On Christmas morning after breakfast, Marjorie finds herself wrapped up tight in a brand-new warm cloak (a Christmas gift from her grandmother) as she sits in the freezing cold greenhouse, watching Neville tend to the Leaping Toadstools.

"-and then Professor Sprout said that she was so impressed with my interest in Herbology, that I was welcome to come to any of the greenhouses whenever I wanted!" Neville was saying as he struggled to keep the toadstools rooted in the soil -- they kept  slipping through his fingers and bouncing away.

Marjorie narrowly dodges a toadstool that leaps right at her head. "That's fantastic Nev, but why'd you ask me to come?"

Neville frowns at her as though he can't quite comprehend the question. "Well, I didn't want to be on my own on Christmas."

That's a perfectly fair point, and Marjorie feels bad for asking. "Oh, well, I'm obviously delighted to spend time with you," She says, shivering a little, "But it's a bit cold, isn't it?"

"A bit, yeah." Neville snatches another toadstool out of the air as it makes a bid for freedom. His nose is bright red and a little runny, but he looks perfectly content as he pats down the dirt. "It's strange, being at Hogwarts for Christmas. Isn't it?"

Marjorie hums, tucking her face into her scarf. "Yeah, it is." She says quietly. The castle is beautiful, all done up in floating candles and stunning wreaths and garlands, but the two cousins are far more used to spending their Christmas Days in St Mungo's.

Neville finally succeeds in keeping the toadstools rooted, and sits back to remove his gloves. "I feel sort of guilty." He admits, his voice so low that Marjorie has to strain to hear. "I mean, I'm excited for the ball tonight, but I feel like I shouldn't be. Like, it's wrong to be so looking forward to something when we usually spend the day with- with them."

"Neville." Marjorie says, her voice exceptionally soft. "Don't do that to yourself. Your parents would want you to have fun."

Neville stares contemplatively at the toadstools, who are now huddling together in the soil for warmth. "Yeah." He says at last, still quiet, before raising his eyes to his cousin and smiling. "Come on, let's get you inside. I think your lips are turning blue."

Accepting the abrupt change of subject with grace, Marjorie gets to her feet and follows Neville out of the greenhouses. The grounds of Hogwarts are covered in a thick layer of snow that Marjorie and Neville have to hop across in a most undignified manner. She's quite sure that they look utterly ridiculous as they clutch each other's arms and take leaping, bounding steps over the snowdrifts, but neither of them could care less, laughing the whole way back to the castle.

Marjorie is fantasizing about about a nice hot mug of tea and warming herself up by the fire before she begins to get ready for the ball, and as a result she doesn't notice the group of laughing and shouting Gryffindors they're walking walking passed until something cold and wet smacks her in the face so forcefully that she's knocked clean off her feet and back into a pile of snow.

"Oh shit!"

"Maggie?" Neville yelps, diving to help her back to her feet. "Are you alright?"

Marjorie blinks snow out of her eyelashes, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. When she looks up, she sees Ron Weasley hurrying over looking distinctly mortified. "Bloody hell, Marjorie, I'm so sorry! I wasn't aiming at you, I swear!"

"Oh, that's alright." Marjorie says, her cheeks pinking as she allows Neville to help her struggle to her feet. She can't be annoyed at Ron when it looks as though his face is going even redder than hers. "No harm done!"

Over her shoulder Marjorie can hear laughter, and when she turns she sees the twins grinning as they watch the interaction. Their cheeks and noses are red from the cold, despite the fact that they're well-wrapped up in matching scarves and hats, and their eyes are gleaming with mirth. "Damn, Ron!" Fred calls, grinning from ear to ear.

"What did Longbottom ever do to you?" George finishes, snickering.

"I was aiming for you, you absolute wankers!" Ron yells hotly, and is promptly hit in the face with another snowball courtesy of Fred, which causes the twins to fall about howling with laughter all over again. Ron wipes the snow of his face and glowers at them. "Arseholes."

