Thanks Cyan for Beta-ing/Brit-picking

Harry's most recent, recurring nightmare goes like this: everyone has a date to the Yule Ball except for him.

Everyone. Every single living, breathing person in the entire castle has a plus one. Harry's left with no choice but to ask Moaning Myrtle. The whole school gawks as they dance their opening number, causing Myrtle to snivel and translucent, ghost snot to drip from her nose. Then his golden egg- that he brought to the ball for reasons which only make sense in dream logic- falls out from under his robes. It rolls and rolls across the dance floor until it reaches the feet of Draco Malfoy. He picks it up, and with a sinister smile, hurls it out the window and into the lake. Myrtle wails as it's swallowed up by the giant squid.

It's weird, but in a way it's nice to have normal nightmares about normal teenage things. His usual fare involve visions of a dark, half dead wizard and a pain like a hot brand pressed to his forehead. Still, he wants to tell his subconscious to knock it off with the reminders to get a date. He already gets an anxiety-inducing amount of them in his waking hours. Professor McGonagall's been on his tail about a dance partner. Fred and George shoot him goofy looks whenever a quote, "eligible bachelorette" walks within 10 feet of him. Ron's peppered him with bits of advice- though it's questionable since he hasn't asked anyone either- and Hermione's grown less and less sympathetic with him each passing day.

In short: he needs to get his act together and ask Cho. It's one question. One sentence, eight words. Will you go to the ball with me? Like everyone keeps saying- the worst she can do is say no.

Accio the courage to ask Cho to the Yule Ball.

"Accio potions essay."

Harry waits with an outstretched hand for his parchment to come whooshing at him. He's greeted with silence and a big, fat nothing. He grimaces. His eighth attempt at a summoning spell is just as unsuccessful as his first seven.

"Still no luck mate?" Ron looks up from his Divination homework and gives him a sympathetic look. "I'll let you copy mine if you want."

At the mention of the word 'copy', Hermione breaks her gaze from her Ancient Runes textbook to shoot them one of her signature glares. Brows furrowed, lips pursed, eyes stone cold. Ron squirms in his armchair and his ears turn bright red.

"Thanks Ron," Harry says, "but I think Snape will notice if we both hand in the same essay. It's not worth us both getting detention for."

"Yeah, you're probably right, and my essay's a load of rubbish anyway." He flashes Hermione a wide-eyed, woeful look. "Maybe if someone were to give it a read, y'know, check that everything's up to snuff… it won't be so dreadful."

"Yes Ron, I will look over your essay tonight." Hermione says. Her eyes stay glued to her textbook. "And Harry, do you remember the last place you had your essay?"

"Um… the library, I think."

"Then why don't you have a look there?"

Outside the portrait hole Harry makes one last-ditch attempt at summoning his essay. If it isn't in Gryffindor Tower, then it wouldn't have been able to get it past The Fat Lady. A piece of parchment can't recite the password, after all. But once again he turns up empty handed - literally. Harry sighs, tucks his wand into his pocket, and heads off for the library.

Harry's found at this time of year everyone retires to their common rooms early. It's a combination of the dwindling daylight, chilly weather, and extra homework their professors pile on before the holiday break. All the usual chatter and noise die away after the sun dips below the horizon. He passes a group of second years trading chocolate frog cards, then two ghosts deep in discussion about some medieval warlock he's never heard of but could probably find in his History of Magic textbook.

And then it's nothing but empty hallways. If it weren't for the crackling torchlight and his footsteps, he'd swear someone cast a silencing spell on every corridor. He doesn't spot another soul until he's heading down the main staircase. There, standing next to an enormous Christmas tree, is Cho Chang.

Harry's almost trips over the trick stair. He does a double take to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him. They aren't. Cho's really standing there, reading a piece of parchment with a tiny grin. Her whole face seems to glow under the soft Christmas lights. And she's alone. No people, no ghosts, no wandering Mrs. Norris. lf he had The Marauder's Map the nearest person would show up floors away.

Harry scrambles down the stairs before they spin off in the opposite direction.

"Hey Cho."

Cho looks up from her parchment and her smile broadens. He tries to keep calm but his heart is hammering and his hands go cold and clammy. He stuffs them into his pockets. Merlin, why is he so nervous?

"Hi Harry."

"Err… how are you doing?"

"I'm all right, what about you?"

"Good. I'm uh… I'm doing okay."

And now the pleasantries are out of the way. Here's the part where he asks her to the ball. But his throat is bone dry, his tongue won't move, and the passing silence is veering into awkward territory. The worst she can do is say no, he repeats in his head.

"Cho-"

"So... are you my secret admirer?" Cho asks.

