me some credit."

"Oh, right. It's by a band called The Beatles. Do you know them?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Everybody knows The Beatles." Harry was quite familiar with them—they were Petunia's favorite band. During Harry's childhood, he had been subjected to whatever music the Dursleys wanted to listen to. Petunia's fondness for The Beatles was a blessing compared to Vernon's appreciation of traditional yodeling.

"What song were you going to request?" Harry asked.

"'She Loves You.'"

Harry hummed a little bit, then sang a few lines. "'She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah…' That one?"

Ginny nodded.

"Good dance song," Harry said. "How do you know it?"

"My dad loves muggle necktology-"

"Technology," Harry corrected.

"Is that what it's called? I'll have to tell my dad; he's been pronouncing it wrong for years. Anyway, he has a… what do you call it… a record player? Is that right?"

Harry nodded.

"Daddy has a record player hidden out in his shed. He only has one record, though, and he can only ever get it to play the one song." Ginny smiled. "Sometimes, on weekends, he'll tell my mum that he's going out to clean the shed. He'll make me come along, saying something like, 'Hard work is good for a young person.' But instead of cleaning, he'll put on his record, and he and I will just dance in the shed for hours, listening to 'She Loves You,' over and over." Ginny's smile faltered, then turned sad. "I thought it would be nice to hear at the ball."

Harry patted Ginny on the arm. "Buck up. I'm going to go get us something to drink, and when I come back, we'll dance to whatever the Weird Sisters play, and we'll have a great time at it. We'll forget that the lute player is the biggest jerk in the Northern Hemisphere. Okay?"

Ginny nodded, but she didn't seem convinced.

Harry started moving toward the punch, but as soon as he was out of Ginny's sight, he veered toward the stage. The Weird Sisters were just finishing their first set of songs and were setting down their instruments. Harry approached the stage and got the attention of the nearest band member. It was one of the lute players, probably the same that Ginny had spoken with.

"Hey," Harry shouted. "Do you have a moment?"

"What do you want?" the lute player asked curtly. Apparently, the enormous fame of being the second lute player in a ten wizard band had gone to his head. Or, he was just a berk.

"I have a request," Harry said.

"No requests," the lute player snapped. "How many times do we have to tell you kids?"

"Oh… okay." Harry feigned nervousness and ran his hand through his hair, pulling it away from his forehead in what appeared to be an accident. "I didn't know. Sorry." Harry turned away but he took a long time at it, giving the lute player a good look at his scar.

"Wait wait wait!" the lute player said. "Are you… Harry Potter?"

"Yeah, sorry to bother you." Harry took a small step back, even though he had no intention of leaving.

"No, come back!" The lute player turned around. "Hey! Guys, get a load of this! Harry Potter is here!"

The rest of the band moved over to the side of the stage, and the lead singer pushed his way to the front. Harry struggled to keep from grinning. Manipulating the lute player had been too easy.

"No kidding. Harry Potter!" The lead singer extended his hand. "Myron Wagtail. Great to meet you, Harry. What a thrill, I'm a huge fan."

"Really? I'm a big fan of yours, too!" Harry lied smoothly. "It's so cool that you're here for the Yule Ball!"

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Does a niffler like gold? Of course! You guys are great!" Harry glanced at the ground. Now was the time to ask. "Sorry about the request thing. I know how hard it is having people chase after you with demands all the time."

"You want to hear a song? Heck, we can do that for Harry Potter, right?" Myron looked back at the rest of the band, and there were general murmurs of assent. "What do you want to hear?"

"Do you know The Beatles?"

Myron gave Harry a strange look. "Please. We're wizards, but we're also a British rock and roll band. Of course we know The Beatles. Which song?"

"'She Loves You?'" Harry said hopefully.

Most of the band started nodding. "We know it well enough to get through it," Myron said. "Anything else… we'll fudge. This crowd won't notice anyway."

