𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐞 | 𝐇.𝐏.

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟒 - 𝟔

Weasley sighed and turned to Potter. "Look, we've just got to grit our teeth and do it," he said with a tone of voice that made it sound as if he was going into battle, not asking a girl to a dance. "Tonight, when we get back to the common room, we'll both have partners. Agreed?"

Potter tried to agree, but Snape sent both their heads down into the table.

Later that day I ran into Potter going the opposite direction. "Watch where you're going, Potter," I grinned, and began to walk back down the corridor. 

After a moment Potter called out, "Alexandra, wait!"

I turned around. "It's freezing and you've already given me a concussion. What more could you possibly want?" I asked, with a teasing air to my voice.

"Erm... well, I- I just wondered if maybe... ifmaybeyouwantedtogototheballwithme," he stuttered out.

I raised my eyebrows. "Sorry, I didn't catch that." 

"I was just... wondering... if maybe you wanted to go to the ball. With me, obviously. I wouldn't be asking if it was for someone else, because it's... me... that wants to go with you, I mean," he stumbled out.

I couldn't help the small smile that crept onto my face. "Oh, I thought you were asking for Weasley. Glad you cleared that up."

"So, will you go with me?" He asked meekly.

I smiled bigger now. "Why not."

"Brilliant," Potter beamed. "Well... good. Great, actually. I'll- I'll see you later, then."

"See you later, Potter," I said, and turned back around, my chest swelling more with every step I took.

That night, back in our dorms, I was telling Hermione everything.

"It was cute, actually," I said, my face betraying me. "He could barely even speak in full sentences."

"You're blushing," Hermione laughed.

"I am not," I argued, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You are," she replied, flipping over onto her stomach. "So, you and Potter."

"It's not me and Potter," I scoffed. "It's a ball. Do you know how many balls my mother made me go to since I was old enough to walk?"

"I can imagine," she sighed. Then she looked stern. "I'm going to make sure he doesn't give you any funny business," she said harshly. "One wrong move and I'll ruin his hair."

"Harsh," I laughed. Then I realized who else I would have to explain this to. "You sound like Draco," I grumbled. "Speaking of which, I'm anticipating his reaction when he finds out."

"That'll be fun," Hermione agreed, and we walked down to the common room together. As we entered, so did Weasley, through the portrait hole, accompanied by a group of third year girls comforting him and holding his arms.

"It's alright, Ron," Ginny was saying. "It- it doesn't matter, really."

"What happened to you?" Potter asked, standing up at the sight of Weasley's horrified expression and pale face.

"He just asked Fleur Delacour out," Ginny answered.

"What?" I asked in disbelief as we rushed over.

"What did she say?" Potter questioned.

"No, of course," Hermione guessed. Weasley closed his eyes and shook his head.