What if...

A Ball to Remember

It was one week before the Yule Ball, and Ron was getting desperate.

He would never admit it, but finding a date had been a little harder than he had anticipated. For one, the Veela had turned him down. Ron understood that she didn't want to make their affections public just yet, so relented. After asking her a few more times, of course.

Then, Hermione had also said no, claiming that she 'had a magical soulmate'. It made him laugh at the time. As if someone like her could ever get a date, let alone a soulmate. He even offered to go instead and got denied. It was obvious she was paying Potter, though he hadn't a clue what with.

Maybe she had stolen the money!

The thought brought a grin onto Ron's pudgy face. Since she had stolen the money, he could use it for his own purposes. Ron nodded to himself, thinking it through. It was a hard task, but eventually, he came up with his fourth brilliant plan.

First, he would let her know that he knew. Have her scared. Then, he would corner her and threaten her, saying that if she did not go with him, he would out her secret. She would be embarrassed and say yes, because girls loved it when guys were persistent, and they would go to the ball together and leave Potter fuming. It was foolproof.

Then, he spotted Susan Bones walking with Hannah Abbot towards him. 'Maybe I should give the Hufflepuffs a chance.' Ron thought, watching her chest bounce as she moved.

___________________________

Two days before the Yule Ball, and Ron still didn't have a date!

He couldn't find Hermione anywhere. Granted, he hadn't really been looking, but she should have came to him. Their classes had long since ended for Christmas break, but barely anybody had left the castle in favour of going to the Yule Ball.

He just couldn't understand how she had said no. He was Ron Weasley. Every witch's ideal wizard.

He was shovelling food into his mouth when Errol, the family owl, descended and promptly crashed into the plate, sending it all over an angry Ron.

"Stupid bloody bird." He scowled, ripping the letter from Errol's beak, who flapped off, happy with himself. He wasn't nearly as clumsy as he appeared. He just enjoyed tormenting the idiot.

Ron opened the letter, idly eating something he found on his shoulder as he did so. His eyes bulged as he read its contents.

Dear Ronnikins,

Your sister has told me that you haven't found a date to the Yule Ball yet. Not to worry, dear, I've found a solution.

I've just been on a floo call with your Aunt Muriel, and she's agreed to be your date if nobody else will! Isn- there was a food stain there- -at wonderful?! Your sister's idea, of course, so be sure to thank her.

Remember, dear, mummy loves you. Those girls in Hogwarts don't know what they're missing.

Love, Mummy.

Ron threw the letter into his food and stormed over to Ginny, who was at the other end of the table and eyed his appearance amusedly.

"What's the bloody idea?!" He accused loudly, utilising no tact whatsoever as the entire hall heard him. "Writing to mum! Little snitch!" He jabbed a finger into her face.

"Well, maybe if you'd found a date instead of getting rejected every time, I wouldn't have had to." Ginny didn't even look at him, continuing to eat.

"I do have a date." Ron lied. His sister snorted, putting her fork down.