Chapter 1: All This Date Talk Ain't For You, Eh?

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Study hall in the Great Hall was never a worry for the most part. There were more people and everybody was together, which was definitely distracting from the work but made for a fun time.

However, the days Snape patrolled the tables like a lieutenant were the ones everybody dreaded. With the holiday break drawing near in just another hour, even Snape's crabby attitude in hitting people with books couldn't dampen our mood. Snape had assigned seats, conveniently separating you from the twins, your best friends you typically sat with.

You were seated between Seamus Finnigan and Roger Davies, a Ravenclaw a couple years above you, which was a lot better than who Hermione Granger ended up with—next to Draco Malfoy and the Slytherins.

Snape had left a stack of books and little instruction about what he wanted in the lab-formatted notebook, so you were busy spreading out your words as much as possible to fill the page and absentmindedly tapping your quill tip against the table. There was a hushed chatter as people looked out for Snape walking by.

You felt someone tap the corner of your parchment.

"Have you thought about who you're taking?" Harry Potter, seated across from you, whispered. You sat up a bit, raising an eyebrow, not expecting the question.

"To the ball, you mean? Not really...I haven't thought about it that much." This time it was Harry who looked surprised.

"Really? It seems every girl can't stop talking about it. I don't like the idea either."

You scoffed lightly. "You don't have to pretend a dance is such a horrible idea just because you haven't landed a date, Harry. I get it."

Harry half glared, half sighed and ducked his head for a minute as Snape threw a sharp look at you two.

"I reckon people think because I'm the 'ChOsEn oNe' I should have no problem landing one."

You chuckled. "Guess you're only chosen for some things." Harry reached to push your shoulder, but Snape's book got to him first.

It was true you hadn't thought too much about the Yule Ball, but it wasn't entirely because you thought the idea was stupid, hypocritically to what you had said to Harry just now. You had seen all these giggly older girls "traveling in packs" (as Ron described it), pointing out different guys to each other and squealing whenever someone did ask them.

You weren't really friends with any of those girls; you typically hung with the twins or Gryffindors in your year. But you also thought it was understandable why they would be excited. Despite never really considering lovey-dovey stuff where it concerned yourself, the recent environment was making a small part of you wonder what it would be like to be asked. You had never really gotten an opportunity before, and this was the perfect one. There were hundreds of people in Hogwarts. It wasn't unlikely for you to find a pair.

Out of curiousity, you turned to your other study partners.

"Roger, got anyone in mind for the ball?" Roger frowned with his teeth, putting down his quill and rubbing his hands together.

"You know, I've been thinking about asking one of those Beauxbatons girls for weeks, but from what I've been seeing, they've all got such high standards I don't stand a chance."

You rolled your eyes and shook at his arm.

"Obviously you do, have you seen yourself? The most gentlemen of gentlemen. Give Fleur Delacour a try," you added knowingly.

"W-what?" Roger looked alarmingly at you. "You think I can win over someone who's a Triwizard Champion? And is part veela?" You shook your head with a "trust me".

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