Footsie

Sitting in front of me were my two favorite boys. One, I could safely say the love of my life, and the other, my favorite brother and one of my best friends. One with ebony hair and one with scarlet, matching mine.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He stared at his sheet of parchment and back to his books a few times. Potions or History of Magic, no doubt.

He was so cute. The jet-black hair upon his head stuck out in every direction possible. Emerald green orbs darted around in the book, almost asking for help.

"Bloody History of Magic," he said. When it came to Harry, I was always correct.

He rummaged through his bag to find another piece of parchment to re-start his assignment. When wasn't crumpled enough, he laid it out in front of him and began to scribble his name in extra large handwriting.

The boy with red hair was ignoring his homework and proceeded to look out the library window, over the trees of the Forbidden Forest. Tapping his outstretched hand, I brought him to his senses.

"What's wrong?" I asked. He shook his head and yawned. "You've been staring out of that window for the past fifteen minutes."

He cleared his throat. Was Ronald Weasley actually nervous? Where was his Gryffindor courage? "You guys will laugh at me."

Harry dropped his quill and I bookmarked my page in Quidditch Through the Ages. The Wronski feint could wait. I shook't, and urged him to continue.

"The Yule Ball's coming up."

I gulped and nodded. "Yes, Dumbledore announced it at supper last night."

"Speaking of supper, that was one damn good ham! We've got to go to the kitchens and steal that some time, Harry..." Ron said a bit too loudly for the library.

"Ron! We're in a library. Keep it down!" I whispered hoarsely.

Ron winced and squinted his eyes a bit. "You sound like Mum, Ginny."

His words had an impact on me. I didn't want to be a strict as Mum. No one spoke for a moment until Ron continued talking.

He cleared his throat again, starting to sound like that evil, terrible Umbridge. "Anyway, I need your advice."

Harry and I watched him in anticipation.

"I want to ask Hermione."

Yes. Finally. I tried to stop myself from bursting with happiness. It was about time he asked her out.

A faint smile twitched on Harry's lips. "Well, I did suspect that you would have noticed her before sixth year, but then again, you realized she was a girl when we were in our fourth year. So things even out."

I flicked a loose tendril fiery hair over my shoulder. "What Harry said," I agreed.

"You have my blessing," Harry added, with a smirk as I giggled.

Ron nodded vigorously as he blushed a dangerous shade of crimson. "Right. I should have known. I am the thickest guy on the planet, after all."

We all seemed to be going back to our work when Ron spoke out yet again.

"Er... so, Harry, who are you asking?" I tore my eyes from Quidditch Through the Ages. My full attention was on the green-eyed black-haired boy in front of me.

He sort of tilted his head to the side and rubbed his temples, as if to remember if he had a date. "No one." I released a breath I didn't realize I had been holding a little too loudly. My face turned a shade of pink when two sets of eyes looked at me suspiciously. As quickly as possible, I buried myself under yet again.

My concentration was soon broken as a foot accidentally collided with my own. I peered under the table and identified the foot as Harry's, and my stomach did a somersault. A scene played out in my head: in a few seconds he would apologize for the accident and go back to work.

But he didn't.

Instead, he foot tapped my ankle on each side and settled back to where it was above my toes. Was this happening?

My heart was probably beating an average of gazillion kilometers a second.

I saw him staring at the same place in his textbook, his eyes not moving a centimeter. There was a small grin playing on his lips. This really was happening...

I tilted my head down and slid my foot other foot on top of his, even surprising myself with this action. The heat radiating from the bottom of his shoe into mine was so intense that it went through the leather to the tips of my hair, making me blush even harder. As if that were humanly possible.

"But there is somebody I like."

At that, I looked up at Harry to find him staring intensely into my eyes. Neither of us broke the contact.

There's somebody I like, too.

Ron cleared his throat. It looked like Mr. Thick had actually noticed something this time, not like this was hard to miss. Too bad it was at this one moment.

Even through this action, we didn't move.

Harry wouldn't be dateless this Yule Ball.