Sigh, Teenagers

For the sake of Harry and Hermione's collective moods, the quartet decided against mentioning the supposed scandal brought about by Rita Skeeter's work in the weeks following her ever so riveting article. Though, Harry and Hermione's moods were but matches to Y/N's forest fire. Both literally and figuratively. For all that is good, everyone around the girl, and the very structure of the school grounds, Y/N's friends hoped the scandal would pass soon. The world's carbon emissions would singlehandedly double if the girl was allowed to continue setting every pink magazine in her sight ablaze as she had done for about two weeks now.

Harry had to applaud her. No one had seen the girl use this much magic in all her four years at the fine institution that was Hogwarts. Of course, that did cause trouble when random straggling witches or wizards would have their robes singed on their un-merry way to potions. Poor Ron nearly had to host an impromptu funeral for his eyebrows had Hermione not produced a water charm on the spot. Aside from the walking fire hazard and the sudden influx of arson on campus, neither Harry, Hermione, nor the twin had any qualms with Y/N's strategy. To her, out of sight was truly out of mind. If this whole fiasco didn’t exist to begin with, it would be a blessing. Yet here Y/N was, stalking around the castle in fear of every pink parchment in sight.

In fact, of all students in Hogwarts, Cedric seemed to be the least affected by the "news". Being the golden boy at school had its quirks, true. Cedric had arguably the largest support system of of the five students featured in Rita's latest article. Though, Viktor Krum was one surefire competitor when it came to fans. The Hufflepuff was simply glad to not have adoring fans chase after him on daily jogs like Viktor did.

While Cedric did have students occasionally approaching him to offer support and words of wisdom, he also knew there was an unspoken question burning at the tips of his friends' tongues. What was going on with him and that cute girl over in the Gryffindor house?

Cedric Diggory himself didn’t have the answer to that question, but that didn't stop him from worrying about Y/N and their previous encounter. She was a dear friend in an ever blossoming friendship after all, and it would be a shame to lose such a unique girl over some mostly-baseless accusations .

At the moment, Cedric was having a lovely one-sided conversation with Cho Chang. The boy didn't mean to steer his chat into the kingdom of unrequitedness, later reflecting on his listless nods and agreements long after the conversation had ended. It was no fault but his own that Cedric was far too busy gazing upon the lovely Gryffindor at the end of the hallway.

Even poor Cho seemed to notice the shift in concentration in Cedric as of late. Deep inside, the Ravenclaw knew she wouldn't stand a chance against the girl that her object of affection was busy ogling at, but she had to give herself the benefit of the doubt. "And well you see, with everything coming up, I was wondering if you would like to -"

A burst of light erupted at the end of the dimly lit hallway accompanied by the yelps of students scorched by the flames of Y/N's wrath. The beginnings of a proud smile emerged on Cedric's handsome face as he watched the scene unfold down the hallway. The boy was barely able to maintain himself before apologizing to Cho Chang about his departure from their conversation on the basis of his Prefect duty. Surely the boy had nothing but the purest of intentions in breaking up a potentially dangerous scuffle. It was most definitely not in the interest of finally mingling with the pretty girl who'd been avoiding him for the past two weeks.

Upon seeing her fellow front-page feature approach her, Y/N immediately panicked. All previous knowledge of her magical charms and spells abandoned the witch as she stamped out the torched pink pamphlet, just narrowly avoiding catching her own robes on fire too.

Not knowing whether to sputter out an apology to the student who's magazine she destroyed or to maintain her anti-Skeeter stance, the girl froze for half a second before skedaddling around the corner faster than you could say Gillyweed. Y/N was not yet ready to face Cedric. One, for her last interaction. Two, for the guilt of tarnishing the boy's reputation with her mere existence. Three, for even daring to be his friend to begin with.

And since she had already scurried away like an unsmooth criminal, it was already too late to turn back. "You dimwit," She bemoaned to herself as smacked her forehead and hurried away.

~

It had been weeks since any of the five "love birds” had last seen Rita Skeeter, yet her articles continued to appear one after another-- all speculation of course. On the rare, nice December morning that Y/N had managed to wake up early and eat a peaceful breakfast with her friends, the Witch Weekly had naturally decided to publish yet another piece on the "juicy hot gossip" that was Y/N, Cedric, Hermione, Krum, and Harry's affairs. Alas, peace was but a hopeful figment of Y/N's imagination as Errol dropped , one: the latest copy of Witch Weekly, and two : a large, unknown parcel in front of the Weasley family's section of the Gryffindor table.

Unfortunately, being the only girl among all the Weasley siblings meant Ginny was the first contender for her mother's opinion of the latest gossip. The affairs of teenaged Hogwarts students was not lost on the Weasley matriarch, who sent her copy of the Witch Weekly to her daughter in addition to a request for Ginny's thoughts on the situation. All surrounding students quieted. The larger parcel was entirely ignored in favor of the bright pink booklet that sat on top of Ginny Weasley's eggs.

