Lemon Grass and Sleep

THE YULE BALL

"No," I mumbled, "She's always early for everything, I'm getting a bit worried."

"Well, maybe she already went in for some reason."

"I don't think so," I gave one last look around, hoping she'd just appear.

"Let's go ahead and look," George and Angelina led the way into the ball.

Things were already pretty much in full swing as we walked in, and I was relieved when only a few heads turned to look our way. A bad feeling settled in my stomach when I still couldn't spot Glinda in the crowd.

"Perhaps she had a clothing mishap," Fred guessed, pulling me by the arm over to the punch table. George and Angelina quickly devolved into conversation as we left them behind.

Angelina. She had been the girl sitting next to Fred in the library on Valentine's, as soon as her hand had touched me I felt a wave of anxiety. Seeing her stand next to George, laughing and smiling made me queasy. I could so easily picture it was Fred, because of the whole twin thing obviously. It did no favors for my insecurity, I guess.

"You know, people usually don't think so hard at parties," Fred leaned down to talk in my ear so I could hear him. He smirked and lifted his glass to take a sip from his drink as he held out a similar looking glass of red punch to me.

"Sorry," I apologized, looking away from George and Angelina to try and spot Glinda.

"If you keep looking at my brother like that, I'm going to start thinking you've confused us," Fred gripped my shoulder as he leaned down to speak to me again. I froze in place and felt a blush dust over my cheeks and ears.

"Whatever," I mumbled, brushing my ear off and taking a sip of my punch to cool me down.

Slowly, everyone seemed to migrate to the dance floor, and soon my cup was empty and Fred was looking at me expectantly.

"Am I supposed to be the one to ask you to dance?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Yes, I would love to," he smiled in response, letting out a laugh that was covered up by music at me being caught off guard. We were surrounded by a wall of other people, and I looked down at Fred's chest to avoid seeing anyone staring at us.

We danced for a little bit, I could see Cedric and Cho a bit away from us, as well and George and Angelina. The music began to die off a little bit, and waltz music began to drift around the room.

I swallowed thickly as I felt Fred pick up my hand, and I looked up to find him smiling at me.

"Might I have this dance?" He asked officially, and I couldn't give any response other than a sharp nod.

Just as Glinda had predicted, his hand immediately gravitated toward the small of my back as he went about leading me. I won't lie, it did feel a bit magical. And for a while I even forgot there were other people around us.

"I can tell you practiced," Fred commented, still speaking into my ear every time so I could hear him.

"Glinda helped," I mumbled, glad the lighting in here was dim as I felt my face heat up.

We spun around, taking trips around the dance floor as gowns billowed around us and the couples interchanged. The song felt like it went on forever, but I'm not really complaining. Eventually I decided to be brave and take a glance around the room.

And there she was, on the stairs with her chest heaving with heavy breaths and a look of horrible emotional pain on her face.

"Glinda?" I said softly to myself, immediately knitting my eyebrows in confusion. Worry overtook me as I watched her turn sharply and all but run back out of the door.

"What?"

"Glinda, she was just by the door," I spoke up, "She looked really upset."

"What for?" He asked, "She hasn't been here pretty much the entire time."

"I need to go after her," I looked into Fred's eyes and tried to ignore the guilt from the disappointment evident on his face.

"Yeah, you probably should. Just come back fast, okay?"

"Of course," and with that, I took off from the dance floor and scaled the steps quickly.

Glinda was peeking out from the corner of a hallway, and gestured me over with her hand.

"Glinda," I breathed out as I approached, my eyes widening as I took in her appearance.

What I hadn't seen in the ballroom was that her makeup was running from the amount of tears pooling in her eyes and dripping down constantly. From the shoulders down she looked perfect, just as I had pictured, but above that was a mess.

"What happened?" I asked, pulling her into a hug.

"He has a date, Thomas," she hiccuped. "And it isn't me."