What if...

Mind Tricks

Harry stood still, perplexed. He was a quick learner and possessed great natural talent, but even he couldn't work out how to do this.

"The Yule Ball, to put it simply... is a dance." Professor McGonagall explained.

"What?!" Ron jumped up in anger. "I can't bloody dance, that's for girls!"

He, of course, missed the many angry looks directed at him from every girl in the room as he crossed his arms like a petulant (very large) child. Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley Dursley and sniggered quietly at the thought of the boy wobbling towards him, trying to look menacing.

In his first year, Ron had been much taller than Harry, due to his young, developing body and frequent feeding habits. But slowly, with the help of Hermione and Lady Longbottom, he had outgrown the boy, who had seemingly reached his limit vertically and had started filling out horizontally. Harry felt satisfied looking down at him. Even Colin Creevey was taller than Ron now. No one was wider, though. There were definitely people taller than him, like Dean Thomas and Anthony Goldstein, but Harry was perfectly comfortable with where he stood, literally.

"Your ineptitude is not my issue, Mister Weasley." Professor McGonagall gave him an especially stern look.

"What's that?" Ron squinted at the teacher, who rolled her eyes, wondering how he had been put into any house at all.

The professor gave an audible sigh, "Now, I would like all of the boys to please step to the right, and the girls to the left." She instructed. The class parted to each side and she stood in the middle. "Now, I would like a volunteer, please." She announced, causing most people to look to the floor, having no desire of being chosen. She tried located a child to torment. Mister Weasley hadn't turned in his homework, but she had no desire of being less than three feet from him at any given time. She swore his breath could kill flowers on contact.

She surveyed the rest of the boys, trying to decide which one to embarrass in front of the class.

"Ah, Mister Finnegan." She chose the young pyromaniac who was paying no attention whatsoever. He jumped at his name as the rest of the class laughed at his expense. He was led through a series of complex dance moves by the professor, who thought that the ridicule served him right for not paying attention.

Ron, on his part, was laughing his head off. Seamus shot him a dirty look, making him laugh harder. Harry was glad he was stood behind the rotund boy as spit started flying from his mouth in a way not unlike how his uncle would laugh. He silently wondered if Ron was a lost child of the Dursleys' and the Weasleys had adopted him out of the goodness of their hearts. It certainly explained why every other one of his siblings had some sort of talent and he had nothing.

"If you do not know how to dance, I suggest you learn." McGonagall said shortly. The lesson had come to a close and Seamus looked like he wanted to jump from the astronomy tower ten times over as Dean laughed. "Mister Weasley, a moment, if you will."

The boy puffed his chest up as the rest of the class left, clearly expecting some sort of distinction.

"Glad to see you've finally noticed my worth." He smirked, only to cower in front of her glare. "Professor." He added quickly.

"Weasley, the champions and their dates will be expected to open the ball." McGonagall explained. He nodded. "So I highly recommend you find one."

"Oh, that won't be a problem, I'll just ask that bookworm always ogling me." Ron shrugged carelessly as the professor's eye twitched. His arrogance and disrespect continued to astound her, especially towards her favourite student. Besides, if there was anyone she was always ogling, it was Mister Potter.