"Oh she's done it now, " the youngest of the bunch muttered, flipping through the pink booklet with morbid curiosity.

"Done what?" Hermione questioned, leaning over her plate of eggs to chance a glance at the magazine. Hearing her friend, Y/N was now leaning forward over her cereal, her hair almost dipping into the milk if not for George's quick hands holding her locks away from their dairy doom. With Hermione to her right and Y/N to her left, Ginny felt as if she would suffocate over a measly binding of pink parchment.

"Here, take it," the Weasley girl sighed.

Hermione was quick to snatch the magazine out of Ginny's hands, flipping through the pages with diligence. Her brown eyes zipped from one side of the page to another as her thick eyebrows scrunched further and further into the center of her pretty face.

Y/N, having lost the race to read, resumed her breakfast with a nonchalant façade. Despite the fact that everyone within the vicinity of a mile radius knew the girl was deeply concerned with her image, especially her false one. She still had appearances to keep lest the news find its way to her mother. Fred laughed at the many quick glances and side eyes that Y/N had stolen at the book.

”I can't believe it! We're not some quidditch game to gamble on! Whose brilliant idea was it to bet on the lives of children?!" Hermione proceeded to throw the booklet down in front of her with a resigned huff, just nearly missing Ginny's eggs.

"Oh dear," George mumbled, taking a peek at the paper.

"Well that's quite the turn of events," said Fred. His eyes seemed to dart between the magazine, Harry, and Y/N. A foul idea appeared in the redhead's mind and a jealousy stabbed at his heart. A small frown had begun to form on his freckled face.

George was ever so slightly better. Though it pained him, he had to keep it together for his friend. Y/N had already been agitated for the past few weeks about the situation. He didn’t need his feelings to add on top of that.

And Harry… well Harry was already over it. He’d simply rolled his emerald eyes and continued eating his breakfast. He was already used to the rumor train, and whilst his blood boiled, the article was already set in stone. He knew the truth and so did his friends.

"Lemme see," Y/N chimed as she made a mad grab for the papers before another member of their table could. A pair of furrowed eyebrows slowly inched together as she skimmed the work. "What in the bloody hell?" Just as Hermione had explained, the magazine depicted several pink bars under different pairings between the participants of the first task fiasco. In a brilliant feat of wizardry, the bars inched up or down according to ever changing percentages. Currently, Y/N L/N and Cedric Diggory were the top pairing for the supposed "Yule Ball." The Gryffindor's anger was quickly suppressed by her curiosity. "What's the Yule Ball?"

The table fell into a hush yet again.

"Would it have anything to do with this?" Ron spoke, holding up an intangible mess of old, brown ruffles and fabric for all the Great Hall to see. Y/N took one look at the raggedy mess of robes and, against her will, snorted so hard that the milk in her mouth shot out of her nose. Despite that, she couldn't stop laughing at Ron's apparel while covering the lower half of her soiled face. The twins on the other hand couldn't decide what was more giggle worthy : Ron's precarious robes or Y/N's sudden expulsion of breakfast.

The nearest Gryffindor bystanders erupted into various "ughs" and "ews" as the girl hastily grabbed at a few tissues to wipe away her outburst. Her eyes drove themselves dizzy trying to scan the Great Hall for any extra onlookers. Luckily, her slip up was confined to the Gryffindor table. Unluckily, the Gryffindor twins would never let her live it down.

"Mum's sent me a dress!" Gasped Ron incredulously.

"Dress robes," Hermione corrected.

"Well it does match your eyes," Harry laughed.

"Absolutely not!" Ron cried. sticking the garment as far away from his body as he physically could. "Ginny, these must be for you."

At the sheer sight of the monstrosity of a robe, Ginny recoiled. "I'm not wearing that, it's ghastly. Besides, the Yule Ball is for fourth years and up. I won't wear that even if I wanted to. There's not a curse in the world that could possibly be worse than wearing that."

"Wait a second. Ginny. What do you know?"

With evil intention on her face, Ginny smirked. "Surprise..."

~

The next day, Y/N watched as Ron wrote a very confused letter to Molly, demanding answers as to the mystery that was the "Yule Ball". Most importantly, questioning why his dear younger sister was granted that very important piece of knowledge while the rest of the Weasley siblings were left in the dark without even a wand for support.

As Y/N watched her ginger friend scribble his words messily onto the parchment, she began to hypothesize why Molly Weasley would pull such a stunt. Yet hearing Ron's disgruntled comments about not wanting to attend the ball finally opened her eyes to the reason behind Molly's sneaky withholding of information.