"Thanks so much!" Harry said. "And… could you do a slow song by The Beatles, too?"

"Got a lass out in the audience, do ya?" asked one of the guitar players.

"Something like that," Harry said, slightly embarrassed.

"We can do a slow song," said Myron. "Let me think… What do we all know? 'Something,' or 'In My Life?'"

Harry shook his head. Both of those were serious love songs, and Harry wasn't sure he wanted to send that sort of message to Ginny.

Myron had continued to rattle off song titles. "I guess we know 'Norwegian Wood,' too…"

"That one," said Harry. "'Norwegian Wood.'"

Myron made a face. "That's a rather odd one."

"Perfect for a crowd of wizards, right?" Harry winked, and Myron let out a loud laugh. Harry knew "Norwegian Wood" was silly, but that was a good thing for a first date. And as soon as Myron had suggested the song, Harry had realized that "Norwegian Wood" was actually a waltz—he could put his dance lessons with Pansy to use once again.

"Harry, er, Mr. Potter… before you leave…" One of the guitar players stepped forward with a quill. "Could you… autograph my guitar?" The rest of the Weird Sisters immediately began to tease the guitar player, but he refused to retract his request.

"Why not?" said Harry. He was in a good mood. He didn't like to give autographs, not after that business with Lockheart during second year, but this was for a good cause. Harry took the quill and signed the guitar with two large letters: HP. On a whim, Harry zig-zagged the bottom of the P so that it resembled a lightning bolt. There could be no doubt about the source of the signature.

"Thanks, guys!" Harry said. He gave the band a wave, and they all waved back. Harry walked back to the head table, making a quick detour to pick up drinks from the punch fountain.

"That took a long time," Ginny said.

"Long line," Harry said easily. "Once the music stopped, everybody wanted punch."

A few minutes later, the Weird Sisters again took the stage. Harry pulled on Ginny's wrist.

"Let's go dance," he said.

"I don't know if I'm in the mood any longer."

"Don't let one jerk ruin your night," Harry said. "Let's just dance to whatever they play, and we'll have a great time."

Ginny finally relented. As they took their spot on the dance floor, Myron stepped up to the microphone.

"The Weird Sisters want to dedicate this song to a special fan. We all owe him a huge debt, and this is the least we can do. And one, two, three…"

"She loves you yeah, yeah yeah

She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah,

She loves you yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!"

Muggleborn students burst into cheers, instantly recognizing the song. Ginny stopped dead in her tracks and turned to Harry, eyes wide in astonishment.

"How?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes it's good to be Harry Potter."

Ginny broke into a brilliant smile, and began to dance. Harry found it hard to keep up with her—it was clear that this was Ginny's favorite song, and that she had danced to it hundreds of times. By the time the song was finishing, Ginny had her hands in the air, and she was screaming the lyrics along with the band.

"With a love like that

You know you should…

Be glad!

Yeah yeah yeah!

Yeah yeah yeah yeah!"

The song finished, and the muggleborn students cheered and clapped wildly. Across the dance floor, Draco and the rest of the Slytherin fourth years seemed utterly perplexed.

"One more request, and then we'll be back to Weird Sister original songs," Myron said into the microphone. The guitar player strummed the first few chords of Norwegian Wood, and the students began to split off into couples. Even if the wizards didn't know the song, they knew it was a slow dance.

Ginny turned to leave the dance floor, but Harry caught her hand. "Don't you want to dance?" Harry asked.

Ginny flushed red, then nodded. Harry pulled her back, took her hand in his, and placed his other hand on her waist. He began to move his feet, leading Ginny around the dance floor, silently counting in his head, one two three, one two three, one two three…

"I don't recognize this," Ginny said. Her eyebrows had drawn together in puzzlement.

"This is another song by The Beatles," Harry said. "I requested this one, too."

"Why?"

