Chapter Text
Minerva McGonagall sighed, propping her chin on her hand in an unusually casual pose, and stared around the Great Hall. The Hogwarts Yule Ball would be concluding in just under a half-hour, and the room was nearly deserted. It was very late, and most of the students had found that the unchaperoned parties occurring in their common rooms or the soft beds in their dorms or even perhaps the castle’s various broom closets were better places to spend their night, and the Great Hall held only a small crowd of people. Minerva did not doubt that there were a multitude of arguments taking place at this very moment around the castle, and she had no wish to halt the drama, as it was a fair conclusion to the night’s events. Teenagers were teenagers, and she wouldn’t stop them from being stupid when it was their dearest wish.
Her eyes alighted on Harry Potter, sitting tiredly at an abandoned table, drumming his fingers on the tablecloth and staring into space. A flash of sympathy hit her - there was no specific reason she felt it. It just seemed that Harry always had a reason to be pitied, and that saddened her. Harry had done absolutely nothing wrong; in fact, he had spent his entire life doing everything right, and he was still cursed with danger and terror at every turn. Sitting up straighter, she examined the rest of the students. Several couples were waltzing around on the dance floor, their faces lit with a happy glow, and she knew that all of them had been dating before the ball and were taking the night as an extra chance for frivolity and fun. Other, mainly younger, kids were scattered around at various tables, some gazing forlornly at the dancers, others gazing unhappily at their companions.
Minerva’s eyes snagged on crimson hair, and she paused. Ginevra Weasley was sitting alone at a table, looking rather small and lonely and highly cross, if she was interpreting it correctly. Frowning, Minerva wondered where her date had gone. She knew that Ms. Weasley had attended with Neville Longbottom, but it seemed highly unlikely that Neville would have abandoned her. Minerva was slightly biased towards Mr. Longbottom, though; he was intelligent and showed incredible promise, and, most impressively, he was a truly good person. She knew that if Neville simply applied himself and had more confidence in his abilities, he would be fantastic. So, yes, she was biased towards him, but even from an unbiased perspective, it seemed impossible that Mr. Longbottom would have left Ms. Weasley behind.
At that moment, Peeves, the resident Hogwarts poltergeist, materialized over her shoulder, giggling gleefully. She chose to ignore him, and he swooped in front of her, annoyed by her lack of attention for him. “What in Merlin’s name are you cackling about, Peeves?” She asked, somewhat irritably. “Oh, just some clever prankies! Those twins are impressive!” He responded, his voice trembling with laughter. Minerva stiffened. There was only one pair of twins in the castle who would possibly be deemed “impressive” by Peeves: Fred and George Weasley. “Good gracious, Peeves, what have they gotten up to now?” She cried, trying and failing to consider all of the possibilities. “Oh, they were just looking after their sister, I’m sure!” Peeves grinned, “The Weasley brothers have been known to be rather protective of the baby of the family, dont’cha think?” Then, laughing hysterically, he disappeared.
Minerva slumped over. Well, that explained Mr. Longbottom’s absence and Ms. Weasley’s anger; Fred and George Weasley, in a bout of brotherly love, had pulled a debilitating prank on Neville Longbottom, no doubt forcing him to leave the ball early and resulting in Ginevra’s abandonment. Rolling her eyes at the toxic masculinity that every male Weasley seemed to show, she diverted her attention back to Ms. Weasley, just as one of the Weird Sisters stepped up to the microphone to inform them that the next song would be the last. At that moment, Mr. Potter rose from his seat. He crossed the room to Ginny’s table. He held out his hand to her. He murmured a few unintelligible words. He smiled a little awkwardly. The next thing Minerva knew, Ginny had risen gratefully from her seat and was being escorted to the dance floor by none other than Harry Potter.
***********************
Harry, meanwhile, was absolutely terrified. He had been staring up at the starry ceiling when the Weird Sisters had announced the last song. He was ready to call it a night and head up to bed, but then he had looked over and seen Ginny sitting alone, and his mind was made up before he could even think about what he was doing. Harry had seen Neville leave the Great Hall, limping and wincing all the way, and knew that Fred and George were behind it. At the time, Ginny had handled it well and continued to dance and chat, but Harry supposed that she had been hiding her disappointment for the sake of those around her. He knew that she had been looking forward to a fun night with her friends, and, by the looks of it, things weren’t going how she had hoped they would. Harry could’ve just walked up to the Gryffindor common room, but he decided that one last dance while barely anyone else was in the room would be tolerable if it meant that Ginny, at least, had a nice end to her night.
So he had steeled himself, set his things in the chair next to him, and hauled himself over to her table. She looked up, startled. “What is it, Harry?” She asked, one eyebrow quirking. Shifting uncomfortably, Harry held his palm out to her. “Would you like to dance, Ginny?” The words skipped out of his mouth, and he watched hers drop open a second later. Then, smiling sheepishly, he started retracting his hand, “If you don’t, that’s totally fine, we can call it a night-” He muttered, a little embarrassed. “No!” Ginny burst out, speeding through her words. “I’d love to, actually. Thank you, Harry.” She beamed at him, clasped his hand, and stood.
Harry was glad for her smile; it meant that this was a good idea and everything would be fine. Well, until they reached the dance floor. Only then did the predicament fully dawn on him. “Um, Ginny,” he whispered, “I don’t really know how to dance.” She chuckled as the Weird Sisters started their final tune and held out her hand for his, asking for permission with her eyes. He nodded, and she grasped his hands, placing one on her waist and the other in hers, and set her free hand on his shoulder. “Is this fine?” She whispered, looking for reassurance. “It’s just a simple waltz. All you really have to do is sway.” Harry nodded, gulping, and then the ballad began:
Talk
Let’s have conversations in the dark
World is sleeping, I’m awake with you
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t recognize the song, but everyone else on the dance floor was looking very cozy with their partners, and he felt stiff and awkward in comparison. Just then, Ginny leaned closer and muttered, “It’s a Muggle song. I heard it on the radio over the summer, and I actually really like it. Magickind can say what they will about Muggles, but they’ve got some pretty incredible music.”