Marjorie sighs and turns to Neville, ready to finally return inside, but stops short when she sees him looking longingly at the laughing boys hurling handfuls of snow and ice at each other. The twins appear to have bewitched an enormous snow fortress, and charmed dozens of snowballs to rain down upon their opponents at two-minute intervals.

"Why don't you stay out here, Nev," Marjorie suggests lightly, "I'll head in myself."

"Are you sure, Maggie?" Neville asks, unable to hide his eager look towards the snowball fight.

"Yeah, of course." Marjorie smiles, and ruffles his hair. "Go on, enjoy yourself."

Neville beams at her, and sets off towards the group of boys at a run. "I'll see you later!" He shouts over his shoulder, before diving headfirst behind Harry's snow castle.

Marjorie peers at her dress, lying on her bed amongst the torn wrapping paper. Admittedly, it's not nearly as bad as she was expecting -- she had been quite nervous leaving the picking of a dress up to her grandmother, but she had done a decent job.

"It's nice, Marjorie." says Alicia earnestly, patting the skirt of it.

The dress is powder blue, with a heavily embroidered bodice and a voluminous skirt that brushes the floor. It looks a bit like it was pulled from the last century, and it does bear a rather striking resemblance to a set of curtains that Marjorie swears she saw hanging in her Gran's bedroom, but it'll do for the occasion. It's nowhere near as glamorous or... modern as some of the other girls' dresses, but that's fine. Marjorie thinks that she'd probably look a bit ridiculous if she tried to make herself as glamorous as the other girls anyway.

"Put it on!" Katie urges from her bed. She's already wearing her dress; a beautiful silvery number that flows over her body like river-water. She's patting at her stomach critically, though, "Blimey, I shouldn't have had that third portion at lunch. I feel like I'm about to burst right out."

"Oh, shut up, Katie, you look magnificent." Angelina rolls her eyes as she slips into her own beautiful dress robes, a stunning buttery gold colour that looks strikingly gorgeous against her dark skin.

Marjorie hesitantly draws the curtain around her bed as she strips and begins to wiggle into her own dress. It fits well (of course it does, Gran has been buying her dresses for most of her life and probably knows Marjorie's measurements better than Marjorie does herself), but it certainly isn't anywhere near as lovely as the other girls' dresses. That's okay, though; Marjorie thinks it suits her all the more for that.

She steps nervously out from behind the curtain, and Alicia is the first to see her. "Oh, you look very nice, Marjorie!" She says warmly, and steps forward to lace up the back without being asked.

"Thank you." Marjorie says nervously, fidgeting. "You all look very beautiful."

She means her compliment wholeheartedly -- all three of them look as though they might have stepped out of a storybook. Katie beams at her, then gestures her over to sit down in front of her. "Want me do your hair?"

Marjorie sits down and allows Katie to pull her hair up into an elegant little up-do. Unused to having her hair played with by another person, Marjorie ends up fidgeting anxiously with her hands until Katie is done. She's used to simply tying her hair back with a ribbon, so having it styled is certainly a novelty.

After what seems like an extraordinarily short amount of time, it's time to leave for the ball. Marjorie is simply a bundle of nerves, practically bouncing out of her skin the entire way from the dormitory to the Entrance Hall. At one point Katie has to grab onto her wrist to stop her from falling headlong down the stairs, and Marjorie has to force her jitters down. When they reach the Entrance Hall, they find that it's practically overflowing with students trying to find and meet up with their dates and their friends. Marjorie follows the girls through the crowd, sticking closely to Alicia, who's unafraid to clear the way with her sharp little elbows.

"Ah, there they are!"