"Err… sorry?" Harry hopes she doesn't notice his reddening face.

"Oh." Her face falls, "I got this letter this morning. I was sort of hoping it might be from you."

Cho holds up the parchment. He leans in to read it, squinting In the dim light. In handwriting far neater than his, the letter asks Cho to meet them under the big Christmas tree at seven o'clock this evening. Harry glances at an ancient grandfather clock next to him. The little hand rests on VII, and the big hand hovers between XII and I.

"Sorry, I didn't write your letter." he says, "But there is something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh? What's that?"

Cho stares at him with expectant eyes, her lips parted just so. Harry's caught off guard by how nice she smells. Like flowers and Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish. He takes a deep breath. His nerves are going to eat him alive if he doesn't spit it out already.

"Err… Cho, would you-"

But he's cut off by a set of heavy footsteps clambering down the stairs. He and Cho jump back- were they really standing so close?- and they squint at the figure at the bottom of the stairs. Cedric Diggory is pink-faced and out of breath, holding a bar of Honeyduke's chocolate in one hand and a single, red rose in the other.

"Cho, I am so sorry for making you wait. Those damn staircases. I've gone to school here for six years, you think I'd know how they work by now."

Well, there's one mystery solved. Cedric is Cho's secret admirer. Harry's struck by two thoughts. One, Cedric's plan to get her alone with a letter is bloody brilliant. He's kicking himself for not thinking of it first. And two, he can't believe he's gone and stolen Cedric's spotlight again. First the Triwizard Tournament, now this. Cedric had this all planned, and he stumbled in at the right time to wreck the whole thing.

Cedric flashes them a boyish grin. Harry's reminded of how his smile makes the girls on his Quidditch team swoon. Even he feels a little weak in the knees. Did someone add an extra log to the fire, or was it always this warm in here?

Harry blinks and shakes his head. Cedric's only smiling at Cho, not the both of them. And Cho is grinning back.

"Uh... nevermind, Cho." Harry says, "It's not important."

"Oh no. I'm not interrupting, am I?" Cedric asks.

"Honestly, it's nothing."

"Really, I don't mind. Go ahead and finish your conversation."

Cedric and Cho give him a reassuring smile. And Harry's trapped. It's too late to bolt up the staircase without looking like he's about to be sick- or worse, rude. Damn Cedric and his politeness. Can't he see he's trying to do him a favor?

"Well… I was going to ask you to the Yule Ball, Cho, but I think that's what you're about to do, Cedric, so uh… yeah."

Harry winces and rubs the back of his neck. He's not sure where to go from here. Probably the best thing to do is leave and let them get on with it. Maybe it will sting less if he doesn't have to watch. If he doesn't hear Cedric saying the same words he's rehearsed in his head for weeks. If he doesn't see Cho's delighted response.

The worst she can do is say no. What a load of rubbish that turned out to be. Harry turns on his heel, but only manages a few steps before Cho calls after him.

"Harry, forgive me if I'm wrong, but isn't it my decision who I take as my date?"

Harry stops walking.

"Yeah, but-"

"So let me decide."

Cho's gaze flicks between them. First at him, then Cedric, and repeat. She's toying with him, biting at her thumbnail and not saying a word. Either that or she's coming up with a gentle way to let him down. She's going to pick Cedric. It's hardly a competition. He's older, taller, more handsome, probably a better dancer too. He showed up with chocolates and flowers, not ink-stained hands and robes with too short sleeves. His hair doesn't stick up like he just flew a dozen laps around the quidditch pitch. Instead it falls disheveled in that nice, tousled way Harry envies.

"I'm sorry." Cho says, "I don't who know to choose. I like both of you a lot."

"Then go ahead and take Harry." Cedric says, "It's only fair, he asked you first."

"No- I didn't ask first! You did with your letter."

"That doesn't count. Really it's fine. You were right about to ask when I barged in."

"Yes, but the only reason I tried asking is because Cho was alone. And the only reason Cho was alone is because you set it up."

"Oh please, I don't want you to argue over me." Cho says, "There's got to be a good solution to this. I mean, I think I'd have a fun time going with either of you. If there was a way to take both of you, I would."

"Then why not take both of us?" Harry blurts, without thinking. He fights the urge to clasp his hands over his mouth.

It's only after the words escape his lips and float in the air around them does he realize what a lousy idea he's come up with. They can't both take Cho to the Ball. How would this even work? There must be a rule somewhere that says only one date is allowed per person. Sure, Cho says she can't choose between them, but that doesn't mean she wants two dates. And Cedric doesn't want to share his date with someone else. Harry braces himself for the scoff and disapproving shake of the head they're bound to give him.