She couldn't blame Molly nor Ron. Merlin, Y/N herself didn't want to attend the bloody ball. She couldn't imagine how difficult it must be to wrangle three teenaged boys into a social gathering involving dressing up and dancing. Though, the Gryffindor didn't have to imagine for much longer as she sat in a crowded hall of Gryffindors the next Wednesday, watching as the opposite side of the room, composed purely of trifled boys, trickled in reluctantly.

Professor McGonagall had yet to arrive, and Y/N wished the professor would pick up her pace. The girl did not want to be taking her time to discuss an event she wholeheartedly did not intend to attend. "I wish those boys would hurry up and seat themselves. Professor McGonagall's almost here," Hermione complained, noting the disparity between the fearfully seated girls and woefully unorganized boys.

Y/N caught sight of two flaming red heads of hair doing anything but sitting. Of course, she might've been sitting next to them and scolding them to sit down herself if not for Filch's insistence on separating the two sexes for "the sake of partnering."

"I don't think that's going to happen." Y/N replied.

On cue, their Head of House sauntered through the hall's double doors, with her head held high and piercing green eyes willing the boys' side of the room into organized submission. With a simple wave of her wand, a large chart of dance steps appeared at the end of the hall. Now, with the entire hall of students silent, the professor began.

As your parents may have told you before term, this year's Christmas holiday will be replaced with the Yule Ball. Now, the Yule ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard tournament since its inception. On Christmas eve night, we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect each and everyone one of you," McGonagall paused to stare at the barrage of sulking young men, "to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally, because the Yule ball, is first and foremost...A dance."

And suddenly, the entire hall erupted into chatter. Be it excited or bemoaned, the hall was echoing with noisy teenaged conversation. Y/N had already guessed that the dreaded act of dance would be brought up one way or another. After all, a Ball was a Ball, and conservative Hogwarts was most definitely going to enforce its traditions upon its young students. She too was about to open her mouth to make a comment about her despise of artistic bodily movement when McGonagall once again took control of the room.

"The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you in the course of a single evening besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons."

Upon hearing such a phrase, Y/N's lips tightened into a thin line as she attempted to contain her amusement in front of the strict instructor. She could already see the twins word battling each other on the tongue twister from across the room. Oh merlin, now the young girl was dreadfully distracted as she watched Fred's lips moving rapidly, repeating the phrase over and over again.

"Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight," McGonagall ranted, eyes glazing over every girl in the room.

Dear dear Merlin! The girl prayed with all her heart that this wouldn't be some metaphor for puberty. She was not going to have this talk with McGonagall of all people. Y/N's E/C eyes darted straight to the Weasleys across the room, too mortified to look her professor in the eye. And yet another subdued smile made its way onto Y/N's lips as she caught the twins flapping their long arms ever so gracefully across the room and winking at her. Ah yes, it seemed that Fred and George would surely become the swans ready to burst forth and fly away.

Then, McGonagall's body stiffened, quickly turning to face Ron Weasley as her green eyes zeroed in on the boy. "Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance," the professor said pointedly. "Mr. Weasley."

The first thing Y/N did was meet Hermione's own brown eyes. An evil smile formed upon Y/N's face. Was their head of house going to do what Y/N and Hermione thought she was going to do?

"Will you join me please?"

And suddenly, Y/N's internal screaming hit a decibel she never knew could be reached in her lifetime. Everyone could tell on her pretty face, that the girl was having the time of her life watching Ronald dance with their professor. Harry could even tell from across the room. A wide smile was plastered on his own face as he and the twins cheered the ginger boy onwards.

"I wish I had a camera," Y/N whispered to Hermione as Ron spun around the room in awkward fashion. Clearly, he was not the one leading the dance at the moment.

Hermione couldn't help but smile too, despite keeping her composure much better than her friend. "I wouldn't want to be the one caught dancing with Ron after that," the brunette whispered back.

As soon as the introductory demo had ended, the ginger sprinted back to his seat with a red face to complement his hair. The poor boy was then greeted by jeers and cheers from his peers who patted him solemnly on his back. As fun as it was to watch, all the boys knew it was better Ron than any of them.

"Everybody come together!" McGonagall commanded. "Boys on your feet!"

At once, the girls stood up. Some ladies were on a mission to ask their fancied men to practice dancing, while other girls looked excited to learn how to dance at all. But of course there were the few stragglers, hiding in their seats and hoping not to touch any of the cootie-carrying opposite sex. Y/N was one of them.

In fact, the girl had the nerve to hide behind the other loitering Gryffindors for she knew that the twins would seek her out and accost her for a dance one way or another. Harry and Ron didn’t want to dance to begin with, so it was every witch and wizard for themselves. Though she herself had no clue how the twins would divide up her attention or manage a three person dance. It would be better if she didn't have to choose between the twins in the first place.

