Everybody Party Till the Gasman Comes

Professor McGonagall's voice lashed out in the almost silent room, causing me to jump and bump my elbow on the desk. It was the end of a Transfiguration lesson. We'd all finished our work and copied down the homework from the board. I was falling asleep next to Hermione, who was getting a head start on the homework, and Ron and Harry were having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George's fake wands at the desk behind us. The sounds that had been being emitted from them ceased and McGonagall continued speaking.

"I have something to say to you all." She looked around at us, a stern look on her face as she did so. "The Yule Ball is approaching, a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our guests. The Yule Ball will be open only to fourth years and above, though you may invite a younger student if you wish."

Many of the girls in the classroom began to have fits of all different sorts. I glanced around at the sound of a high pitched laugh, and saw Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil trying with all of their mights to keep quiet. Their faces were squished together in an attempt to stop laughing.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned over to Hermione, who had hardly looked up at the mention of the coming festivities. "This is going to be a great time, don't you think?" My words dripped sarcasm, and she only smiled back at me politely before going back to her work.

"Dress robes will be worn and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. The Yule Ball is a chance for us to...let our hair down," she continued, voice extremely disapproving.

I let out a tiny snort of a giggle of my own at the look on my professor's face.

"But that does not mean that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

Just as she finished speaking, the bell rang. I packed my things into my satchel then followed the rest of the students out into the corridors. I looked around the crowded hall until I spotted Hermione, who was hurrying off to her next class. It took some shoving, but I caught up with her eventually and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"So who d'you want to go to the ball with?" I asked.

She turned to look at me, a bit taken aback by my words. She looked around, seemingly a bit frazzled, before answering with "I have to get to class" and shrugging away from me.

***

The following days made me ashamed to be a girl. We finally get to have some sort of social interaction with the opposite sex and all of the girls go mental. Everywhere I went there were herds of girls, giggling and staring at every boy that walked passed. I heard and saw everything from girls who discussed what they were going to wear to girls who had the guts to simply walk straight up to a boy and ask him to go to the ball with her. This went on every day during passing periods and meals, and it was making me slightly nauseous.

I spent most of my time with Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Neither of the boys had dates to the ball, though Hermione did (she'd confided in me who it was and made me swear not to tell anyone), as did Ginny. I wasn't too concerned with the ball; whether I got a date or not I knew I had friends enough to be able to have a great time.

It was a little over a week until term ended when a package came in the mail for me from Mrs. Weasley during breakfast. I immediately knew what it was, having been wondering when it would arrive, and shoved the rest of the jam-slathered toast I'd been eating into my mouth, grasping the package and running off to the common room. I earned a few odd looks from everyone surrounding me at that.

Once I was in my dorm, I sat down cross-legged on my four-poster, the package sitting on the blankets in front of me. I first picked off the letter that was attached to its front and read it.

Samantha,

These robes were your mother's. She always used to talk of how someday she wanted you to have them. After the accident, I kept them hidden away until a time that I knew you would need them. This is that time. Have a wonderful night at the ball, dear. I know you'll look absolutely beautiful; just as she did.

Love from,
Molly

I smiled, placed the letter on my bedside table, then began unwrapping the robes. My fingers ran over soft cloth and I pulled the robes completely from their wrappings. They were a soft off-white satin, accented with peach silk trimmings. I rubbed the fabric between my fingers and imagined what my mother must have looked like wearing the clothes I now held in my hands. From all of the pictures and very few memories I had of my mum, I knew that her and I were almost identical. I couldn't make myself believe, though, that I would be nearly as stunning as she must have been wearing the wonderful robes.

Two light knocks on the door to the dorm made me look up. Ginny and Hermione stood in the doorway, perusing looks on both of their faces as they silently asked me why I'd left the Great Hall so quickly without an explanation. I motioned for them to come over and showed them my robes.

"They're beautiful," Hermione said, smiling.

"Those were your mum's, weren't they?"

I nodded at the younger girl who was now sat on my bed beside me. "They were. Your mum kept them all this time just for me."

"You'll look brilliant in them," Ginny commented. "Now if only you had a date to compliment you as I just did." She raised her eyebrows, a knowing look in her pretty chocolate eyes.

My hands shot up in defense. "No, Ginny. I know where you're going with that."

"He's planning on asking you," Hermione spoke up.

"What? How do you know that?"

"I heard him and Fred talking. Fred told him that it would be a good idea to ask you. As a sort of apology for taking your diary."

A laugh broke from my mouth. "So he's going to try to win my affections back by asking me to the ball? He hasn't even given me my diary back yet."

Ginny stood up from the bed, taking a step back and reaching into the bag that was slung across her torso. "Actually," she said, bringing out a small black covered book and handing it to be. "George wanted me to give you this. He also wanted me to tell you that he didn't read anything and that he would have given it back to you in person but after you shoved Fred off of the armchair in the common room he was worried about what you'd do to him."

"Smart boy, " I muttered, quickly flipping through the pages. Finding nothing out of place, I put it back under my pillow. "When was he going to be asking me to the ball?"

Hermione shrugged. "I have no idea. Knowing him though, I'd assume it'll be last minute."

"What if I get a different date before then?"

Ginny laughed. "We all know you wouldn't say yes to anyone but him, Sam." She got a thoughtful expression. "I'm surprised neither one of you have talked to the other. It's been what?, a couple weeks? Longest you've gone without speaking to him since you were four."

"He and Fred are extremely busy with whatever it is they've been doing all year, with the letter sending and the notes. I'm sure that's far more important than attempting to talk to me. Especially when he's worried that I'm going to hex him in some way or another." I shrugged off the matter.

"You're going to crack soon."

I stood up beside Ginny, knocking her on the head with my knuckles. "Hello, Ginny, remember? I'm not angry with him. Therefore, I can't crack."

"What are you going to do when he asks you to the ball?" Hermione asked.

"I have a simple solution to that."

"And that is?"

I grinned. "I'm not going to let him ask me."

Hermione and Ginny gave each other a look that very clearly said they had no idea what I meant. However, where Hermione's expression held a slight bit of (unnecessary) worry, Ginny's was one of a burning desire to know what I was planning.