It seems as though all the Gryffindors have met up in the same corner of the Entrance Hall; Seamus is there with Lavender Brown, Harry and Ron (who's dressed in dress robes that look to be even more old fashioned than Marjorie's, much to her guilty relief) are there with the Patil twins, Neville is there with Ginny Weasely (who looks as pretty as ever), and the twins stand to the side, looking very handsome indeed in their dress robes. Marjorie wondered how it was the twins came to be wearing such well-fitting and handsome dress robes when Ron was stuck looking like an over-embroidered doily, and she supposed that the twins were possibly wearing Bill or Charlie's old robes while Ron was stuck with... well. Whoever owned those ones.

"Maggie, you look wonderful!" Neville beams. He's practically glowing with enthusiasm and excitement, and it makes Marjorie's heart swell to see him so happy.

"You look very handsome yourself, Nev!" She says cheerfully, and smiles at Ginny. "And you look very pretty, Ginny."

As the others begin to meet up with their dates, Marjorie begins to cast a careful eye around the hall. She has a brief moment of panic where she wonders if perhaps Kolya has forgotten about her, or if he'd perhaps changed his mind, but then the third time she looks around the hall she spots his dark wavy hair. Relieved, she moves away from the group chattering behind her and over to him, trying to shake the irrational fear that he had forgotten that he had asked her in the first place.

"Um, hello." She says once she reaches him, shy and a little awkward.

He turns from where he had been chatting with two other Durmstrang boys, and when his eyes land on her it takes a moment for recognition to spark. "Ah, Margaret!" He says with a polite smile, "Good evening!"

"Er- Marjorie, actually-" Marjorie begins to correct him nervously, but he's already turned back to his friends to introduce her as his date so she decides to just smile at them. It doesn't really matter, anyway.

The dinner they're served just before the dancing is perhaps some of the best food that Marjorie has ever eaten in her life. The sentiment is clearly shared, as most everyone has tucked in enthusiastically. Beside her, Kolya seems to be enjoying the goulash immensely.

Across the table from her is Neville, who is chatting happily away with Ginny over his dinner, and beside him is Seamus and Lavender. A little further down the table, George is grinning wickedly as his date (a very pretty French girl from Beauxbatons), whispers something in his ear. Opposite him, Fred and Angelina are snorting with laughter over some unheard story. Marjorie has to consciously stop her eyes from wandering over to them.

"Your castle is very strange." Kolya says, his eyes gazing intently at the candles floating overhead. The Great Hall looks positively magical, with fairy lights and floating Christmas trees, garlands and wreaths and grand tables all set out for guests.

"Oh?" Marjorie says politely, "Is Durmstrang very different?"

"It is not so big," Kolya shrugs, eyeing the decorations with an air of mild awe, "And much, much colder. We are not allowed fires unless for magical purposes. Professor Karkaroff says this is to make us tough."

Marjorie glances at the Headmaster of Durmstrang, who is scowling down at his own dinner. "Oh." She says, rather surprised. "That sounds awful."

Kolya shrugs, though it isn't clear whether he agrees or not. "It also does not accept Muggle-borns, like here." He says neutrally, gazing around at the students gathered in the Hall, "And we are taught mainly, how do you say... martial magic? For fighting."

Marjorie blinks. "That... I see. I don't think I would like that very much at all."

A crooked smile begins to quirk Kolya's lips. "No, I do not think you would." He agrees, sipping on a glass of dark mead. "You are soft."

Marjorie frowns, not altogether sure how to take that comment. She crosses her arms over her torso, hoping he wasn't talking about her body, which is admittedly on the chubbier side. "Soft?"

Kolya nods decisively, taking a much larger gulp of his mead. As soon as it empties, it refills itself again. "It is not bad thing," He assures her, "But it would be bad thing at Durmstrang."

"Ah, I see." Marjorie says, although she doesn't really. "Well, good thing I go here, then."

"Yes, good thing."

By the time dinner is finished and the tables cleared away to make room for a glittering dance floor, Kolya is well on his way to being quite tipsy. He leads her out to dance far more enthusiastically than she had expected, and doesn't seem to notice at all when she stands on his toes. He sweeps her around the room and past her classmates, until she's quite dizzy and clutching at him to keep on her feet.

