4.3 | Astoria ✓

13 | 2005

A/N

Including this one, there's just about four more chapters to go! I'm currently working on a project that's...pretty wild. Fifty points to whoever can guess it! (And no, it's not Finite.) Anyway, onwards...

x Noelle

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SHE SMOOTHES INVISIBLE wrinkles off her dress and swallows hard. The last time she's felt this anxious was during her parents trial. But back then, she'd been rather certain of the outcome—they would not be sentenced to Azkaban, because the jury didn't have enough evidence to prove that they were Voldemort's minions.

She doesn't know how tonight will turn out.

Soft music and bright light peek out from beneath the shut doors of the ballroom. She can only imagine how many reporters and photographers are in there, not to mention the plethora of guests invited for this special occasion. She's over an hour late, but as her mum would say, 'better late than never'. And the idea of never showing up tonight, at the Ministry's Third-Year Memorial & Charity Ball, is unthinkable.

It's been years since a Greengrass has made an appearance at a public event. But this new world belongs to her as much as it does to anyone else. After all, she helped fight for it. She takes a deep breath and reaches for the doors.

Time to show the world what Greengrasses are made of.

When she pushes the doors open, no one notices her at first. Light chatter and laughter bounce around the room; people flit about, mostly in groups of twos and threes, with bigger crowds sat at tables. But, gradually, the whispers begin. The stares. The flashing cameras.

She holds her head high, but it's hard not to let the attention get to her. Her throat tightens; the faces around begin to blur. She shouldn't be here. This was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea. She whirls around, ready to escape, only for someone to step into her path.

"You made it."

Ron's voice is quieter than usual, perhaps because of their spectators. But he doesn't seem to notice them. His blue eyes fix on her face. It's been a full month since they last met. She still remembers, with perfect clarity, how bright those very eyes had looked when he'd asked her about the Ministry ball.

"So are you going?" he'd asked, in between bites of the butter chicken they'd ordered in that night. Apparently, he'd taken them being colleagues as code for 'closer friends than ever'. He'd started showing up at her flat once every week, first with work complaints as an excuse, then to claim that his flat was too far and the Burrow too loud, so why couldn't he just have dinner here?

"Oh, that." She'd received the Ministry's invite days ago, but wasn't sure what to RSVP. She didn't think she would RSVP anything at all. "Maybe. I don't know. Harper did ask me to go with him, but I wasn't sure what to say."

Ron's eyes had narrowed. "You're going with that arse?"

"He's not an arse, he's my family's lawyer. He's the reason my parents didn't go to Azkaban."

"Yes, your great benefactor, the saviour of your world. Meanwhile, when I offered to help you, you wouldn't even consider it! Do you have to keep going on and on about him?"

"First of all, I didn't accept your help because I didn't want to make use of you. And secondly, I've only mentioned Harper twice in the entire course of our friendship."