Fitzsimmons

Seventh Year- Part Six

Quick Note: I followed the relationship development of Harry and Ginny in the sixth book, to be honest.

Also, try reading McGonagal's parts in Maggie Smith's voice. Or Tyler Brunsman if that's your thing. (Original Harry Potter Movies, A Very Potter Senior Year)

SHOUTOUT TO THE WONDERFUL TEAM IAIN! YOU LADIES ARE WONDERFUL! I'VE HAD SO MUCH FUN!

Iain Da Cheescake.

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"Okay, I'm coming out now. Don't you dare say I'm beautiful." Jemma called from inside her room, her hand on the cold metal of the door handle.

"No promises." She practically heard Fitz's grin. With a silent laugh, she turned the knob and stepped out in the navy ballet flats she had managed to convince Lucy she could wear instead of heels. Jemma looked Fitz over quickly. He was wearing the traditional black dress robes with minimal frill. Jemma nearly sighed with relief. Fitz wouldn't be extremely distracting tonight. Still distracting, just avoidably distracting.

"Sorry, but you're beautiful." Fitz whispered in awe, his eyes trailing from the bottom of her dress to the top.

"Shut up." Jemma said, laughing. She did the mandatory twirl so Fitz could see the rest of her simple dress. Fitz linked arms with her, and they began to walk to the Great Hall together.

"No, but you really are." he kept saying. Jemma just smiled and shook her head. It was like she was in a movie. Jemma's own little Rom Com.

Their silent walk to the Great Hall was very cinematic until they reached the final staircase down. In a movie, all of the students' heads would turn her way and fall silent as they stared at her in awe. The ball had already started, though, and all the students had crowded around the stage as a wizard rock band played music horribly inappropriate to the beautifully decorated hall, throwing the whole climate off. As piercing notes blared through the crowds, soft color-changing ribbons hung from the starry ceiling.

"How sophisticated." Jemma commented sarcastically, her eyes skipping over a few couples dancing much too close. Fitz laughed, drawing out a small giggle from Jemma.

"Okay, before we start, a few rules," Fitz turned towards Jemma, lightly holding one hand with his. "No asking me to get punch; that always ends bad in the movies. No dancing better than me,"

"That won't be a problem." Jemma interrupted, smiling.

"Shush!" Fitz yelled over the loudness of the crowd and the music. "And no getting separated. I don't care if some puts you in a burlap sack and tries to carry you away. You'll be staying by my side."

"Okay. But I doubt there's a burlap sack big enough for both of us." Jemma retorted playfully.

"We'll make due. Now, may I have this dance?" Fitz asked, bowing so low that his curls brushed against the skirt of Jemma's dress.

"Too cliché." Jemma made sure she sounded overly offended, then turned her nose up and away.

"Dance with me!" Fitz demanded in response, grabbing Jemma's hand once again and pulling her onto the makeshift dance floor, just outside the mosh pit of elegantly dressed witches and wizards, where they started dancing a horribly mismatched waltz to four four time.

Fitz kept stepping on her feet. Jemma didn't complain. It meant he was physically close to her.

After a few more songs of dancing such horrendous dances as the drunken giraffe, the terribly stereotypical Western America square dance, and the conga line of two, they stumbled off of the floor and to the snacks table set up near the back.