The Switch (pjo/hp)

Chapter 12: Why Can't Anything Be Easy?

"The Yule Ball," McGonagall said. "Is a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament. On the night of Christmas, we and our guests shall gather in the Great Hall, for a night of friendship, and a well-mannered frivolity. It is an occasion for letting our hair down." Percy fought furiously with himself not to snort, as McGonagall hair was always in a tight bun. "As representatives of the House of Godric Gryffindor, I will not have you prancing off like a babbling, bumbling, band of baboons."

"Say that five times, faster," the Weasley twins grinned, as McGonagall continued.

"Now first and foremost, the Yule Ball is a dance. Inside every girl a dainty swan slumbers, awaiting to stretch her wings and take a flight. Inside every boy a lordly lion slumbers waiting to prance," she said. That was way too poetic, and Percy didn't really understand what it had to do with everything, but at least it was good poetry. Percy could recall he had some bad experiences with some nasty poetry—specifically haikus. He shuddered at the thought.

"Mr.Weasley." She said as she approached Ron.

"Yes?"

"Put your arm around my waist."

"Pardon?" Ron said, embarrassed. Percy had a really hard time not bursting into fits of laughter.

"Around my waist Mr.Weasley."

Filch put on some slow music, and McGonagall showed them the basic moves. Ron kept trying to remove his arm from around her waist, but McGonagall just slapped it back on. "Everyone find a partner and join in." A bunch of girls got up, giggling. Some guys got up, too, and gradually, most of the room was dancing in pairs. Percy decided to just stay where he was and hope no one would come to him.

"I want no one sitting!" McGonagall commanded as she continued dancing with an embarrassed Ron.

Percy muttered a few curse words, some in different languages he didn't know he could speak—he didn't even know what languages they were, or if they were more than one. He tried looking around to find someone to dance with, but it was harder than fighting a dragon (he can make that comparison, as he just fought one).

"Wanna dance?" Percy looked up to see Draco Malfoy, his hand extended. "Better than dancing with a stranger, no?"

"Yeah," Percy said thankfully as he took Draco's hand. At first, their dance was very awkward, probably because Percy couldn't slow-dance to save his life. Slowly, they relaxed a little, and the dance became a bit more comfortable. "You're a great person, Draco," Percy said abruptly.

Draco stared at him, stunned. "What?"

"I hear lots of people talking negative things about you," Percy said softly. "I guess not many people see this side of you."

"I guess," Draco agreed.

"Why not?" Percy inquired. "You're a much better person than you let on, so try to show it."

"I- "

"Alright, everyone. Time for your next class," McGonagall interrupted.

Some people ran out of there like their lives were at risk in the room, and some groaned, disappointed.

He smiled to himself as he left the hall. He was gradually trusting Draco more and more. He was such a great friend—always there for Percy, stood next to him when nobody else would—pretty lucky.

That smile was instantly wiped off of his face because 1) it finally occurred to him that he would have to ask someone out, which nearly gave him a nervous breakdown just thinking about it, and 2) his next lesson was  Potions. Ugh.

"Hey," Hermione's voice said. He turned to face her and saw Ron, whose face was almost as red as his hair was.

"Hey, Hermione," Percy greeted. "Ron, seems like you enjoyed your dance," he said with a teasing tone. If it was possible, Ron blushed harder.