Miss Quinn

165 ~ The Christmas Party

In the week following the Quidditch Match, Hermione and Ron didn't say a word to each other, and Hermione's spot at the Breakfast table was instead taken by Lavender Brown, who had somehow fixed herself to Ron's lips at the after party and barely left his side ever since. Emma wasn't entirely sure what had happened, really. She and Venus had both been under the impression that Ron and Hermione had something going on. But apparently that wasn't the case. Or at least, Lavender had jumped in the way before either of them made a move.

Emma didn't have a problem with Lavender. Yes, she and Parvati had a habit of giggling about boys late into the night, and were perhaps too invested in Divination for Emma's taste. But overall, she'd never had any issues with the other girl, and thought she was nice and pretty as anyone else. Still, she wouldn't have paired Lavender up with Ron Weasley. Especially not in the way they had. Public displays of affection were all well and good in moderation, but those two hardly came up for air, and Emma didn't particularly enjoy being around them when they were eating one anothers' faces off.

Snow was swirling against the icy windows once more; Christmas was approaching fast. Hagrid had already singlehandedly delivered the usual twelve Christmas trees to the Great Hall; garlands of holly and tinsel had been twisted around the banisters of the stairs; everlasting candles glowed from inside the helmets of suits of armor and great bunches of mistletoe had been hung at intervals along the corridors. Emma avoided those spots in the corridors as much as possible, mainly because of the gaggle of girls that always seemed to convene there whenever Harry walked by, or any other attractive male for that matter.

With the approach of Christmas also came Slughorn's Party, which Emma didn't have a date for and couldn't think of a single person she'd like to take besides the one she couldn't have. But it seemed her disinterest in the male species wasn't as obvious to those idiotic males as it was to herself. The number of boys who asked her to take them to Slughorn's party was prolific. Some, like Neville, she turned down gently, explaining that she wasn't going to bring anyone. Others, like the Ravenclaw boy she'd never seen before in her life, she simply denied and hurried away as fast as she could.

She thought about going with Harry. It made sense: they both didn't have dates, and didn't want to find someone new. And it would annoy Draco, probably... but if Emma was having trouble avoiding men, Harry was drowning in hopeful women. And Emma didn't particularly feel like being the object of envy, or hearing rumors about her and Harry being together.

"I wish I could just go alone and not have it be weird," Emma confessed to Venus one evening.

Venus shrugged. "Well, you could... people might stare at you, but at least you won't be tied to one person for the whole evening."

"I wouldn't mind having a date if I actually liked the person and wouldn't have to deal with people commenting on our supposed relationship."

"Oh, the woes of fame," teased Venus, wiping invisible sweat from her forehead. Emma chuckled and laid back on her bed, staring at the scarlet canopy above her. Her mind dissolved into thought as she replayed every scene of a boy asking her to be her date. Why was she expected to have a date at all? Why did she feel so much pressure to pick a boy and be done with it? If only she could just take Venus... they'd have a blast. They could wear matching dresses and make snide comments about everyone else, and hang out by the food table munching on snacks and avoiding conversation with other people.

"Do you want to go?" Emma asked suddenly, breaking the steady silence.

"Go where?"

"To Slughorn's Christmas Party," Emma clarified, sitting back up.