"Because it's pretty, and I thought you might like to hear another song by the Beatles," Harry said. "And because I spent the last week learning how to waltz, and I didn't want it to go to waste." Harry paused. With Ginny this close, with Ginny looking so pretty, with Ginny's hand clasped in his, he was finding it impossible to lie to her. "And because I wanted to dance with you."

Harry hadn't thought it possible, but Ginny's face turned an even darker shade of scarlet. Ginny probably would have bolted from the dance floor, except for the fact that she was now clutching Harry's hand even more desperately.

When the Weird Sisters finished playing, Harry took a half step away from Ginny. Even though another uptempo song was beginning, Ginny made no move to dance. She seemed dumbfounded.

"Are you okay?" Harry said.

"What?" Ginny blinked several times, as if struggling to focus her eyes.

"Why don't we go for a walk," Harry said. He held out his elbow, and Ginny automatically placed her hand on Harry's arm. "Get some fresh air."

"That sounds nice."

The dance floor was crowded, and as they left Harry kept hold of Ginny's hand so that they wouldn't be separated by the crowd. As they left the Great Hall and moved into the entranceway, Harry did not let go of Ginny's hand. Harry was nervous, and his nervousness manifested itself in an intense focus on his hand. It was like everything in the world depended upon the fact that he was holding Ginny's hand. If Ginny pulled her hand away, Harry was certain that he would immediately die of embarrassment and crumble into dust.

But Ginny did not pull her hand away.

The massive front doors of Hogwarts stood open, and the air in the doorway shimmered with a warming charm that was keeping the chill of winter at bay. As Harry led Ginny through the doors and into the cold, Harry heard Ginny's breath catch in her throat. Harry instinctively slipped his dress cloak off and wrapped it around Ginny's shoulders.

"You don't need to do that," Ginny said.

"I have long sleeves," Harry said. "And it's the gentlemanly thing to do." Inwardly, Harry was cursing. To take off his cloak, he had to release Ginny's hand, and now there was no easy way to grab hold again.

Harry and Ginny walked toward the gardens. Heavy snow covered the grass, but the walking path was kept clear by Hogwarts house elves. The gardens were lit with fairy lights, revealing snow-covered topiary animals and evergreen bushes. Couples were seated together on the various benches of the gardens, huddled together for warmth and the occasional stolen kiss.

Harry was extremely aware that only a few inches separated his hand from Ginny's, but that distance seemed like a hundred miles. Maybe he could casually bump her hand with his own. Whoops, our hands hit and then our fingers got all tangled up, I don't know what happened.

"Is that all this is?" Ginny asked suddenly.

"Wait. What?" Harry had completely lost track of the conversation.

"All this. Tonight. Is all of this just the gentlemanly thing to do? Are you doing all this just because I'm your date, and this is what dates are supposed to be like? Or because you don't want to offend Ron?"

"Of course that isn't it," Harry said. They had moved farther into the gardens, among the rose bushes. There was hardly anybody around, now. Nobody was ahead of them on the path, and the last couple was several steps behind.

"Then why?" Ginny's voice was strong, like it was at the beginning of the night, before her fight with Pansy. "Why did you do all this?"

"Because I wanted to," Harry said. "Is there something wrong with that? Isn't a nice night what you wanted?" Why was Ginny questioning all this? Just because Harry was a Slytherin didn't mean that he was constantly scheming.

"I wanted… I mean… Of course I wanted…" Ginny frowned. "Don't turn this back on me!"

"I'm not trying to," Harry said. "I just want to know why you're upset that you had a nice night." Ahead of them on the path, Harry heard voices. A hushed conversation, coming closer. And the voices sounded familiar.

"I'm not upset about having a nice night. I just want to know why you're doing all this."

"Because I wanted to," Harry repeated. Hadn't he been clear the first time?

"But why did you want to?"

Harry fell silent. For all that he had done to prepare for the Yule Ball, he hadn't spent a lot of time thinking about his feelings or motivations. He had just… done things. But they were the right things. So why was Ginny acting like he had done something wrong?

