The next morning, Marjorie wakes with an uncomfortably dry mouth and a pounding headache. She thinks that she would be quite content to lay there for the rest of her life, but the sun is streaming through the curtain directly into her face and her stomach is grumbling quite unhappily. Once she sits up she has to remain very carefully still with her eyes scrunched shut, trying to work out if she's going to be sick or not.

As soon as she decides that she's probably going to be fine, she opens her eyes and squints around the dorm. Angelina is still asleep, though her upper half hangs almost entirely off the bed onto the floor. Katie is also sleeping, with her mouth wide open and what looks like the beginning of a nasty black eye beginning to bruise her left cheek. Alicia doesn't appear to be in the room at all.

Marjorie clambers out of bed and begins to get dressed, though it seems to take twice as long as usual. The girls still show no sign of stirring by the time she's fully dressed, so she slips out of the dormitories and down to breakfast by herself. It's a Saturday, so the castle is quiet just about everywhere but the Great Hall, which is packed to the brim with students (both from Hogwarts and foreign) who are all quite cheerfully stuffing their faces with food.

It's a bit of a relief to see all the exhausted and rather haggard faces at Gryffindor table, as Marjorie can at least assure herself that she's not the only one feeling distinctly miserable after too much Firewhiskey. In fact, judging by how some people look, she thinks she's actually gotten off quite lightly with her own hangover. Upon closer inspection, she can see that the rumpled appearances are mirrored at the Hufflepuff table -- clearly, they had been just as eager to celebrate their champion as Gryffindor had been.

Marjorie spots her cousin sitting on his own, and makes a beeline straight for him. It's like Neville senses her approaching him, because he doesn't even look up as he says "Morning, Maggie" and holds out a cup of tea for her, made exactly how she likes it.

"Oh, thank you, Nev!" Marjorie murmurs gratefully, taking a generous gulp and then cradling the hot cup in her hands. "Good night?"

"Oh yeah, pretty good." Neville says casually, peering at an article about proper cauldron care in Witch Weekly as he picks at his breakfast. "Not as good as yours though, I'd reckon."

Marjorie pauses in the process of loading her breakfast plate up with hash browns. "What's that mean?"

Neville finally looks up at her, and he's visibly trying hard not to laugh. "I saw you drinking Firewhiskey, Maggie! And wobbling all around the common room!"

"Everyone was drinking Firewhiskey!" Marjorie defends herself immediately, and then glances around her in a panic in case McGonagall just happened to be walking by. "And I wasn't wobbling!"

Neville just giggles and turns back to his magazine. "I'm just saying, I've never seen you like that before. Imagine what Gran would say." The two of them give identical exaggerated shivers of horror, and then laugh at each other.

"Neville Longbottom, when I catch you drunk on Firewhiskey I will never let it go."

"'When', not if?" Neville laughs, sipping at his pumpkin juice.

"No, I know I'll catch you out."

Neville just grins, flipping a page in Witch Weekly. "I'm not making fun of you, you know, I'm just glad you enjoyed yourself. You looked happy."

"Yeah, well." Marjorie sips at her tea and smiles. "I had a nice time."

"I think Seamus must have been drunker than I first thought." Neville murmurs with another little laugh. "He was swearing up and down that he saw you leave with one of the Weasley twins!"

Marjorie chokes on her tea, and then tries to cover it up by pretending to sneeze violently. "Oh, excuse me!" She flusters, fidgeting with her napkin. She hadn't forgotten her impromptu little trip to the kitchens, though she had been trying very hard not to think about it because the thoughts of how embarrassing her drunken behaviour must have been was just a little too hard to handle. "Oh, er-"

"I told him that you would never do that, of course." Neville says matter-of-factly, mopping up some of the tea that Marjorie had spilled on her own blouse. "Especially since she's made such a big deal of avoiding them her entire time in school, and that even if she had, by chance, made friends with them, she would surely have told he favourite cousin in the whole world-"

"Oh, Neville, stop that!" Marjorie can't help but laugh. "I wouldn't say that I'm friends with them, but, well, they're- well, they're alright, I suppose, aren't they?"

Neville just sips at his tea and peers at her over the rim of his cup.

"Stop looking at me like that, nothing happened!" Marjorie whispered, turning red under his gaze.

It's now Neville's turn to choke on his tea, pounding at his chest swiftly in an attempt to get himself under control. "What? I wasn't suggesting something happened- What would have happened-?!"

"Nothing!" Marjorie whisper-shouts, panicked at the direction the conversation has taken. "Merlin, nothing at all-!"

"Did- did they try something-?"

"No!"

"Merlin's pants, I didn't even know you saw them like that-"

"I don't-!"

"Morning!" Ron Weasley greets them cheerfully as he sinks down onto the bench next to Marjorie, closely followed by Harry and Hermione. "Could you pass the beans, Neville?"

