Original A/N: Last one, practically all description. Please review and let me know what you think. If anything, let me know which of the five scenarios was your favorite! Thanks for reading!

UPDATED A/N: So I've been having comp issues over the past few months, which doubled a couple of weeks ago when the computer on which I'd been writing my current stories got stolen (gotta love when your car's broken into...oh wait, no, there's no love for that). I had rewritten this chapter, but that version is on my stolen comp. My current comp has a muddled harddrive, so I haven't been motivated to write, being way too frustrated to rewrite my lost ideas until recently. Anyway, sorry for this being overdue. Thank you for being such great readers, I've really appreciated the feedback!

Disclaimer: I don't own HP.

SCENARIO 5: Ask with a Gesture Rather than Conversation

Dinner time in the Great Hall was becoming an even crazier affair than normal, what with three additional schools camped on the premises. Every Hogwarts house was alive with chatter about the tournament and subsequent ball. Some were excited to see what the tournament challenges would be. Others were chatting about who had asked who to the ball, who people were thinking about asking, and what the whole affair would be like.

For one Fred Weasley, the prospect of the ball was already nerve-wracking enough without everyone else talking about it. He hadn't asked anyone yet. The one person he really wanted to go with was still free, as far as he was aware. It was simply a matter of gathering the courage to ask her before anyone else did.

But how was he expected to do that when she was sitting right bloody next to him, chatting away at the exact topic with a girl friend?

As his brothers talked with other friends across the table, Fred drank his pumpkin juice and tried to eavesdrop on the girls' conversation. Apparently, Angelina was still free. Yes, Angelina was hoping that someone would ask her, someone in particular. Who could that be? No, of course she wouldn't admit who that was; only the better to frustrate all eavesdroppers, my dear. Well, what if that guy didn't ask her? Would she ask him out? This is what her girl friend asked, and Fred mentally applauded the interviewer; yes, what would Angelina do? She wasn't sure. She'd rather the guy ask her but if he didn't, it would probably be because he had someone else in mind for his date. Did she ever sound so disappointed, Fred thought, because this guy hadn't even made a move yet; this guy must be a complete twit. But the girl friend encouraged Angelina, saying that there's enough time left. And what if another guy asked her to go instead of her ideal date? Fred took a big bite of his pastry. Angelina shrugged in response, her shoulders brushing Fred's body. Turning to face him, she seemed flushed as she apologized, as though immediately embarrassed about something. Not bothered in the least bit, Fred smiled at her, his cheeks puffed out with pastry. When she turned back to her friend, he berated himself for not chewing smaller bites as Mum always lectured. Well, Angelina surmised she'd go with someone else, but it wouldn't be as much fun as her ideal date.

Fred took all of this into consideration until Ron called at him from the opposite side of the table. Fred nodded and answered his little brother's question, which George echoed in amusement. As that conversation continued, the girls' conversation turned toward Victor Krum. Fred rolled his eyes, having hoped that Ron's obsession wouldn't be matched by everyone else's at school. His hopes had been dashed.

Dinner was over sooner than expected, and the houses broke up to return to their respective rooms. Angelina walked ahead with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, their words lost in the murmuring sea of Gryffindors. Fred hung back with George and Lee Jordan, thinking to himself about how to ask Angelina to the ball. It wasn't a huge deal after all; they were close friends, and she was one of the few girls around which he could be himself, both trickster and regular. But there was someone she really wanted to ask her. Who could that be? And would he then be immediately rejected if he asked her? Harry came up to him in that moment and asked him about this-and-that. Fred answered him the best that he could, amused that the this-and-that referred to girls and dating. Seeing that Harry had never had the type of family bonding that was inherent with the Weasleys, Fred was more than happy to be an older brother and provide some advice. Harry nodded his thanks, then ran to catch up with a disgruntled Hermione. Ron must've done something, again.