The dancing isn't nearly as fun as when George had spun her in those ridiculous circles during Professor McGonagall's dance class, but Kolya seems to be enjoying himself at least. Eventually, he leads her off the dance floor, grinning as his chest heaves from exertion.

"I go get drinks, yes?" He says, pointing over his shoulder towards the refreshments.

"Oh, yes please." Marjorie smiles, quite out of breath. She watches as Kolya disappears into the crowd, and then finds a chair to sink down into. Her feet are quite sore from the dancing, although she hadn't been on her feet all that long, so she contents herself with watching other couples and groups of friends as they spin about the dance floor.

She cradles her face in her hands as she spots Neville waltzing with Ginny, and smiles a bit when she sees how incandescently happy he looks; Ginny seems to be having a grand time too, laughing in delight every time he spins her. She sees Victor Krum dancing very closely with Hermione, who looks incredibly beautiful in her new robes and fancy hairdo.

She's been sitting there for quite a while when the Weird Sisters are led onstage and begin to play, and everyone on the dancefloor begins to go wild. She hums along absently as she watches them all, smiling; Alicia and Lee Jordan are headbanging aggressively to a song that really isn't fast enough to headbang to, and Fred is giving Angelina a piggyback around the dancefloor while it looks like George is attempting to convince his Beauxbatons date to let him do the same.

Someone drops heavily into the seat beside her, and she startles. It's just Katie though, who scowls furiously out at the dancefloor as she sips on something that smells strongly of Firewhiskey.

"Hey." Marjorie says cautiously, "Enjoying yourself?"

Katie just sighs and points to the left corner of the dancefloor, where Kenneth Towler is snogging the face off of a dark-haired Ravenclaw. "Wanker." She says without heat, before turning to eye Marjorie curiously. "What're you doing here all on your own, eh? Where's your Durmstrang boy?"

"Er- gone to get us drinks." Marjorie says, choosing to leave out the fact that it must have been well over half an hour since Kolya had disappeared.

"Oh, that's nice of him." Katie says rather glumly.

Marjorie is still looking at Kenneth Towler, however. "Blimey, it looks like he's trying to swallow her whole."

Katie snorts on her Firewhiskey, then shrieks a little as it burns her nose. "It does, doesn't it." She giggles, eyeing the two speculatively. "Well, whatever. Maybe someone else will ask me to dance."

"I'm sure they will." Marjorie says earnestly; Katie looks incredible tonight, after all. "Er- won't you get in big trouble if you're caught with that?" She nods pointedly towards Katie's Firewhiskey, to which Katie responds with a wink.

"They won't catch me, darling. Want some?"

"Oh, no thank you!" Marjorie says hastily, the memories of her last night with Firewhiskey rising up. Katie laughs, before standing with a wink and beginning to drift back into the crowd.

Alone again, Marjorie sighs to herself and lets her gaze wander around the room. She spots Ron and Harry, looking as alone and glum as she feels herself. She's actually contemplating joining them when she finally spots Kolya emerging from the dancefloor, sweaty and grinning and carrying two goblets.

Marjorie sits up straighter, surprised by how relieved she feels to see him; she had just about resigned herself to being abandoned. Kolya crashes down into the chair next to her, spilling a little bit of butterbeer all over his sleeve, but he doesn't seem to notice at all.

"Drink for you." He slurs a little, pressing the second goblet into Marjorie's hand.

"Thank you very much." Marjorie accepts the drink with a smile, peering at him out of the sides of her eyes; it seems that wherever Katie had gotten her Firewhiskey from, Kolya had gotten some too in the time he'd been away. She takes a sip, and then promptly chokes on it; seems like Kolya has put some Firewhiskey  in it, too. "Oh! It's very, er, strong."

"Yes." Kolya chuckles, and then throws back his drink in one go. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then leans in very close to her. "You have nice eyes."