"Morning!" Marjorie says, her voice so high that it's practically a screech.

Ron just blinks at her, suprised, though his attention is quickly drawn away as Neville hands over the container of beans. "Everyone had a good night, then?"

Neville is still staring wide-eyed at her, so it's all Marjorie can do to force a smile and a rather strained "Oh, yes!". Ron seems entirely oblivious to the tension, and turns back to engage Harry in conversation.

"Let's not mention this again." Marjorie mumbles quietly, her cheeks still flushed hot from embarrassment.

"Yeah." Neville throws back the last of his tea like a shot, sounding distinctly strained. "Right."

In the days that follow Harry's victory in the First Task, it seems that all anyone can talk about is the upcoming Yule Ball. Marjorie forces a smile and nods along whenever it comes up in conversation, but even the thought of it makes her feel sick with nerves. No one has ever shown the slightest bit of interest in her in all her years at Hogwarts, and she really can't imagine that changing in time for the Yule Ball.

"If Lee doesn't ask me soon, I'm going to break into his dorm and put Flobberworms in his underwear drawer." Alicia says sulkily, scowling across the classroom at Lee Jordan, who's chatting away with a group of friends and doesn't notice her attempts at telepathic coercion.

Angelina snickers, and then buries her head in her schoolbag to try and hide her laughter. "He'll get round to it, I'm sure. He's probably just shy."

"Shy?" Alicia repeats, voice dripping with derision. "When have you ever known Lee Jordan to be shy?"

She's got a point there, though Marjorie doesn't say so. She's also looking at the group of boys across the room, gaze drawn to Fred and George Weasley. They're snickering, taking it in turns to point their wands at Ron and causing his robes to elongate by several inches each time. By the time Ron finally goes to take a step away, he trips over his overlarge robes and fall flat on his face, causing his brothers and all the boys standing nearby to howl with laughter.

Marjorie hates to admit it, even to herself, but ever since that night in the kitchens she was looking at the twins... a little differently. The first big change was that she was actually looking their way at all; in all her previous years, the only time she had ever looked at them was to make sure that she was a sufficient distance away from them. The second change was that she was noticing things about them, stupid little things. She noticed the way their stupid long hair fell into their eyes, and how Fred would try to blow his out of the way instead of just brushing it aside with his hand, she noticed how George would reach out and clutch whoever was closest to him whenever he laughed too hard as though he needed the support just to stay upright -- it was usually Fred that he grabbed, and Fred would allow him to hang on before dumping him on the ground right when he was least expecting it -- somehow this would always take George by surprise. She didn't know what was wrong with her, but she knew she was embarrassed by it -- surely it was creepy, to be watching and noticing things like this.

"Right," McGonagall calls from the front of the class. She had called a rather impromptu meeting of sorts for all Gryffindor students from fourth year up to discuss the upcoming Yule Ball, and judging by the stern expression on her face she's taking the whole thing dead seriously. With a swift flick of her wand she sets Ron's robes right and gives the twins a sharp look before continuing on. "As I'm sure you all know, the Yule Ball has been a tradition of the-" She casts a rather impatient look back at Filch, who's fiddling noisily with an enormous and ancient-looking Muggle music contraption, and conspicuously raises her voice to be heard over the static, "Of the Triwizard Tournament since it's inception. On Christmas Eve night, both the students of Hogwarts and our guests shall gather in the Great Hall for an evening of well-mannered frivolity."

The twins grin as McGonagall casts a pointed look at them, and Fred adopts an innocent 'who, me?' sort of a look. McGonagall scowls a little, but keeps going nonetheless. "As representatives of both the school and of Gryffindor House, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward -- and I do mean that literally as the Yule Ball is, first and foremost, a dance."

As the students begin to react to that statement, Marjorie meets Neville's eye from across the room; he looks as nervous as she feels, but there's also a distinctive glimmer of excitement in his eyes. From behind her, she hears Katie's panicked exclamation of "But I can't dance! Can you dance? Can you dance?"

"Silence!" McGonagall calls, prepared to launch into lecture mode yet again, but this time Marjorie isn't listening. She was already dreading the thought of the Yule Ball because of the whole date thing, but now she hears that she has to dance? She doesn't think it could get any worse.

She only begins paying attention once again when she hears McGonagall's sharp "Mr Weasley! Will you join me, please?", and looks up to see Ron looking absolutely horrified as he's pulled to his feet. To Marjorie's left, Hermione begins to snicker. "Now: put your right hand on my waist."

"Where?" Ron whispers, aghast, looking as though McGonagall has asked him to do something unspeakable.

"My waist." McGonagall repeats with poorly concealed impatience, and pulls his arms into place. "Now, if you extend your arm-"

A wolf whistle cuts through the room, along with muffled snickers; while Ron looks distinctly as though he'd love nothing more than to lay into his brothers, Fred and George are watching McGonagall lead Ron through a waltz as though all their Christmases have come at once.