A few of the Gryffindors lingered in the common room, where Fred took roost on a couch to further consider his options. How would he ask Angelina? He could make it into a comedic moment as expected of him; maybe do it in public to defuse any tension he'd feel otherwise. He could tell that Harry and Ron were struggling, so he could help them out by showing them the ropes. Or he could grab Angelina after class and just throw it out there? But oh, the witnesses in case she rejected him. He wasn't always so great with spontaneous speech, especially when it came to matters like asking out the girl of his dreams. They did have dance lessons coming up, and he had been practicing. Oh yes, when he'd found out that there would be a ball this year, he came to school prepared. This had consisted of having Mrs. Weasley show him the dance moves over and over again in the Burrow when everyone else was out or asleep. As embarrassing as it had been to learn to dance with his hands on his Mum's waist, it was still loads better than learning on Professor McGonagall. Poor Ronniekins. Maybe he could ask Angelina to the ball after showing her how much he'd prepared for the dance just so he'd be less concerned about stepping on her toes and more focused on just enjoying her presence, her hand in his. If that didn't work, then maybe he could concoct some silly bet just to take the edge off of him asking her out, channeling her attention on the fairness of the call. But she was so good at so many things, how would a bet even work out? And would she even accept a date as terms for a bet? Perhaps George could ask her out for him… Nah, George would tell him to do it himself and own up.

Well, what did that leave him with? Fred sat up and looked across the room where Angelina was talking to Hermione. The older Gryffindor seemed to be comforting the younger one on some matters. Angelina caught Fred's stare and she gave him a timid smile, shrugging her shoulders as though to answer some unspoken question about Hermione's condition. He returned her timid smile before falling backward on the couch.

Barely a moment later, he looked upward into the rich brown eyes of none other than his mind's tormentor.

"'Ello," he greeted her softly.

"Hi there," she returned, descending to rest her elbows on the couch's arm, dropping her knees on the ground.

"How're you? Haven't seen much of you today," Fred asked while rolling over onto his stomach to look her more comfortably in the eye.

She tucked renegade strands of hair behind her ears, avoiding his glance for a brief second. "I'm all right."

"You don't seem so all right," he countered, noting the evasion and a sheen of sadness in her eyes.

Her eyebrow raised a little. "Why do you say that?"

"I know you better than that," he whispered softly as a pair of laughing classmates walked past them. "What's got you upset?"

"I'm fine. Really, Fred. Just wishing things were going a little differently."

"What things?"

She shrugged shyly. "This whole ball thing. It's what's got everyone frazzled. It's why I've been trying to cheer up Hermione most of this evening. Disappointment's like a really bad chain spell gone horribly wrong."

He felt his heart twitch. "The ball, huh? This wouldn't have anything to do with having a date, would it?"

"How'd you know?"

"What, you don't have one yet?"

"Nope." She exhaled deeply, leaning her cheek on one arm. "Not even close. Don't think it'll happen this late in the game."

"I wouldn't say that," he softly prophesized.

"And what makes you say that?"

"Well, who wouldn't want to take you?" he offered with a slight stutter.

"Apparently the entire school considering I come before you, dateless," Angelina responded with a dramatic head bow.

As much as Fred didn't necessarily want to know the answer (in case he wasn't the answer), he felt inclined to think of her best interest. So he asked, "Is there someone you want to go with? ...Maybe you should ask him yourself?"

She tried to look at him directly but blushed in response, waving the moment away with ignorance. "Enough about me. What about you, Fred? You got your date?"

"I'm still working on it," he admitted with a half-smile.

"Well, don't wait too long." Angelina stood up, gently rubbing her knees in the process. Fred swallowed hard at the sadness she was trying to hide behind her veil of hair as she pretended to soothe her skin. He really needed to move fast; he hated seeing her confidence waver. But just as he opened his mouth, he felt her hand gently land on his head and sweep through his messy locks. "And make it count. If the lucky girl's anything like me right now, she could use an encouraging gesture sooner rather than later. Night Fred," she told him before walking away.

