A Time to Dance

A Time to Dance

For about the hundredth time that night, Neville stepped on Ginny's toes and she winced in pain again. She thought that going to the Yule Ball with people from the older years would make her seem cool and sophisticated. She thought she would have the time in her life. She thought wrong.

Instead, Ginny spent most of her night rubbing her aching toes and silently cursing herself for agreeing to come. She cursed Neville even more for asking her.

She took a look at Neville's face and decided she couldn't stay mad for long. He was having as hard a time with this as Ginny was having. In fact, he looked worse off than she did. He was in deep concentration, trying not to step on her toes again. Ginny immediately felt bad for thinking bad thoughts about him.

The song finally ended and she gave a sigh of relief mixed with exasperation. Much as she liked Neville, she still wished she could have gone with Harry, even though he never once paid attention to her. Actually, he would never even acknowledge her presence if it weren't for the fact that she was a Weasley. Anger started to boil in her. Who was he to feel superior to anybody, just because he was Harry Potter? Why did he have to spend all his time chasing after Cho when she was one of the snootiest wenches out there?

As another song struck up, Ginny looked down desperately to her toes. "I think I'm going to sit this one out and go to get some punch," she said to Neville.

"That's fine," he said. "Actually, I was going to go get some fresh air. It's really hot in here. Do you want to come with me?"

The thought of being alone outside with Neville - or any boy for that matter - scared her. "No thanks, Neville. I'm going to go check on my brother," she said quickly and walked away from him, before he could say anything else. Again, she felt bad for being rude. She really just had to get away.

Ginny strode over to the table where she had seen Ron and halted in mid-stride at the scene in front of her. There was Ron and Hermione standing, yelling at each other and both looking very red in the face. Ginny raised an eyebrow. She knew Hermione was mad at Ron, even though Hermione herself didn't know why (how could someone so smart be so clueless?). But obviously, something must have happened while she was dancing to have Hermione and Ron at each other's throats like this.

"This whole tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them," Hermione said hotly.

"No it isn't! It's about winning!" Ron shouted.

Ginny inched closer to get a better view and so that she could hear more clearly. She saw Harry say something but she couldn't hear what it was. He said it so quietly; it was like he was almost afraid to interrupt them. Ginny couldn't blame him. To interrupt Ron and Hermione right now might just prove fatal.

"Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are," said Ron.

"Don't call him Vicky!" Hermione yelled and leapt to her feet. She stormed off, not looking back.

Ginny was confused. She had obviously just caught the butt end of the fight. But from what she had heard and what other people were saying, Ron and Hermione really had it out and over Viktor Krum. It looked like her dear brother was smitten with a crush on his best friend. It also seemed like Hermione wasn't too far off from feeling the same way. The only ones, it seemed, who probably didn't know about it was them. How long would the stubborness last? Ginny laughed to herself. She would love to play matchmaker!

Ginny went back into the crowd, looking for Neville. Had he returned from the garden?

Suddenly, something big and hard bumped into Ginny and she was immediately knocked to the floor. She sat up, looking dazed and confused. When she realised what happened, she prepared herself to give out a good tongue lashing to the person who had been so clumsy and had knocked her off her sore feet. Next she would have a sore bum. She hoped she would be able to leave the Yule Ball with all her body parts still intact.

A hand reached out and grabbed hers. "I'm terribly sorry," came a masculine - a very masculine - voice from above. She felt herself being pulled up from the ground. She gazed up into grey eyes and a handsome face. They seemed vaguely familiar.

"Ginny Weasley, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes," she said breathlessly.

"I'm Michael Corner, from Ravenclaw," he said.

"Yes," Ginny breathed again.

He grinned a delicious smile that showed off his pearly whites. "Would you like to dance?" he asked as a slow song came on.

Ginny couldn't even say yes this time. She just followed him as he pulled her to the middle of the dance floor. Automatically, her arms went around his neck while his went around her waist. She danced in graceful little steps. Finally those dancing lessons in the living room mum had given her and her brothers (where she had been forced to dance with Ron) had paid off.

Suddenly, Ginny felt herself slip away from her crush with Harry. Standing here, dancing in the arms of a handsome boy had, for some reason, enlightened her on her situation. All these years, she mooned relentlessly over Harry, and for what? It was clearly unrequieted. And what did she really know about Harry, the real Harry? He obviously had many more elements to him that met the eye. So what's the point in having a crush on a person that she knew nothing about.

She could either spend the rest of her years here mooning over Harry or she could befriend him and take it from there. Ginny decided on the latter.

Ginny leaned her head on Michael's shoulder and sighed with contentment.