The approaching voices were much closer now, just around the bend of a path, obscured by several large rose bushes. Harry recognized them—Professor Snape and Igor Karkaroff. Two former Death Eaters, far away from the crowds, late at night, talking in low voices… Harry was struck by the sudden need to know what was being said.

"Harry? Are you going to answer me?"

"Shh." Harry hushed Ginny. "Listen." Harry crept closer to the turn of the path, trying to keep his feet silent on the loose stones. After a moment, Ginny followed.

"…should stop making such a fuss, Igor." Snape was speaking in the condescending tone he usually reserved for Gryffindors.

"This is more than mere fussing!" Karkaroff was on the verge of panic. "You can't deny that it has been getting clearer and clearer for months! He is returning, Severus. How can you be so unconcerned?"

"I will take what action I deem appropriate," Snape said coolly.

"So you already have a plan." Karkaroff's voice dropped further. Harry inched forward, struggling to hear. "Does it involve the boy? I'm willing to help."

"Stay away from Potter," Snape hissed. "If you interfere with Potter or the tournament in any way, it will turn out badly for you."

"I didn't mean-"

"I understood what you meant," Snape said. "Just as you understand me, now. I have not lived so long under Dumbledore's thumb that I have forgotten my past. You know my capabilities, and the limits of my patience. Test neither."

There was the sound of scattering stone, and it took Harry a moment to realize that Snape was walking away from Karkaroff. Toward Harry. Harry couldn't be discovered snooping in Snape's business. As the crunch of footsteps approached the corner of the rosebushes, Harry turned to Ginny and did the first thing that came to mind.

He wrapped Ginny in his arms and kissed her.

"POTTER!" Snape's voice exploded out of the night. "What are you doing here?!"

Harry pulled away from Ginny. Her face was flooded with mixed emotions. Confusion, astonishment, joy, anger, more confusion…

"Sorry, sir," Harry said, turning toward Snape. "I didn't realize that there would be anybody so far out in the rose gardens." He smiled sheepishly. "It seemed like a good idea…"

Snape leaned down toward Harry, his face grim. "You are wrong, Potter. It would be a good idea for you and Ms. Weasley to return to the castle. Immediately."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her toward the castle. Ginny didn't respond, at first, and only began to walk when Harry nearly pulled her off her feet.

"Harry, what was that?" Ginny asked, once they were away from Snape. They had left the frowning professor behind in the darkness, and Harry was still pulling Ginny rapidly toward the castle.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "It was the only thing I could think of. If Snape caught us eavesdropping…"

"I don't mean THAT," Ginny said. "I meant, what were Snape and Karkaroff talking about?"

Harry knew. Or, at least, he had a good idea. He was returning. Voldemort. The words of Trelawney's prediction echoed in his ear: The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than he ever was…

"It's nothing," Harry said. "You should forget about it."

"That was not nothing," Ginny said, pulling her hand from Harry's. "If it was nothing, you wouldn't have kissed me."

"Er…"

"That's right, I can say it out loud." Ginny's hands were on her hips, now.

"Look, Ginny, I didn't mean anything…"

"There are only two reasons for you to kiss me, Harry Potter. One is that you fancy me. The other is because you were eavesdropping on something important, and you were scared of being caught. So which one is it? Which thing wasn't important, Harry? The conversation? Or me?"

Harry was dumbstruck. His mouth was literally hanging open. He had no idea how to respond.

Ginny threw her arms up in the air. "For Merlin's sake!" She stormed forward and poked a finger into Harry's chest. "You'd better figure out why you're doing what you're doing. Tonight was a nice show, Potter, but Weasleys care about substance."

Ginny pulled Harry's dress cloak off her shoulders and threw it at his face. When Harry pulled the cloak away, Ginny was already several steps away, storming through the entrance to the castle. Harry let her go; he didn't have the answers that she wanted.