summary: When the Yule Ball takes a disastrous turn, an unexpected encounter with Neville Longbottom transforms a night of disappointment into a truly magical memory
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You hurried up to your room. You could still hear the dance music playing, growing more distant and muffled.
Seeing that no one was following you, you sat down on one of the countless steps leading up to your common room so you could take off your painful shoes. As you did, you finally let out a shaky sigh. You gathered your belongings, realizing you'd left your coat in the Great Hall.
"Stupid..." You couldn't help but curse. You left the place in such a hurry that you didn't even gather all your things. You just hoped one of your friends would notice and pick it up; otherwise, you'd lose it forever, since returning to that place would be particularly embarrassing.
You didn't know if this night could be classified as one of your worst yet. You had high expectations for it, like most people. You prepared your best dress robes and spent hours struggling with your hair to make it look nice and neat. You were invited by the boy of your dreams, but in the end, everything shattered.
You felt small tears form in the corners of your eyes, gathering into a tight lump in your throat, but you didn't let it out. How silly. A cold gust of wind cut through the hallway with a quick whistling sound, making you shiver from head to toe. The night seemed to be getting worse.
You quickly grabbed your shoes and rolled up your dress to finish climbing the stairs. Standing by the common room fireplace would be better, at least until everyone started to return and you had to go to bed. The Fat Lady snored so loudly that you almost felt sorry to wake her, but you needed some warmth. You cleared your throat, but there was no response, so you "accidentally" dropped your shoes, causing a much louder noise, startling her.
"Excuse me," you murmured in a faint voice. "Banana fritters."
"Oh! What time is it? What are you doing here so early, my dear?" The lady quickly sat up to look at you closely, apparently noticing your condition, so she didn't comment further and moved aside so you could enter.
The warmth soon embraced you pleasantly. A sensation you would never tire of every time you entered this place, grateful to Gryffindor for having the best common room. You carelessly tossed your shoes back onto the rug and plopped down on the sofa in front of the fireplace. You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down so you wouldn't burst into tears. It was just a dance, it was just one boy, it wasn't worth it.
"A-are you okay?" You must have fallen asleep because you didn't hear anyone come in. You looked over the back of the chair to find Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom watching you with curiosity and maybe a little concern.
"Yes," you managed to answer. "Is the dance over?"
"Nope," Ginny replied. "But I was already tired and wanted to go to bed." She plopped down next to you. Neville was still standing in the doorway, uncomfortable. "Why did you come back so early?"
You'd known Ginny since she'd started at Hogwarts. She'd always been kind, but she wasn't a friend enough for you to feel entirely comfortable telling her about your embarrassing escape from the ball, not to mention Neville, who seemed to have wandered a few feet closer to where you were standing.
"I was bored, so... I left," you lied.
"How sad. Neville and I danced until we dropped," she laughed. "Although I think if it were up to him, we'd still be there. He's an excellent dancer."
You looked at Neville, who was blushing up to his ears. For a moment, you wished you were Ginny, that you'd been asked to the dance by a nice guy and had danced until you dropped. That would have been a great night. The young redhead yawned before standing up.
"Good night," she hummed before disappearing up the stairs.
You felt a little awkward; you didn't know whether to leave and leave Neville there, but you thought it would be a little rude. Besides, it made you feel a little tender. You patted the side where Ginny had been sitting seconds before. For a moment, you saw the hesitation and nervousness on his face, but he finally sat down squarely.
"So, you like to dance?" you asked, trying to make conversation.
"Yes..." He answered quickly. You didn't want to make him more nervous, you thought about how to say goodbye politely, but he interrupted you. "And you?"
"Also, I used to dance with my dad in the living room... Although I didn't get much of a chance tonight..."
"My grandmother always says that dancing is one of the most complete arts of all, that's why she always took me to classes."
"Well, your grandmother is a very wise woman..."
After a silence, he murmured, "I saw what Michael did... That wasn't right at all..."
You fell silent; apparently your little lie was no longer of any use. You could only nod briefly, remembering that embarrassing scene of your date kissing a Beauxbatons student.
"Yes, I know... I imagine it must have been embarrassing." You giggled, trying to lighten the mood.
"N-no, no. He's an idiot."
"For doing that to you... I think one of your friends hit him after that... If it makes you feel better..." You laughed again at his tender nervousness. You returned to your thoughts that you should have gone to the dance with a boy like him.
"Yeah... I don't think I'll ever speak to him again after this... Anyway, the only thing I regret is not having a nice dance to remember the night by."
You watched him shift uncomfortably, hesitantly. You imagined he was looking for an excuse to go back to his room, but he finally jumped up, landing in front of you, gently extending his hand. You were touched by his action, but you excused yourself. "You don't have to do that, Neville..."
"Y-you don't have to do it if you don't want to," he hesitated. "B-but... I'd like to give you a good memory of the night."
You felt a comfortable warmth invade your chest and slightly your face. You gently took his hand and walked to the clearest area of the common room. You were surprised by the firmness with which he settled in, as if, in order to dance, he'd stopped being that shy, forgetful boy you'd known since you entered Hogwarts. He began to set the rhythm; the music was barely a whisper, but the scene was almost like something out of a fairy tale. Your dress floated as he twirled, and you couldn't help but forget all the bad things from the night, even for a few minutes.
Finally, Neville stopped, still holding your hand or your waist. It didn't bother you; in fact, if you could, you'd want to be there forever, with that comforting warmth surrounding you. Apparently, he had no intention of leaving either, perhaps out of courtesy or because he also felt comfortable around you.
Unable to help it, you let go to hug him around the waist. You felt his slight trembling, but finally, he also placed his hands carefully and timidly on your back, afraid of how you might react.
"Thank you so much, Neville... You gave me a beautiful memory of this evening."
He didn't answer, but you felt him relax a little as they swayed back to the light whisper of the music.
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