"Oh!" Marjorie says, surprised. She can feel her cheeks begin to darken, and looks down at her hands rather than Kolya. "Thank you. Er- you do too!"

He's very close to her now, and Marjorie is hyper-aware of the way his arm presses into hers. She wonders if he's going to kiss her. She doesn't know if she wants him to.

"You are like, how do you call them..." Kolya muses with a drunken frown, using his hands to denote something small, "Ah! A rat."

Marjorie's entire face falls in dismay. "A rat?" She repeats, hoping fervently that no one around them can hear this conversation.

Kolya nods, but then frowns a little and shakes his head. "Hm, no, that is not right. How do you call the other one? Littler, and fluffy?" His brow furrows even further, and it looks as though the fierce amount of thought he's putting into this is causing him physical pain, until he claps his hands and roars, "Ah! Mouse! Little mouse!"

Marjorie cringes, mortified, and looks around quickly to check if anyone is listening to them. Luckily, everyone seems to be entirely lost in their own worlds. "A mouse," she echoes, hoping she doesn't sound as crestfallen as she feels. "Well. Um. I see."

"Yes," Kolya's eyes are heavy-lidded with drink now, and he sways a little to the side as he reaches out to pinch one of Marjorie's cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. "Little and quiet and soft, with chubby cheeks." He trails off, jaw slack as he stares off into middle distance. "No... am I thinking squirrel?"

Marjorie just stares at him in mild disbelief. She doesn't know how to even begin reacting to this, and so she ends up fidgeting anxiously with her hands. "Squirrel." She breathes. She feels very, very stupid.

"It's good thing." Kolya is saying, apparently oblivious to her rapidly dropping mood. "You are very sweet, little mouse."

He throws his arm over her shoulder and draws her close, until he's leaning on her quite heavily. Marjorie just bites her lip and tries not to look upset; she feels ridiculous. She knew she shouldn't have come to the ball -- what had she been thinking?

Kolya leans very close to her, glancing down at her lips, and Marjorie feels her heart seize in her chest. Please don't, she thinks, trying to lean out of his grasp. But Kolya stops suddenly, his brow furrowing in a frown, before he says, "I need to piss."

Marjorie blinks, before relief crashes down on her hard. "Well! You should go and do that, then." She says quickly, extricating herself from under his arm as quickly and gracefully as possible. Without her supporting him he nearly topples to the ground, but manages to regain his balance just in time. He blinks, and then nods slowly and lumbers to his feet before setting off into the crowd.

Marjorie covers her face with her hands. She thinks she would quite like to go to bed now.

"Longbottom? You alright?"

Fred Weasley is standing in front of her, carrying two goblets of butterbeer and frowning concernedly at her. Marjorie straightens up immediately and forces a smile. "Of course! Yes. Just, um, resting, is all. Having a good night?"

Fred is still eyeing her a little suspiciously. "Yeah, pretty good. Just getting drinks." He holds up the two goblets and grins. When she doesn't grin back, he tilts his head and moves forward to sit down in Kolya's vacated seat. "Come on, what's up? Where's your date?"

Marjorie is about to tell him that Kolya went to the bathroom, but when she glances out at the dancefloor she spots a familiar head of wavy brown hair right at the centre of a crush of people. So much for having to piss. "Well, at least he's having fun." Marjorie says dryly, watching Kolya leap around drunkenly with his group of friends from Durmstrang, roaring and laughing in slurred Russian. Fred follows her gaze, and immediately makes a face when he spots him. Before he can make any comment or try to cheer her up or anything, Marjorie quickly says, "So, where are the others?"

"Dunno. Well, here comes Georgie." Fred gestures to the edge of the crowd where George has just emerged from, flushed and beaming. He looks somewhat rumpled, and his French date is hanging off his arm and laughing up at him. "Damn, looks like he's having a good time."