However, it seemed that Y/N's options were dwindling by the second as unlikely pairs began to form. Even Hermione was approaching Ron, the two of them coming to a begrudging truce. As much as Hermione unnerved Ron and Ron annoyed Hermione, it seemed they could at least find it in themselves to dance with the other. Interested in the pairing, Y/N crossed her arms and leaned against the hall's stone walls. She wondered if Hermione would attend the Yule Ball with Ron. If not for the stud, Viktor Krum, who had been been visiting Hermione in library in a suspicious rate as of late.

"Miss L/N" McGonagall's piercing voice suddenly spoke.

The young girl stiffened up and instinctively fixed her posture, a habit she had maintained from interacting with her own strict mother. "Yes professor?"

McGonagall lifted her brows expectantly at the student, studying the girl for a second before speaking. "Now Miss L/N. the school has been made aware of your absence from the Ball on account of you returning home for the holidays."

Y/N then sighed in relief.

"However-" And suddenly the relief was gone. "I expect you to participate in our practice today. Any bright young witch or wizard will find the art of dance essential to being a respectable member of society," McGonagall asserted as she gave the girl a stern look.

"But professor, everyone's been taken," Y/N replied honestly. As much as the girl was hoping to escape the situation, everyone had indeed been taken. There had been few students left without partners in the hall, but most of them were of the witch variety.

"Not all...Potter!" Professor McGonagall called, unintentionally silencing the room as she did so. Y/N and Harry were left to stare at one another in embarrassment as the boy shuffled over to the two. The young witch shrunk into her uniform as she felt the gazes of several whispering students. Oh bloody hell, she couldn't think of any worse way to draw attention to her and her supposed love affair partner.

"Yes Professor McGonagall," Harry's rough yet calm voice answered.

"It seems you are without a partner Mr. Potter. Who better than Miss L/N?"

Y/N eyed the professor suspiciously. Was their no-rumor, no-nonsense head of house seriously trying to set Y/N and Harry up? Did McGonagall believe the lies that Witch Weekly spewed out? The girl really had more faith in her professor. What a shame.

"Now, you two may practice along with your fellow students, and Y/N-"

The girl stopped to look at the newly demoted instructor on her "Favorite Professor List".

"Should your holiday plans fall through, your invitation to the Yule Ball remains, gathered that you arrive with a date. As for you, Harry, the school has already taken it upon ourselves to ban Rita Skeeter from our premises to avoid any more unpleasantness. Now, you two get dancing."

With that, the professor walked away to scold Neville for tripping over his feet and sending a domino of all surrounding students to tumble to the ground with him. Not too impressed with her situation as of late, Y/N gave Harry a tightlipped smile and a defeated look.

“McGonagll’s really got us." Harry commented as he offered an awkward hand out for his friend to take. Afterall, step one of McGonagall's chart did say to ask to dance with a well placed hand.

 Y/N sighed, placing her hand in Harry's. She noticed immediately how rough they were. These were the hands of a quidditch player. She could feel the callouses dotted through various points of the Seeker's hands, almost desiring to run the tips of her fingers along the skin. If given enough time and permission, Y/N felt as if she could decipher how he held his Firebolt based on what parts of Harry's hands were rougher than the others.

"I don't supposed you've ever danced before?" Y/N asked.

The green-eyed boy shook his head, sending his messy black hair to and fro. "Although, I did see Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon dancing together once. I would obliviate that memory in an instant if I could." Harry replied.

Y/N laughed as she placed her left hand upon his shoulder. "I can't even imagine how bad that must've been. Like two babbling, bumbling, band of baboons," she added, using an uptight and airy voice to mimic their professor's. This made Harry chuckle.

"So, you put your foot there and I'll put my foot there, and-Harry what are you doing?" The two of them paused to look at Harry's right hand hovering ever so precariously over the girl's waist. The boy then stared at his friend nervously, not knowing what to do. He scanned the rest of the hall, seeing how the other students began to catch onto the repetitive steps of the dance. He then finally rested his hand on Y/N's waist, though his hands were still far from settled.

The next few minutes consisted of the two teenagers fumbling around the steps according to the chart McGonagall had provided. Though the parchment was practically useless as neither Harry nor Y/N could seem to figure it out. Every once in a while, the two would stop to switch hands as according to the steps. However, each time the pair would stop to adjust, their rhythm was sorely interrupted as their awkward little young arms would bump into one another.

"Ouch, Y/N, that's my foot not the floor," Harry would yelp every few minutes.