But Cedric and Cho exchange a glance and share a relieved smile.

"I think that's a great idea, Harry." Cho says, "I could spend part of the evening with each of you. Or we could go as a group? What do you think, Cedric?"

"Sounds perfect! Can't believe I didn't think of it myself."

"Well, I guess it's settled." Cho says.

"I guess so." He says. And he's smiling along with them, all the tension in his shoulders gone. For the first time since Professor McGonagall announced the ball, he's actually looking forward to going.

"Oh, before I forget, these are for you." Cedric holds up the rose and chocolate bar. He offers them to Cho, but his eyes lock with Harry's and he bites his lip. "I guess I should split these up, huh?"

Harry reaches for the chocolate bar, his hand mere milliseconds faster than Cho's. Her hand rests atop his, while his hand is on Cedric's.

"Oh, do you want-" Harry says.

"No, go ahead."

"It's fine, I'll-"

"I insist."

Harry takes the chocolate bar and hands it to Cho, ending the discussion. Which leaves him with the flower. Gingerly, he takes it. And it might be his imagination or a trick of the light, but a faint blush sweeps across Cedric's cheeks.

Cho peels away the foil and breaks off three squares, keeping one and offering one to each of them. Harry grabs his with his free hand, but Cedric grins and shakes his head.

"No, I couldn't. It's a gift for you."

"Cedric, I insist. I have plenty and I want to share."

They go back and forth a few times before Cedric relents and takes the chocolate square. Harry can't help but smile at them.

"Well, uh… cheers." Cedric says. He holds up his square as though it was a glass of champagne. He and Cho follow suit.

This isn't at all what Harry expected, but it works. They work.

"So did you find your essay, Harry?" Ron asks.

It doesn't appear Harry's missed much in his absence. Ron and Hermione haven't moved from their place beside the fire. Hermione's still scribbling furiously into a spiral notebook. Ron's finished his Divination work- or given up on it- and is playing a game of wizard chess against himself.

"Err.. no," he says, "But I did ask Cho to the Yule ball."

Ron's chess pieces whine as he drops his bishop, scattering a knight and several pawns across the board. Hermione's quill comes to a halt, and it drips thick, black ink blots onto her parchment. They both stare at him wide-eyed and eager.

"Well, what did she say?" Hermione asks.

"She said yes."

The two of them break out into huge grins. Ron gets up from his chair and claps him on the shoulder.

"Brilliant! I knew you could do it!" He says.

"Congrats Harry, I'm really happy for you!"

"Thanks."

Harry flops into his armchair, kicks his feet up on the ottoman, and hides his face in his hands. His goofy, satisfied grin seems to be stuck to his face.

It takes a moment, but their excitement calms down. Ron goes back to his game, muttering an apology to his chess set. Hermione waves her wand, casting a spell to remove the spilled ink, and carries on writing in a language that looks like utter nonsense to him. Harry reaches for his school bag. He undoes the front clasp, and a crumpled up piece of parchment shoots out, thwacking him in the face. So that's where his essay's been hiding. Lucky Ron and Hermione don't notice. He smooths it out and intends to start up on it, but he can't stop smiling. His brain only wants to think about the Yule Ball.

"Err… Harry, why have you got a flower?"

Harry blinks. Ron's voice pulls him out of his head and back into the moment. He's been wearing a vacant smile and twiddling Cedric's rose between his fingers without realizing.

"Oh. Cedric gave it to me."

Ron and Hermione share a confused look, seeming to only communicate with their eyebrows.

"And uh… why did Cedric give you a rose?" Hermione asks.

"Because Cho wanted the chocolate."

Harry launches into an explanation. How he and Cedric asked Cho to the ball at almost the same time. How they didn't want to force her to choose between them. How he came up with their compromise. When he finishes Ron and Hermione still look as though someone stupefied them.

"So you're going to the ball with Cho… and Cedric?" Ron asks.

"No! I mean, yes! I mean-" he sighs, "I'm going to the ball with both of them, but I'm only going to the ball with Cho. You know, as a date."

"And Cho is also going to the ball with Cedric? As a date?" Hermione asks.

"Yes."

"And you and Cedric?"

"Are not going together. At least, not like that."

He wishes they would stop looking at him like he's some puzzle they need to solve. They're making this needlessly complicated. His potions homework is complicated. His golden egg riddle is complicated. This isn't complicated. He's taking a pretty girl to the Yule Ball. And if another guy (who just so happens to be quite handsome himself) wants to tag along with them…

Well, there are worse ways to spend an evening.

I'm thinking there's only going to be one more chapter, but it might be two depending on how I split it up.

Favorites and Comments are appreciated! (and might make the next chapter(s) come faster ;) )