"Yeah, it does." Marjorie says absently, watching the couple. They look very happy indeed, but Marjorie can't quite work up the energy to envy them. She just feels a little melancholy.

George nods at something his date says and waves her off, before making a beeline straight for Fred and Marjorie. "Blimey, s'hot in here, isn't it?" He says once he reaches them, collapsing into the seat next to Marjorie.

"Suppose that depends on what you get up to on the dancefloor, Georgie." Fred says slyly, smirking at his brother over Marjorie's head.

George leans over and cuffs his twin over the head, laughing at the squawking sound he makes. Once they settle down again, his attention lands on Marjorie. "What's with the long face, Marjie? Not enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, the ball is lovely." says Marjorie hastily, looking away to avoid George's searching gaze. Unfortunately Fred is still on her other side, and the two of them are looking at her in such a discerning way that it feels as though she's been put under a magnifying glass.

"You seem a little upset."

"Not going to cry on us again, are you?"

George smacks his brother over the head for that remark and hisses something about being insensitive, but Marjorie isn't paying much attention. She fiddles with the skirt of her dress, then sighs and resigns herself to just telling them the truth; she doubts she'll get any peace from them until they get some sort of answer out of her, anyway. "Um... do I- would you say that I remind you a bit of a mouse?"

Fred looks as though he's trying to keep a laugh trapped behind his teeth. "A mouse?"

"Or- or a rat?"

The barely stifled smile slips right off of Fred's face. "A rat?"

"Who the hell said that?" George asks, leaning forward in an attempt to catch Marjorie's eye. "Not that Durmstrang bloke?"

"Do we have to sort someone out, Longbottom?" Fred asks, rolling up his sleeves in a jokingly threatening sort of way.

"No, no!" Marjorie says quickly, horrified at the thought. "He- well, I don't think he meant it in a bad way, or anything."

"How does someone call someone a rat in a good way?" George still sounds a little baffled.

"He was drunk." Marjorie explains a little weakly. "Besides, I suppose he's not completely wrong. I probably am a little... mouse-like?"

Fred makes a disparaging noise in the back of his throat. "Coming from the girl who set Cedric Diggory on fire? I refuse to hear it."

"That was an accident!" Marjorie finally meets his eyes, if only to scowl at him. "Why do you keep bringing that up!"

"There she is!" George laughs, clapping her on the back. "I don't think anyone could compare you to a mouse. You're far more rabbit-like, in my humble opinion."

"Oh, yes, I can see the resemblance." Fred says cheerfully, clearly finding the growing expression of indignation over Marjorie's face extremely funny. "Very swift-footed, you are, Longbottom. Remember how fast she ran from us that day in the corridor, Georgie? Like a Thestral, you were."

"So fast she practically blurred," George nudges Marjorie playfully, "Were we that scary?"

"No, I just thought-" Merlin, this was embarrassing. She had sincerely hoped they had forgotten about that. "I thought you were going to play some awful joke on me, or something-"

"Same way you shouted at us at dinner that day when you thought we were just joking about trying to be friends?" George asks innocently.

"Rabbit-like self-preservation instincts." Fred adds with a wise little nod.

"Oh, stop." Marjorie throws her hands up, but the twins have succeeded in what they had been attempting to do -- make her laugh. "Fine. I suppose that's marginally better than a mouse, at least."

"That's the spirit!" Fred ruffles her hair, paying no mind to the way several of Katie's carefully styled curls fall out of her updo. "You're jumpy and adorable and completely un-mouselike, Longbottom. Ignore that stupid wanker."

Marjorie exhales, and forces her shoulders to finally relax. "Thank you." She murmurs, and offers both of them a small but very genuine smile. They have no real reason to be so nice to her, but their attention and their kindness is only making that stupid little spark of a crush grow in her chest. "It really wasn't that big of a deal, though. It was a silly thing to get upset over." Fred makes a face that makes it very clear he's about to argue, but Marjorie keeps talking. "I think I might go to bed. It's been a long day."