And you say that you’re not worth it
You get hung up on your flaws
Well, in my eyes you are perfect
As you are
“Magickind?” Harry responded, questioning the phrase. “I’ve never heard anyone call it that before.” Ginny smiled wryly. “Well, I would say wizardkind, but that’s excluding at least half of the magical population. Not everyone’s a wizard, you know. Not everyone’s a man. In fact, very few of the wizards I know are really men. They’re mostly just immature children who happen to have a couple years of life behind them.” Harry laughed, startled and very amused. He’d never seen this side of Ginny before, and he found that he rather liked it. “Yeah,” he parried, grinning, “I guess you’re right.” Ginny’s eyes collided with his, and she seemed to realize what she’d said. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about you! Just…most boys I know.” She rolled her eyes, smiling, and Harry’s fingers twitched at her waist.
I’ll be there when you get lonely, lonely
Keep the secrets that you told me, told me
And your love is all you owe me
And I won’t break your heart
Harry felt himself relaxing a bit, swaying more comfortably to the tune. He had to agree with Ginny; it was a good song. “So, how’s the term going?” He asked. “I haven’t really chatted with you about it in a while.” He felt a sting of guilt, but it was whisked away when he saw Ginny smile softly at him. “I’ve been doing really well. I mean, I haven’t been entered into a deadly magical tournament or anything crazy like that, and I don’t have to be a therapist to my best friends around the clock. I’ve had a pretty chill semester, all things considered.” Harry chuckled, sighing a little. “Yeah, I suppose things haven’t exactly been simple on my end, but I’m managing. And Hermione and Ron aren’t that bad…” Ginny raised her eyebrows, her face so disbelieving that Harry snorted. “Well, yeah, okay, they’re pretty bad.” Ginny laughed outright. “Honestly, they just need to snog and get it over with! I think all of Hogwarts is done with the constant arguing. In fact, I’m betting I could get a lot of people to help me make that happen…” She trailed off, a contemplative look on her face, and Harry laughed again.
But there ain’t nothing I would rather do
Than blow off all my plans for you
At this point Harry felt like it was natural, even easy, to spin across the floor. He twirled Ginny away from him, and she laughed, hair flying out in a flaming waterfall. She returned, and he settled his hand on her waist again, smiling. She was frazzled and giggling up at him, and Harry wondered if she’d always looked like this. If she’d always been lovely, and maybe he just hadn’t noticed it before. “How is it possible,” considered Ginny thoughtfully, snapping him from his thoughts, “that you think yourself a bad dancer?” There was a teasing light in her eyes, and Harry responded easily: “Well, Neville has been stepping on your toes for an hour, so I’m sure I seem great in comparison.” Ginny rolled her eyes at him, and Harry grinned.
I will never try to change you, change you
I will always want the same you, same you
Swear on everything I pray to
That I won’t break your heart
Harry looked around the room at their fellow dancers, noting the smiles and the fact that most of them were barely even moving anymore, just clutching each other with dreamy looks on their faces. He thought that it was funny, how they seemed to have no worries. Then again, he was finding that dancing with his best friend’s sister on Christmas morning was surprisingly relaxing, which was something he never thought would be true. He grinned to himself, looking down at Ginny, who seemed peaceful and happy, lost in her own thoughts.
When no one seems to notice
And your days, they seem so hard
My darling, you should know this
My love is everywhere you are
“You know,” said Harry, and Ginny’s head snapped up, “you’re not a bad dancer yourself. How did you learn?” Ginny snorted a little, and Harry smiled at the sound. “Well, Mum is under the impression that every proper Weasley woman should be able to dance, so she taught me herself. I think I hated it so much that I faked being sick a few times to get out of it. All I really wanted was to run outside and fly with my brothers, but Mum didn’t like that much. Of course, I can’t blame her; after six boys, I’m not surprised that she wanted someone a bit more feminine around, but I’ve never really fit that ticket.” She sighed, staring at her feet.
Harry lifted his hand from her waist and nudged her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eye. “I, for one, am glad.” He proclaimed, smiling encouragingly at her. “Your mum can say whatever she wants, but everyone who knows you, everyone who really knows you, wouldn’t change a thing about you, myself included. You’re a fantastic person, Ginny, and you’re loved. Don’t ever try to be someone you’re not to please other people. Believe me, it doesn’t work out, and you’ll just end up losing yourself in the process; you are exactly who you need to be.” Harry was startled to see that Ginny’s eyes were watering, and he immediately regretted his words.
But then she placed her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him, and he felt relief wash over him. Harry slid his arms tentatively around her back, not sure if she would be comfortable with it, but she didn’t flinch or step away. He rested his chin on the top of her head, closing his eyes, and smiled for what felt like the millionth time that night.
I won’t break your heart
Harry heard the last chords of the song being struck, and he blinked, surprised. It had felt like hours had passed, and, at the same time, it seemed as though it had been only a few seconds. Ginny unwound her hands from around his neck, and he smiled down at her. Her eyes weren’t watery anymore but bright and glowing like stars. They walked off the dance floor hand in hand, and Harry grabbed his things from his table before hastening back to Ginny’s side. As they strolled out of the Great Hall in companionable silence, Harry couldn’t help a smirk. “So, what was this scheme you were planning for Ron and Hermione? I’d be more than happy to help.”
A little ways away, Minerva McGonagall heard the offer, and she smiled to herself. She could see the truth more clearly than any Seer ever had; those two were simply destined for each other.