This occurred so often in the next twenty minutes that the two teens had eventually resorted to staring at their own two feet as they "danced". Both Harry and Y/N had come to accept that they were not the secret swan and lordly lion that McGonagall was expecting, and that was okay. If anything, they were something more akin to shuffling shrimps as their necks were bent downwards so aggressively that their heads were just about to start a fire with the friction generated from rubbing into each others' craniums.

Otherwise, her practice with Harry was pleasant. He was somewhat patient with her, despite being equally as frustrated with the dance. At some point, the two had forgotten that they were supposed to be dancing, instead choosing to simply sway side to side as they commented on other peoples' technique.

"Hermione's certainly got it," Y/N said.

"Yeah, well Hermione's probably studied it in “Wizard Balls Behaviors and Traditions for the past week now," Harry replied. "Look at Ron."

"The poor bloke, he's got not clue what he's doing."

"Neither do we."

The two burst out laughing, realizing how foolish they must have looked to the rest of the hall. "As long as we don’t actually attempt to dance, I think we make brilliant partners Harry. Don't you think so?"

"Yeah. Um...Y/N?"

"Yes Harry?" Y/N turned away from looking at Ron and Hermione to meet Harry's dazzling emerald eyes. The poor boy's breath caught in his throat as his friend looked at him.

Yet unbeknownst to Y/N, Harry had been gazing upon her for far longer than that moment. He hasn’t even realized himself. With everything going on, Harry hadn't much time to talk to his friend in recent. At least, not about anything other than his impending doom. The girl had been extra distant since the release of the Rita articles. Whilst Hermione fumed about the works, Y/N seemed to have checked out, making herself scarce around the castle and all it's magazine-reading occupants, Harry included.

The boy had only come to realize how much he missed his friend when one second Y/N was all over him, worried about his trial and the next, she was bidding him curt good mornings and disappearing into the walls. While the girl had always been good at blending into the background, Harry wished she wouldn't this time. He enjoyed her presence, her laugh, her smile, her jokes. He enjoyed how calm she made him feel yet how much chaos she brought into his life. He enjoyed this moment with Y/N. How even though he struggled, he felt like everything was okay. If he was going to dance with anyone, he figured Y/N was the girl to go to.

Harry's hand was now firm on Y/N's waist. The boy's heart skipped a beat at the as he looked upon Y/N, and suddenly words were spewing out of his mouth. "Did you…did you maybe want to go to the ball with me?"

Y/N's smile faded along with Harry's heart. The girl's hands fell to her side as she looked away.

"I'm not going to the ball, Harry."

"You're not?" He echoed incredulously, feeling embarrassed.

"Sorry Harry, but my aunt Mildred's coming to visit over holiday. From the States," Y/N explained sheepishly.

"Since when?" Harry demanded, almost angry to be left out.

"Well-"

"Sorry to interrupt but we can't help overhearing SOME VERY IMPORTANT NEWS," two redheads butted in. The twins were suddenly right next to Y/N and Harry, their respective dance partners left abandoned at their spots. Even Angelina Johnson and that random Gryffindor fifth year knew better than to intervene.

"You weren't going to think of telling us?!" Fred said angrily.

One look at the identically angry faces of the Weasley twins immediately told Y/N that she had messed up. Immensely. "To be fair, its been a busy year," she muttered.

"And it would've been busy all year until holidays," Fred continued.

"So you were just going to leave over the break and have us dance with each other at the ball?" George added.

"You weren't going to leave me stuck looking at this bloke's unfortunate face were you?" butted Fred as he jabbed a finger at George’s direction.

Harry bit his lip in thought. The twins had probably assumed Y/N would go with them to the ball the same way he assumed she would accept his invitation. Of course, he would never know her answer because she'd decided simply not to go and didn't tell a soul.

"I didn't even know the Yule Ball existed until a week ago and you know I wouldn't have gone anyways. My mum's already expecting me home for Christmas. What's the point?"

Fred and George sighed. "The point is that you didn't tell us about holiday or about Cedric and Harry." Fred stated.

"What about me?" Harry asked, seeming to have caught stray spells in their squabble.

"First the love triangle, now the dancing," Fred accused. In response, George nudged his brother with his elbow. Hard. He knew the eldest twin's anger was pushing things just a tad bit far.

"I can't believe you believe that dreadful article and not me," Y/N sputtered. She looked at Harry for help but found that he too was looking disgruntled. The boy's thick eyebrows seemed to be kneaded together as he mulled over the events that had just unfolded. "Fine, believe what you want. Just know that I'm not going to the bloody Ball," The girl huffed before taking her leave. She was annoyed enough at everything as it was, but she did not need this today. Everything had been going just fine with Harry, but that stupid ball and that stupid Skeeter article just had to be mentioned.