It is late, and the ball is beginning to wind down a little; most of the couples who remain on the dancefloor have graduated to slow-dancing together, and some of the bolder couples have begun to disappear, giggling, to shadowy alcoves elsewhere in the castle. While there are still quite a number of guests present, enough have begun to retire that Marjorie doesn't look strange at all for hoping to leave a little early.

George glances around the room and clearly reaches the same conclusion as her. He gives a very false yawn and says, "Yeah, I'm pretty tired myself, actually. I'll walk you up."

"You don't have to do that." Marjorie stands and straightens her dress. "You've been very nice, sitting with me like this. You don't have to leave early just to make me feel better."

"Oh hush, Longbottom." Fred stands too and rolls his eyes. "When have we ever done anything we don't want to do?"

Her slight crush notwithstanding, Marjorie simply couldn't allow them to walk her back to Gryffindor tower; it was embarrassing enough that they had seen her upset and managed to get the truth out of her, she didn't need to add to that embarrassment by apparently being so pathetic that they felt the need to walk her right back to the common room. "What about your dates?"

Fred just laughs at her, and points to the dancefloor. "Angelina is dancing with Oliver Wood right now. Do you seriously think I'd interrupt that? I do value my life, you know." He then gave a very exaggerated look around the Hall. "And little Aline seems to have disappeared off with a Beauxbatons boy. Very tragic, but I'm sure George will get over it eventually."

It is true that Angelina looks to be having the time of her life as she dances pressed up against Oliver Wood, and it is also true that George's date hasn't been seen since they first came off the dancefloor. The ball is winding down, and they probably wouldn't miss all that much if they left now, but Marjorie can't help but feel very guilty. She really isn't even all that upset -- she probably will be later on, when she gets the chance to start properly over-analysing everything that was said, but for now she's just fine.

"Come on, Marjie, stop thinking so hard." George nudges her, then throws an arm around her shoulders. "Let's go, yeah?"

Marjorie relaxes into his touch, surprised at herself; she's not used to these kinds of casual touches, but she finds herself enjoying them a lot more than she would have expected. Maybe she's more touch-starved than she first realised, which is quite a mortifying revelation. She allows herself to be led from the Hall, though they all come to a stumbling halt in the Entrance Hall when they're nearly blinded by a sharp flash of light and a loud 'click'.

Marjorie blinks rapidly, trying to regain her sight, as she hears Fred exclaim "Merlin's saggy ballsack, Creevey!"

"Sorry!" Tiny Colin Creevey squeaks, peering at them from over the top of his camera. "I- I just thought that would make a nice photo-!"

George chuckles, his fingers dragging over the bare skin of Marjorie's back where the top of her dress ends. "You know, if I didn't know that I just always look good then I might be more upset about being surprise-attacked by a little man with a camera. Freddie's just feeling insecure because he always looks ugly in candid photos."

Fred shoots him a look. "If I look ugly then you look ugly, you prat."

Marjorie is altogether distracted by the feeling of George's touch against her bare back, but she manages to suppress a shiver long enough to smile at Colin and say, "I'm sure it's lovely, Colin. I'd love to see it, when you develop it."

"Yes, of course!" Colin says eagerly, colour appearing high in his cheeks, "I could take another one, if you'd like?"

They don't even get a chance to reply before Colin's camera goes off again; Marjorie actually thinks that the damn flash is going to be permanently burned into her retinas. The twins both swear very loudly indeed, and Marjorie reels slightly. "Right!" She forces out a smile, "Thanks for that, Colin!"

"You look very nice tonight." Colin says in a rush, as though he's trying to force the words out all at once, before darting away and disappearing into the hall.

George snickers a little, his hand slipping off Marjorie's back. "Well, there you go. Creevey certainly doesn't think you look rat-like."

