I hope our story has a happier ending

in wonderland

[tw: references to past sexual abuse at the end of this chapter]

Harry had mentioned in passing that he was worried about finding a date for the Yule Ball—apparently, McGonagall had made it clear to him all of the champions were traditionally expected to have one and lead the first dance.

He'd immediately asked Hermione, of course, but Viktor'd already beat him to the punch.

(Which, for the record, she wanted to say no to, knowing all the attention and gossip would fuel, but Draco had emotionally blackmailed her into agreeing, so here she is.)

Still, by the time she sees what he's about to do, there's no time to intervene—all she can do is face palm, cringing as she turns to Fred and George from her seat at a common room table. "Oh, god—this is about to go so poorly."

Fred follows her gaze. "What's he doing?"

"I believe he's about to ask Parvati to the ball." She cringes just saying it aloud.

George's jaw drops, eyes bright with laughter. "You're kidding. Has he had a head injury?"

"He's just genuinely that clueless."

Across the room, she hears Harry stutter out the words; she's almost proud of him for working up the courage, but under the circumstances...she grimaces.

Parvati and Lavender both burst into laughter, but they peter out when they realize he's not joking.

"Is he actually serious?" Parvati turns to Lavender in shock.

Lavender raises an eyebrow. "I think he is. Tragic, really—I'd hate to hex his pretty face."

"Er, sorry, am I missing something?"

Hermione winces, watching him look back and forth between the two of them.

"I'm wondering the same thing—Harry, what on earth would possess you to ask my girlfriend out right in front of me?"

He blinks at Lavender. "I—you're dating?"

"For months!" Parvati exclaims. "Harry, you've sat next to us at Quidditch matches while we held hands the entire time."

"Yes, I suppose, but—"

"We all watched that muggle moving picture on Dean's screen-typewriter thing and Lav and I cuddled on the loveseat."

He blushes. "I thought that was just what girls do with their friends!"

George bursts out laughing, drawing Harry's attention to him. "Blimey, Harry, now you sound like Rita Skeeter. Just 'gals being pals!', are they?"

Harry collapses onto the couch. "Did everyone know this but me?"

"We have eyes, so yes," Fred says.

Hermione raises an eyebrow. "Not to mention we're roommates and they share a bed most nights. Harry, I love you, but you're really the most oblivious person in the world. I think I could dye my hair fire-engine red without you noticing."

Lavender and Parvati slink out of the room, whispering to themselves, and Hermione climbs onto the couch next to Harry, stealing half of his throw blanket and scooting close to him.

"I think it's really for the better, Harry. Ginny wants to go to the ball, but can't unless she's an older student's date, and Blaise was hoping you might take her so that he knows she's safe and has a good time."

"Overprotective bastard," Harry grins. "That sounds fun, actually. I'd have a way better time hanging out with Ginny than someone I don't even know who just wants a date with the champion."