Y/N's mood was dropping with every stomp away from the hall. This was the worst Wednesday ever. That was saying a lot since she used to see that git Malfoy every Wednesday. At the very least she didn't have that brilliant situation to attend every week now. Why she even took up the bet to begin with was a mystery to the girl. Maybe it was her feeble attempt to assert dominance over the boy who'd ignored her for years- to torment him as he did to her while taking advantage of his blessed brain. Oh how the tables had turned.

The girl's motive mattered not anyways. She never had see the Slytherin again. Not willingly. One more loose end to burn. She couldn't imagine how the twins would have reacted if they found out about her secret meetings with Malfoy. Then again, she had been doing good by the twins and her other friends hadn't she? Telling Malfoy off for the pins?

No that wasn't enough was it? She knew she'd sound ridiculous if she tried to use this excuse to justify herself to anyone who had their screws in the right place. Despite yearning to yell in frustration, Y/N found herself heading to the library. What a brilliant plan that was, to screech in the hall of silence.

Just as the girl arrived at the grand doors of her safe haven, she spotted her favorite brunette rounding the corner. As fate would have it, the boy's pretty diamond eyes locked upon hers. Like the glittering sunshine that danced upon the sea's surface, Cedric's eyes lit up at the sight of Y/N. She in turn, gasped, panicked. The girl's heart thumped nervously in her chest at being cornered. She couldn't quite explain why she kept running from the boy. She couldn't give herself a good reason, and she most definitely knew she couldn't provide the Hufflepuff one either.

Just as she had done several times before, Y/N took a mad dash away, into the library.

Panic settled into her hunter's face as well as he started after her as well. "Y/N! Please! What's wrong?!"

Guilt settled deep into the Gryffindor's stomach as she sprinted down the library aisles into her corner. All the while, a warm blush spread across Y/N's face as Madame Pince hollered halting demands at her retreating figure. Clearly, the librarian's instructions fell to deaf ears. Seconds later, the young Gryffindor shimmied into her hidey hole, knocking several books over with a harsh thud.

Y/N hadn't bothered to pay the enclave's other occupant any mind as she toppled over even more books to create a dusty pile of crinkled paper and broken spines in the corner of the room. She knew who had slithered into her area, and she was ready to accept a begrudging truce if it meant he would keep his insufferable pale lips shut.

"Just what are you doing?" Malfoy questioned with his lips contorted downwards. The Slytherin wasn't the only student disgusted as Y/N crawled under a heap of books so dusty that the girl was sure her lungs would shrivel up as soon as she took a heaving breath.

"None of your stinking business," the pile of literature hissed in hushed tones before collapsing onto itself. The stillness of the stack almost unnerved the Slytherin. The pile stood proudly almost as if there weren't a strange witch burrowed underneath. Seconds later, soft footsteps crescendo-ed along the carpeted aisle.

Malfoy glanced at the heap, then back at the entrance. An evil grin spread across his lips as he pictured who would emerge from the bookstacks that guarded the doorway. Perhaps it was Filch with a nasty punishment, or McGonagall armed with detention. Better yet, maybe Dumbledore would appear from behind the books, threatening to expel the witch. Merlin knows Draco would finally find reprieve from the mental girl who he couldn't seem to pry off of his mind. He couldn't wrap his head around her, and the boy disliked that, not being able to find peace from his thoughts.

But as Cedric Diggory of all people, with his tall, muscular frame, slid past the book stack, Malfoy instead found himself immeasurably disgruntled. So this was what it was? A mere lover's quarrel? Merlin, if this was about that obscene rubbish that the Skeeter woman published, he could truly care less. Whatever bloke Y/N had been seducing was completely irrelevant to the Slytherin. Yes, most definitely. It did not bother him one bit. Though, Diggory did annoy Draco. The Hufflepuff was too perfect. Draco disliked how the boy with the perfect curls towered over even him, how he would bring Hogwarts eternal glory in the Triwizard Tournament, how Cedric could fool the school on his charm alone despite his family's lowly status. How someone like that would be head over heels for a witch like Y/N.

A slightly frantic Cedric peered shyly across the room, only seeing the Slytherin boy standing over a pile of books. Surely up to no good, but that did not matter at the moment. The Hufflepuff just needed to speak with Y/N. He had no clue what he had done wrong, but he needed to reverse it, to figure out why Y/N couldn't even look him in the eyes without dashing away. Sure, running marathons whenever he saw the girl was getting a bit annoying, but he owed it to himself to talk it through.

"Have you seen Y/N around?" Cedric asked.

"Does it look like there's anyone else here," Draco sneered with an eyebrow raised. His light eyes sized up the Hufflepuffs’ quidditch captain. Surely that big ol body of his wouldn't do him any good catching golden snitches anytime soon.