"What are you talking about?" Fred interjects, winding his own arm around Marjorie's waist and urging them all into a walk again. "He was obviously talking to me."

As the twins dissolve into an argument about which one of them took Colin Creevey's breath away, Marjorie walks along between them and tries very hard not to trip over her own feet. Nothing could have prepared her for how tactile the twins were -- she had seen them with their own friends, of course, and she knows how easy it seems to be for them to throw their whole bodies over whoever they happen to be nearest as they chat about whatever crosses their bizarre little minds, but she had never actually expected that touchiness to be aimed at her. It is, in a word, overwhelming.

When they finally reach the portrait hole and stumble into the common room, it's not altogether surprising to find it completely empty. Marjorie breathes a sigh of relief and lets herself slump a little, delighted by the relative solitude. The twins make a beeline for the couches and throw themselves down, bouncing a little against the cushy seats. "Coming to sit, Longbottom?"

"Ah, no, I think I'll go to bed." Marjorie smiles a little awkwardly. "I do want to say thank you, though. Really. Um, thank you. I feel bad that you had to leave the ball early."

"Don't be silly, Marjie." Fred says dismissively, pulling a pack of Exploding Snap cards out from underneath a couch cushion and beginning to deal them. "You're acting like it was some sort of enormous sacrifice; it's no big deal to walk a friend from the ball back to the common room. Besides, most of the fun was over anyway."

"Are we?" Marjorie asks slowly, startled.

"Hm? Are we what?" George looks up from his cards with a grin, but then his smile seems to slip a little as he looks at her. "What, are we friends? Of course we're friends."

"Oh." Marjorie says. She sounds stupid, she knows she does, but she doesn't think she's ever had friends before. The twins are the last people she would ever have expected to declare friendship with her, but she feels a bubble of happiness expanding rapidly in her chest all the same. "Oh. Well. That's- okay. Um. That's great." The twins look at her as though she's gone round the twist or something, but she can't even bring herself to care. She just beams at them. "I'm very happy to be friends with you."

The twins look at each other, then back to Marjorie and slowly return her smile. "You are so-" Fred begins, but then cuts himself off with a shake of his head and starts over. "Yeah, back at you, Marjie."

"Go to bed, rabbit." George softens his words with a grin, "Don't bother your head thinking about that stupid Durmstrang tosser again."

Marjorie just nods and, still smiling, sets off up the stairs towards the dormitories.

The next morning at breakfast, Marjorie is greeted by the strangest sight.

At the Slytherin table, Kolya sits amongst his group of friends looking absolutely miserable. Marjorie had originally assumed that a hangover was the cause of his gloomy look. She had actually considered, for a few moments, going over and apologising for leaving early without telling him. She very much doubted that he had gone looking for her, or even spared another thought for her, but it would surely be the polite thing to do. She was actually preparing herself to stand and make her way over to him -- at least, that was until he sneezed rather violently, and an enormous amount of tiny black spiders sprayed from his nose and all over the Slytherin table.

Marjorie watches open-mouthed as a girl who was sat opposite Kolya screams and scrambles away as her breakfast is overtaken by a veritable swarm of tiny spiders. "What on earth...?" She breathes, straining along with everyone else in the Hall to get a better look.

"Bloody hell, who'd he piss off to get hexed like that?" Ron Weasley, who looks quite ill as he watches the spectacle, says in a carrying whisper to Harry.

No sooner has Ron spoken than Marjorie glances over to see the Weasley twins watching Kolya's distress with great amusement. Fred seems to feel her eyes on him, and looks over; when their gazes meet, he overs her a cheeky grin and toasts his glass of pumpkin juice in her direction.

Marjorie stares back at him speechless, before looking back to the Slytherin table. Kolya seems to be trying to wipe his nose with his robes, but the spiders are still falling out of his nostrils and now seem to be climbing into his sleeves.

Entirely unable to help herself, Marjorie ducks her head down and starts to laugh, breathy and quiet with disbelief.