Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

0646 The Dance (Part-2)

For Ron, the two-minute lead dance at the Yule Ball felt like an eternity of torture, with every agonizing second seeming to stretch on for an age.

After the initial thrill and amazement of seeing Hermione's stunning appearance and the secret burst of pride and joy at being one of the focus points on stage with her, Ron's attention quickly became entirely consumed by the countless gazes of the audience seated below in the glittering, ice-sculpted Hall.

He knew rationally that not everyone was scrutinizing him with judgmental eyes or harboring ill intentions, but in his insecure, teenage mind, he couldn't help but imagine the worst, his thoughts were escalating into paranoid overthinking.

Were they whispering mockingly that his second-hand dress robes looked like something he had picked out of a rubbish heap? Snickering that he looked totally foolish and out of place? Shaking their heads in disbelief that Hermione Granger, looking so extraordinary tonight, would inexplicably choose him, Ron Weasley, as her partner?

Amidst the melodious, lingering notes of music echoing through the hall, these imagined disapproving voices kept interfering in his mind, growing louder and more persistent with each passing moment. He wanted desperately to refute these negative thoughts, to summon some scrap of self-confidence, but in his rising anxiety, he didn't know where to even begin.

Even if Hermione wasn't a Triwizard champion, she was still undeniably the most brilliant student at Hogwarts, and a well-known favorite of many professors for her talent and dedication.

As for himself, well, he wasn't famous like Harry, nor did he possess any of Harry's exceptional talent on the Quidditch pitch that won their House so many matches. He didn't even have the quiet, steady perseverance of Neville, who endured so many cold, disdainful stares in Professor Watson's physical education class without a word of complaint, never once considering just giving up.

No, he was just Ron Weasley - an ordinary bloke without any special abilities to distinguish himself, mostly unknown and unremarkable in the eyes of his peers. And although he had always desperately fantasized about one day proving he was unique, the small, painfully honest voice in his heart knew the disappointing truth - that he really was just a regular, average person.

When the last unsteady note faded into silence in the glittering ice castle, Ron felt his forehead and back drenched in cold sweat under his itchy old robes.

Glancing down guiltily, he noticed that in his clumsy, uncoordinated efforts, he had repeatedly trampled on the hem of Hermione's dress robes, leaving dirty scuff marks on the fabric. Embarrassed, he opened his mouth, to stammering out an ashamed apology, but before he could force out the words—

"Thank you, Ron—" The beautiful girl across from him spoke first, her warm tone was lacking even a hint of annoyance or reprimand.

Under the soft golden glow, their gazes met and intertwined. Hermione looked at Ron with a small, honest smile, while Ron could only stare back at her, momentarily dumbstruck.

In that brief instant, the ambient noise and chatter faded into the background and time itself seemed to stand still as their souls intersected, laying bare the deepest, most vulnerable thoughts and feelings in each other's hearts.

Ron's body began to tremble uncontrollably, his eyes were brimming with pain and anguish. He truly realized that he had lost something invaluable, far more precious than fame or talent.

Seized by desperation, Ron had the wild, reckless urge to throw his arms around Hermione and pour out his heart to her as he broke down sobbing. At the very least, he needed to choke out what he had always lacked the confidence to confess out loud - those three short, significant words: I like you!

She could clearly see Ron's inner turmoil and conflict in his anguished expression. With a faint smile on her lips, her eyes reflected understanding and tolerance for Ron. Silently, she reached out to give his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

We will always be best friends, Lifelong friends, no matter what.

Hermione conveyed to Ron with her eyes, slowly releasing Ron's hand.

"May I cut in for the next dance?" As one song ended, the small orchestra immediately struck up another, livelier tune. The eager young witches and wizards crowded below the stage couldn't wait any longer to join in, and so, a colorful flood of dress robes poured onto the dance floor.

