Harry Potter and The 7th Year Proposal

Chapter 11 - The Yule Ball

The Yule Ball

The night of the Yule Ball came. Harry pulled on his dress robes halfheartedly. Ron, however, was more anxious as he got ready.

"Bloody hell, Harry! What am I s'pose to do with these?" he held up a pair of cuff links.

Harry shrugged. Ron let out a yell of frustration. "I can't let Hermione see me as a mess tonight!"

"You do every other night," Harry shrugged.

"Shut up, Harry."

"Alright," he said dully.

Ron's expression immediately softened, "Listen, mate, Teddy'll be alright, and tonight is going to be great!"

"Yeah."

A half hour later they were walking down the steps to the common room. Hermione wasn't there yet so they waited for her by the girl's dormitory door.

Ron was either asking Harry whether or not he had something in his teeth or frantically patting down the hair on his head, when he stopped suddenly, hand hanging above his head in midair.

Hermione had just came down the steps and Ron gaped at her. She saw the sight of him and giggled. Ron, finally conscious of his arm, put it back down at his side.

Harry sank into the shadows as he so often did these days. Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to notice his disappearance.

"You–you look beautiful," he managed to choke out.

Hermione blushed and beamed all at the same time. "Thanks, Ron," she said slyly.

Ron held out his arm and she took it. He led her across the common room and through the portrait hole. Harry decided to give them a two minute head start (he didn't feel like gagging) and waited in the corner.

The common room was empty, everyone already being down at the Yule Ball, when Harry decided it was probably safe to head down himself. Then, he heard the clicking of heels coming down the stairs again and he stayed in the corner, waiting to see who it was. Then, as though he had entered one of his dreams, he saw Ginny walk into the common room. She was wearing a golden dress that fell to the floor. She wore her hair up halfway so that crimson ringlets fell over her bare shoulders.

"Ginny," Harry breathed, who couldn't help but hungrily take in this wonderful sight.

Ginny started, apparently she had not noticed Harry. "Harry!" she said, breathing fast.

"Ginny–you–you look gorgeous," he said quietly, stepping forward.

She stared at him with her bright, cinnamon brown eyes. He stepped closer. She didn't back away, but watched him, almost curiously, and he did not break her gaze. He stepped closer yet, their bodies inches apart. He looked down at her. He brushed his hand down the face he had so longed to touch for nearly four months. "Ginny..." he said again.

She held onto his hand that was holding her face. She stared back into his emerald green eyes. Harry leaned his face closer to hers and she moved forward slightly as well, her eyes closed.

Then, as though a loud fog horn had just blown in her ear she jumped backward, out of his reach.

"Michael!" she said hastily, half running, half tripping to the portrait hole. "Waiting–ball!"

Harry watch as she climbed through the protrait hole, leaving him there alone and rooted on the spot. What he had thought was going to be a dream, quickly turned into a dreadful nightmare.