The Hufflepuff cast his gaze upon Draco. Of course he knew his name, his reputation. The Slytherin was infamous after all. Whilst Cedric had never caught the Slytherin red handed (Ironic considering how many times he'd caught Miss L/N at the witching hour), he'd always itched to send Malfoy to detention on attitude alone. He never could, principle alone had carried him and he would never turn his back on principle. But now was not the time for that. As Cedric took a step back, he faltered. Had this not been the very hideout he and Y/N camped out in? Even if she wasn't in here, Cedric was sure the girl wouldn't like a bloke as foul as Draco to intrude on her space.

"This section is restricted," the Hufflepuff blurted. "You're not permitted to be in here."

"Is it?" Draco drawled, amused. "I'll be taking my leave soon then."

As soon as Cedric's voice and footsteps were surely out of the library, the blonde boy strode up to the inconspicuous pile on the floor and gave it a hard kick. Of course he made sure to keep his expensive dress shoes from submerging into the dust all the while.

Y/N's head shot out from under the books with a groan birthed from the combination of coughing from the dust and the fact that the Slytherin had just stomped on her shoulder. She bit her tongue to refrain from screaming out a slurry of curses and giving out her location.

"Finally gone mental? Your boyfriend calls and you hide in this disgusting thing," The boy glowered down at her. His lips were pursed as he gingerly dusted his own clothing off and swatted the dust particles away from himself as if he were in the pile himself.

The Gryffindor peered up at Malfoy through her lashes. Instinctively, she rubbed at her shoulder. Honestly, it didn't hurt as much as she had thought, but Y/N deserved to be dramatic after the awful day she'd had. "Shouldn't you be salsa-ing with Snape right now?"

With a stale laugh, the blonde leaned toward the girl. His sky blue eyes scanned the various books that littered the ground before plucking one up from the floor. It was a decrepit little novel on Wizard traditions and tales. Based on the cover alone, the book had to be older than three Dumbledores combined. Y/N had never seen such an outdated unironic manual in a while. "And why would I do that?" The Slytherin questioned as he flipped through the piece nonchalantly.

He, however, was not nearly as smooth as he was hoping to be. Draco had been unconsciously clenching and unclenching his jaw. His hands weren't any better as he flexed and unflexed his fingers angrily. Something about being around Y/N unnerved him, it kept him on his toes.

Somehow, Y/N could tell something was off about the boy, but she couldn't pinpoint it. Perhaps he was more fidgety than usually. He did seem to be be distracting himself with actions more than usual, too preoccupied with his pride. Well, he typically was. But Draco's current insistence on presentation was a bit much. Despite this, she sensed no malice.

"You're telling me Snape didn't round your lot up and force you to learn the waltz?" Y/N questioned as she stood up, sending a cloud of dust up into the air.

Draco cringed and instinctively took a step back. The dust was almost unbearable and he couldn't be caught dead looking like some unkempt, dirty commoner. Never again, not after his ferret incident. Else, his father would truly hear about it, and there would be consequences. Even in the safety of the library hideout, the blonde could feel that inner need for perfection and superiority crawling back from depths of his heart. It was so easy to give into. He scoffed. "Slytherins have no need for that rubbish. Not us purebloods at least. Any pureblood wizard worth his salt's already been taught to waltz. I've been dancing since I could ride a broom."

Y/N's lips pressed into a fine line like her patience. There was that arrogance she'd been "missing" from their last interaction. "Well I don't see how that is important to me. I don't intend to go to the ball. I don't need to know how to dance. I don't dance and never will," she huffed. The girl, however, did leave out the part concerning her two left feet.

Upon seeing the girl's indifference, Malfoy almost dropped his tirade. What was the point of lauding his status to a girl who he already knew would never hold him in any high standards. At least everyone else knew his money and father meant something in their society, but Y/N could truly care less. It was almost freeing to not care what others thought of him. But old habits die hard, and suddenly pre-programmed words were falling out of his mouth. "I'm sure the wizarding world is suffering so dearly from having lost their circus's prime baboon act," Draco said as he tossed the book of traditions at the girl.

Y/N caught the book without a second thought. "I wasn't aware your baboon of a girlfriend was out of commission this Yule ball. I do hope she recovers from the affliction that is your presence. What other poor soul will have the pleasure of stepping on your 100 galleon shoes?" She retorted with a feint smile.

Malfoy glared at the girl halfheartedly. Dare I say, he was a bit amused. "As if you're such a pleasure to be around. I'm sure your boyfriend Diggory is just dying to be tossed around like a plaything. I'm sure he'll follow you right out of the ball and home."

"He's not my boyfriend." Y/N blushed, entire body heating up. She wished people would stop assuming.

"And who is? Potter? I know you're attached by the hip, but you can do a little better can't you?"

"Hey! Harry is a perfectly fine companion."

Draco scoffed.