Lavender looking quite stunning in robes of pale pink chiffon, highlighted with lavender embroidery in shining gold thread, neatly wove her way through the dancing couples. She cautiously sidestepped Fleur Delacour and nimbly dodged around Cho Chang, and her light blue eyes were firmly fixed on Ron as she hurried over to him.

Approaching Ron from behind, Lavender shot Hermione an uncertain, almost guilty glance from under her lashes, her hopeful gaze was flicking back to Ron's oblivious face.

"Sorry, what?" Ron blinked, still lost in a fog of gloomy self-examination was completely caught off guard by Lavender's sudden presence at his elbow. "Oh, no, I—" he started automatically.

"I just wanted to say, I thought you danced absolutely brilliantly just now!" Lavender blurted out as her eyes glowed with earnest admiration as she smiled up at him.

"Oh, go on then, Ron!" Though mildly surprised by her roommate's boldness, Hermione found she wasn't the least bit shocked that Lavender had asked Ron to dance. Smiling, she reached over to give the visibly hesitant Ron a light, encouraging nudge towards Lavender. "It would be a shame to refuse."

When Lavender took his larger hand in hers, Ron still wore a rather dazed expression, his eyes were darting back over his shoulder at Hermione's departing back as she calmly exited the stage.

Feeling strangely bereaved, as though all the air had been let out of him, he watched her go with a rising sense of melancholy. It was as if the chance to give voice to his churning feelings had slipped through his fingers.

Facing forward again, Ron looked at Lavender as if seeing her clearly for the first time. The blushing girl before him not only wore metallic gold thread on her robes, but her hair was also swept back by a gold-plated ornament, flashing brightly in the candlelight.

The overall effect was perhaps a touch overdone, but not at all unpleasant. More importantly, the glimmering light in her eyes as she gazed at him made Ron feel a rush of delight.

"Did you...did you really mean that? About me dancing well?" Ron couldn't stop himself from asking, hardly daring to believe it.

"Oh yes, absolutely!" Lavender readily confirmed, her voice sounding gasping with enthusiasm as she continued to look at Ron adoringly.

"Well... Alright then," Ron mumbled, his self-consciousness rapidly fading as his feet begin to sway in time with hers, the steps of the dance were already coming much more naturally than before.

The fleeting innocence of youth passes by without the benefit of a dress rehearsal, slipping through your fingers when you're too busy looking the other way. Sooner than it seems possible, without any fanfare or warning, the fates and futures that once ran on parallel tracks begin to diverge onto separate paths...

"I feel I must apologize to you, 'Arry..." On the way to the stage, Harry and Fleur undoubtedly attracted the most admiring eyes with their sheer presence. Fleur was easily the loveliest and most alluring girl in all of Hogwarts, while Harry's name was known by every young witch or wizard in Britain.

Of course, the ongoing spectacle of the Triwizard Tournament had shifted much of the student's focus to the champions this year, but that didn't mean that the Boy Who Lived was no longer the 'darling' of the British Wizarding World.

However, as the music began, Cedric and Cho gradually captured everyone's attention.

The handsome Hufflepuff champion and his brightly smiling Ravenclaw partner were a striking pair, their graceful, harmonious movements were as natural and fluid as a matched set of Waltzing Wizards.

As they danced around the dance floor with steps that seem perfectly synchronized, their locked gazes were so blatantly absorbed in one another it was as if they were lost in their own private world, invisible to the spectators.

And indeed, whispers of admiration flowed through the gazing onlookers below the stage. Even Harry had his attention relentlessly pulled toward Cedric and Cho, leaving no room to mind Ron's stumbling steps while he was dancing.

'They just look so...so right together,' Harry thought silently, something inside him cracked as he watched Cho light up, shining with happiness, secure in Cedric's arms as he expertly twirled her and spun her back. That pang in his chest confirmed what his head already knew - Cho had chosen very, very well in coming with Diggory tonight.

