Exhausted, embarrassed, and exasperated I collapse into the seat beside Ron, sighing loudly and over-dramatically. He gives me a look of confusion whereas the twins that sit together on his right side appear rejoiced. Darn it.
I completely forgot that I had promised the two of them a dance. A promise, mind you, worth a fair bit of effort for Ron to merely sit around moping all night, hardly even acknowledging his dates that I had gotten him. Regardless, I suppose a promise is a promise. So after only having sat down for maybe five seconds, I'm back on my feet, extending my arms to the Patil twins and heading back onto to the dance floor.
We return a few minutes later and I slump back into my seat. Sighing and throwing my head back, I grow entranced in staring at the snowflakes, rather the illusion of snowflakes, falling from the enchanted roof.
Ron mumbles something that I'm unable to hear, from lack of volume or my ability to zone out of almost any situation I'm unsure. "Sorry, what was that?"
Ron looks the slightest bit irritated. As though it's an nuisance that he has to repeat himself. "I said thanks," he says quietly.
I search my mind before I reply, wondering where this 'thanks' is coming from, only to come up dry. "Thanks for what?"
Ron rolls his eyes, glancing beside him to ensure the twins aren't engaging with the two of us and leans in just in case. "Come on, Harry. You really expected me to believe that I scored both of the Patil twins from my own doing, without even doing anything?"
Shoot.
"I. . . uh. . ."
Busted.
In a panicked matter I rack my brain for something, anything, that can explain why I felt the need to meddle. A nicer way of saying 'well quite honestly it looked like you were struggling in the finding a date department and y/n came up with this idea so that you wouldn't have to show up to the Yule Ball alone.'
Thankfully, Ron raises his hand, a half smile on his face. "Stop thinking so hard your brain isn't used to it."
Ouch, but I'll take the hit because really, I've got nothing.
"You're a good friend, Harry," he sighs. "And I appreciate it, though it probably doesn't seem it. I've been a terrible date all night."
"May I have your arm?"
Ron and I turn to see a Durmstrang boy kneeling before Parvati Patil.
Parvati nearly bounds out of her seat. "Arm? Leg? I'm yours."
