Cursed | Draco Malfoy

Eight

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

She gave the boy a small glare as he stepped on her foot for the millionth time. Hermione had been trying to teach Harry the waltz, but Merlin! This boy had two left feet and was the most awkward dancing partner you could think of.

"It's two back, one right!" Harry's palm began to slightly sweat in hers and she grimaced. Just moments before he had been rushing into the Gryffindor common room, fear plastered all over his face as he begged Hermione to teach him to dance.

When the boy messed up once again, she couldn't help but laugh. Her poor friend was a nervous wreck. He had asked Ginny Weasley to the Christmas Eve ball, and of course she said yes — leaving a very distraught Harry as he thinks everything needs to be perfect.

As for Hermione, Dean Thomas ended up asking out the head-girl. Of course she had said yes, but her and Dean had agreed to just go as friends. "Who'd you recon Ron is bringing?" She asked, as Harry twirled her in and away from his arms — she let out a small giggle when he caught her once again.

Harry shrugged, "I'm not sure, I know the bugger's stressed over it though."

Almost as on cue, Ron came bursting in — he practically looked frightened, as he was panting. Hermione's dark eyebrows rose as she scanned him, "Ron, what're you doing?" He wore a Gryffindor knit sweater that was velvet, as he pulled at it nervously. He heaved up and down, until he finally walked over to his bed and laid down; hugging his knees to chest as he curled and hugged a pillow.

Harry and Hermione tore away form each-other and gave eachother a look before they began inching closer to him. "Ron?" muttered Harry.

When there was no reply, Hermione pressed a hand to his pale, revealed arm and shook him. "Ronald!" She whisper-shouted.

Again, when there was no response — she took a pillow and whacked him in face, immediately, the pale, freckled boy shot up, still hugging the crimson pillow.

His was face was filled worry and distraught, as he gazed off into the distance. "Ron, what happened?" Harry asked strongly, clearly now he had been worried for his friend.

"Lavender Brown asked me to the ball."

Hermione couldn't hide the surprise that filled her expressions, as her and Harry gave each other a shocked look. "What?" spat Harry.

Ron placed the pillow back on his bed, before getting up and pacing. "Lavender brown asked me, but I don't want to go with her. She's a lunatic!" He expressed, "she's so obsessed with me, bloody hell, I don't even know why!" He ran a hand through his ginger hair.

"Can I ask a question?" muttered Harry. Ron looked at him with his hands on his hips.

"Go on then."

"If you don't like her, then why not just say no?" Harry asked with a slight high voice.

Ron exhaled frustratingly, "I cant! I already said yes," He exploded with hand gestures.

Hermione made a face, "why the bloody hell would you say yes if you don't even like the girl? Are you idiotic Ronald Weasley?"

Ron groaned, "because she wouldn't leave me alone, blimey!" exclaimed Ron, "I kept trying to walk away from her, but she kept following me around like I was her father in a maze," Then, he sat down with a huff, as his blue marine gaze switched between me and Harry.

Hermione tried to muffle her laugh, which enraged Ron even more. "It's not funny, Hermione! She's crazy, and bloody obsessed with me," the boy thundered.

Hermione shrugged, "it's just for one night, Ron." Of course, Lavender Brown was known for being a tiny bit weird, as she did often have hyper-fixations like these. She was sorted into Gryffindor just like the rest of them, she couldn't recall having at least one conversation with the girl though. She found her a little tipsy, but she in no way, hated the girl.