As he watched the two of them lost in each other's eyes, their faces covered in smiles, Harry felt his heart drop right into his stomach. He suddenly felt about two inches tall, the sour taste of defeat rose in his throat as he admitted that Cedric had defeated him yet again.

Beat him in Quidditch pitch, beat him in asking Cho to the Ball... Well, maybe 'beat' was too strong a word there, Harry admitted reluctantly. After all, he had never actually worked up the courage to get the words out and risk her rejection...

Unlike Ron, for once in his life Harry wasn't particularly worried about all the eyes fixed on him. No, it was the dancing couple ahead of him that made participating in this whole event weak, his forced smile were straining at the edges as he mechanically moved his feet in a sad estimation of the steps.

Cedric and Cho spinning in and out of his eye line, Fleur's silvery head occasionally turning around to glance at the head table, all of it combined to leave Harry feeling annoyed and restless, he gritted his teeth as he endured each excruciating minute until he could escape.

As the unseen musicians in the corner played a more frantic tempo, signaling the impending finale, Harry blew out a relieved breath, lifted by the thought that he was almost done with this. However, as he and Fleur moved into the next phase of the dance, Fleur suddenly said something that moment—

"Sorry, what was that?" Harry said distractedly. Then realizing his slip, he added on on a delayed, "I mean—No worries, it's fine. I don't mind—"

Stumbling over his words, Harry realized too late how dismissive that sounded out loud. Wincing, he tried a look at Fleur, who was looking at him from under one perfectly arched eyebrow, and there was undisguised surprise on her face.

"Zat is—Very chivalrous of you to say, 'Arry." Fleur recovered herself enough to flash him a little smile as she took firm control of their movements, steering them smoothly across the floor. "Per'aps I should be ze one to say...Merci."

Harry could feel his face heating in embarrassment, reading the implication in Fleur's words.

They both knew full well that Fleur would never have truly chosen him as a partner if she'd had her preferences. Heck, Harry wasn't entirely sure why he'd agreed to go through with this in the first place. Perhaps it was because Hermione and Ron came, so he came. Or perhaps it was because of his ridiculous, unwillingness to admit defeat?

"Zat girl - You like 'er very much, no?" Fleur's voice broke into his rapidly spiraling thoughts again, shaking him out of his miserable daydreaming.

Following her meaningful glance over to where Cedric was currently plunging Cho, Harry felt his stomach do an unpleasant flip-flop as all the blood promptly drained from his face. Too late, he realized his expression must have given him away.

"Why did you not ask 'er to come wiz you tonight?" Fleur pressed, watching his reaction closely, her blue eyes were gleaming with keen interest. "Did she ...refuse you?"

Fleur's blunt questions hit their mark with accuracy, as brutally effective as a Reductor Curse straight to the gut. Harry actually flinched as if she'd struck him, feeling like all the air had just been punched out of his lungs as he struggled for an acceptable response.

"That was my plan—" Harry's breath became erratic, his cheeks slightly flushed as he spoke. "But I didn't have time—"

"Oh—" Fleur's eyelashes fluttered. "When you meet a girl you like, you need to be braver, Harry. If you hesitate, you'll miss your chance."

Fleur said this, but after the words left her mouth, her expression oddly turned sullen. Just as Harry was slightly moved, and puzzled over what was wrong with Fleur, he saw her break into a smile again, winking at him playfully.

"Since you helped me, let me do you a favor—"

The music stopped and people flooded the dance floor.

"What are you going to do?" Harry didn't understand what Fleur was up to and asked in surprise.

"zis time, be a little braver—" Fleur gave Harry a slight smile. She nimbly walked past Hermione and Ron. Under Harry's nervous gaze, she approached Cedric and Cho. Raising her head, she flashed a dazzling smile at the surprised Cedric Diggory.

"Bonsoir Monsieur Diggory! Per'aps I could 'ave ze pleasure of your company for ze next dance?"

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