"Well, lovely conversation, but some of us have friends to return to. You know, people who find my presence to be enjoyable,” Y/N huffed. Yet her heart panged at the mention of friends. She had probably besmirched herself to her friends by now. Was she no better than Malfoy in the end? No. Malfoy didn't have any to begin with did he. No, she needed to stop thinking like that. It was time for Y/N to figure out how to be a better person, a better friend.

~

Supper was, unfortunately, tense. So was breakfast, and lunch, and dinner again. It had been days since Y/N had last had a full conversation with the twins, and it was driving her mad. Y/N knew she was in the wrong, but she had no clue how to rectify it. Something told her the twins were a little beyond a simple apology. Well, at least Fred was. The eldest twin was not fuming per say, but was most definitely ticked off.

Y/N couldn't finish a full conversation about the Yule ball at a meal without Fred reminding the table of her absence. Her unexcused absence. Her secret and unexcused absence at that. George would give her an apologetic look every once in a while, but Y/N knew that didn't mean she was entirely forgiven in his eyes. If she was, he would've spoken to her by now.

It had been eating her up inside to the point where her usual favorite activity, sleep, was interrupted or staved off nightly. Y/N simply couldn't bear not being around her boys. She was already missing terrorizing filch and plotting merchandise for their joke shop. She missed smacking their arms when they made her laugh too hard or embarrassed her with their antics. She just hated the fact they were mad at her. It had been perhaps the third night of Y/N's tossing and turning before Hermione finally stepped in.

"Y/N!" Hermione had hissed through the cover of night.

Y/N stiffened, feeling caught for her mental turmoil. Despite this, the girl still slid her bed curtains over to peek at Hermione's bed. "Yes?" she squeaked nervously. Now, the Gryffindor wasn't the best at recognizing emotions, but she could tell what was going to be said. The troll in the room was simply too big to ignore.

A silence soon followed as the bushy-haired witch contemplated her next words. Y/N on the other hand, prayed to Merlin that the conversation would end there, so that she didn't have to address the stirring pot of ugly feelings at the pit of her stomach.

"The twins miss you," Hermione state plainly.

"Well they've got a funny way of showing it," Y/N huffed.

"You know they're just hurt you didn't tell them sooner. We've all been expecting you to stay at Hogwarts like you usually do. The twins especially." Y/N now had to take a moment of silence for herself. She did overlook her usual holiday traditions. She'd miss a lot; wizard chess with Harry, presents with Harry and the Weasley family.

"Fine, but that gives no excuse for Fred bringing up that article. He knows better. He knows me and Harry aren't involved that way." And that was the problem. Y/N was so tired of hearing about her and Harry or her and Cedric, especially coming from that dreadful Skeeter. It hurt to have her closest friends accusing her of such blasphemy, to not believe her own words.

"They're just jealous."

Another silence. "They're not."

"Then why would they be so angry?"

Y/N pursed her lips, staring at the black ceiling above her. What did they have to be jealous of? Sure, they joked about approving boys back at the burrow, but that was nothing more than a joke...right? The girl now realized how fast her heart was pounding and how fast the pot was stirring in her stomach. It made her too nervous, and she couldn't handle that. She needed to shut it down, to run away like she'd been doing with Cedric.

"Either way, I'm not going to the ball. You know I'm uncomfortable with that type of stuff, Hermione."

"Wouldn't have been so bad. "You would've gone with Harry, I would've gone with Ron."

"Has Ron even asked you yet?"

It was Hermione's turn to go silent in indignance. "I'm sure he'll ask soon." But both girls knew deep inside he probably wouldn't. Their ginger friend was definitely true of heart, but bloody hell he was dense as a rock when it came to these types of things. Though, it wasn't as if Y/N could speak much on the matter.

"What about Krum then?"

"What ABOUT Krum?" Hermione replied.

"He seems to fancy you quite a bit. He'd been sitting with you in the library hasn't he?" Y/N had been burning to ask that question, and while Hermione hated the Skeeter article just as much as her, the girl knew something was fishy about the two. Something tangible.

"W-well! What about Cedric?" Hermione retorted. And now the ping pong ball has been tossed right back at Y/N.

"There's nothing going on with Cedric. I mean take a look at him! He's older, he's so popular. He could be with anyone. Why would he ask me of all people to the ball?"

"You could say the same about Viktor."

"OH so we're on a first name basis now are we?" Y/N teased.

Hermione snorted faintly from behind her bed curtain, clearly flushed. "You know what I mean!" Y/N giggled quietly too. Despite their little talk, it seemed neither girl was quite ready to admit that it was possible for anyone to find them desirable.

"Just promise you'll apologize to Fred and George." Y/N didn't need to be told that twice. She knew in her heart what needed to be done.

"I will."