Fred collapsed face-first into a pillow, feeling the pressure increase ten-fold in her last statement. Right. He was doomed. This "asking" process was harder than he figured. He continued to think as George walked past the couch, patting his twin on the head as a gesture of empathy.

**

Angelina laid dead awake, tossing on top of her bed covers. It had been a long day, and her thoughts were occupied with various unanswered questions. Until a soft thud against the window disrupted her insomnia. Sitting upright, she looked over to see a little grey owl perched on the window ledge, shaking itself right. She opened the window to let Pigwigeon inside, who presented his leg to her. Unraveling the note, she was surprised to find a handful of her favorite candies inside the pouch-like piece of parchment. She patted Pig's head and offered him an owl treat; she then smiled as she read the note, popping a piece of candy into her mouth. Finding a quill and ink from her bedside, she scrawled her response and tied it to his leg. The little owl hooted softly in response and flew zigzag out of the room.

**

Fred laid dead awake, tossing on top of his bed covers. It had been a long day, and his thoughts were occupied with the anxious fears of how she'd take his message. A soft thud against the window disrupted his contemplation, and he let inside the headache-suffering family owl. Opening the familar piece of paper, he read over the note, which had a new handwriting on it.

His original scrawl said the following:

Will you go to the ball with me?

O Yes

O No

O Maybe, if the guy I want to ask me doesn't do so

From Fred

P.S. Enjoy the candy as you think about it.

Her handwriting had made the following indications:

Will you go to the ball with me?

X Yes

Maybe, if the guy I want to ask me doesn't do so = Fred, there's no one else I want to go with.

From Angelina

-

Just as he finished, Fred looked up from the parchment to hear a soft tapping on the glass, followed by the sight of a familiar witch perched on her broomstick. Moving carefully acrossed the shared dorm room, Fred quietly opened the window to peer up at one flying Angelina. In this rare moment of voluntary rule-breaking (by flying to the boys' quarters in the middle of the night without supervision), she was clad in a modest pair of pajama pants and a tank top. But above all things, it was her smile in slow motion that drew his eyes: the corners lifted, the lips curled, the eyes twinkled, and her hair curtained the head's bow as she hid from his sight. Fred found her absolutely gorgeous. Humble beauty.

"What're you doing out here?" he reprimmanded, though his whispering voice clearly indicated his amusement and joy at her presence. He rested his elbows on the window's ledge as she maneuvered her broom to hover closer to him.

"I forgot to put this in the note," she told him, offering him her closed hand. Fred opened his palm and felt her transfer small objects into his grasp. "I wanted you to enjoy this with me," she explained. They were a few pieces of the candy he'd sent to her.

"Cheers," he replied, smiling until he took note of her timid expression.

"I'm sure you'll find this silly but... Just for the record, you haven't asked me only because..." she began until Fred reached up and popped one of the candy balls into her mouth, stifling her speech.

"No, Angel, I didn't ask you out of pity. None of that, love. I really want to go with you," he interjected.

"Really?" she asked, the candy ball protruding from one of her cheeks as though she was a chipmunk.

He grinned. "Really."

"Oi, lovelies, this is touching. But can this wait till tomorrow? Sleep time," a groggy Lee requested from deep in the room.

"Sorry Lee," both Angelina and Fred apologized.

"All right then," said Fred. Standing tall, he leaned forward to catch Angelina off guard with a kiss on the candy-protruding cheek. Pulling away, Fred popped a piece of candy into his own cheek, mirroring her image. "Thanks for sharing," he told her with a wink.

Momentarily stunned, she broke into another slow motion smile. "Any time. Goodnight, Fred."

"Goodnight, Angel," he whispered as she disappeared around the corner.

All smiles, Fred flopped back onto his bed. He held her note against his chest and couldn't do anything except grin as his roommates snored back into oblivion. Elsewhere in the Gryffindor house, Angelina quietly closed the window and laid back on her bed, all smiles. The two enjoyed a piece of candy with each other from afar as the night twinkled on.

**

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One last time, please review!!!