"Everybody on their feet, come along!"

Marjorie looks desperately around for an excuse to stay seated, even as all the other girls stand and move into the centre of the room. The boys look as reluctant as she does, although to her immense surprise it's Neville who stands first and leads the way to the middle of the room. Suddenly struck by panic at the thought of being the last person left without a partner, Marjorie bolts to her feet and tries to make a beeline for Neville -- as sad as it might be to partner with her cousin, Marjorie is certain it's not as sad as being left to learn to dance by herself.

She's too late, however -- she's barely gotten halfway to Neville before another girl has taken his arm with a self-conscious smile, and then she has to halt in the middle of the room and glance around, panicked. People are partnering up at a rapid pace, obviously having the same thought as Marjorie about being left partnerless; she sees Alicia practically adhere herself to Lee's side, who looks surprised but very pleased to see her.

"Shit." Marjorie breathes, glancing about again. Several boys glance her way and then look swiftly away, and she has to force herself not to get upset by it.

"Ready to dance, Marjie?" George announces his presence behind her by draping a casual arm on her shoulder and leaning on it -- it's all for show though, as he's careful not to actually put any weight on her. He's so much taller, he'd likely crush her.

Marjorie blinks at him. "With you?"

"Unless you had someone else lined up?"

"No, no!" Marjorie says quickly, "No, that's fine."

George bites his lip to try and stop himself from grinning, and fails completely. "Well, come on, then."

Bewildered but undeniably pleased with this turn of events, Marjorie follows his lead in getting into position. As soon as his hand lands on her waist, she feels her face erupt into flames and has to swiftly look away to avoid meeting his eyes -- as she looks around the classroom, however, her gaze lands on Neville, who's looking at George with a suspicious frown.

"It's times like these I'm glad to be in Gryffindor, eh?" George says conversationally as he takes her right hand and places it on his shoulder, interlocking their left hands and extending them out.

"Hm?" Marjorie asks, distracted.

"Well, at least we have McGonagall," George nods towards their professor, who is loudly instructing Seamus and Sophie Roper, "Imagine being in Slytherin and getting stuck with Snape as a dance instructor."

Marjorie's face blanches at the thought, and George bursts out laughing at her expression. "I think I'd rather die." Marjorie says seriously, "Some things really are worse than death."

George only laughs harder, as though she had just told an outrageously funny joke. Some of their classmates are beginning to crane their necks to look around at them, trying to see what's so funny, and Marjorie is just beginning to get self-conscious when McGonagall restarts the music. Taking that as his cue, George promptly whisks Marjorie into a quick two-step waltz. Neither of them know the steps however, so it turns into George simply spinning Marjorie in circles as she tries very hard not to stand on his toes.

They spin passed Fred and Angelina, who are doing a much better (and slower) job at nailing the dance steps, and again past Ron fumbling his way through the steps with Hermione, who keeps wincing every time he stands on her toes. Harry is still sat at the edge of the class with his arm still in a sling from his encounter with the Hungarian Horntail, grinning wildly as he watches the chaos unfold.

"Longbottom, I think we're naturals at this." George announces proudly. Marjorie trips up on her own feet, but George is pulling them along so quickly that she doesn't even fall. Despite herself, Marjorie starts to laugh. She's sure she looks like a total idiot, stumbling after George's ridiculously long legs, but she's having so much fun that she hardly has time to feel self-conscious.

"Why are your legs so long?" Marjorie gasps, grinning wildly. Her own head just about reaches the top of his shoulder, and she has to put a lot of effort into keeping up with him.

"What, are you jealous?" George begins to take increasingly large steps, until he's virtually dragging Marjorie along behind him. "Can't blame you -- Long, luscious legs like these are pretty rare, you know."

"Mr Weasley, slow down!" Mc Gonagall shouts from behind them, before George whisks Marjorie away again.

"Yeah, take it easy, Ron!" George yells as they spin passed Ron and Hermione, who are moving at a very cautious and sedate pace.

"Mr Weasley!" McGonagall shouts again, attempting to hurry after them.

"George-" Marjorie starts to say, but then George spins her again and she starts laughing, "George, wait-"

"Ever been chased by McGonagall before?" George asks, guiding them expertly through their dancing classmates, "She can be surprisingly spry, when she wants to be."

"Weasley!"

George starts laughing, and it only takes one glance over Marjorie's shoulder to see why -- Professor McGonagall has started to chase after them in earnest, her robes flapping and a fierce scowl on her face. "Oh, Merlin." She says, eyes wide. "We're going to be in trouble!"

"What's a little trouble in exchange for having a laugh, eh?"

Marjorie grins, but her head is starting to spin a little. "George, I'm dizzy."

"Seems to be a running theme with you, Marjie." George snickers. He twirls her dramatically one last time before drifting to a halt. The two of them are breathing heavily and grinning; Marjorie has to hold onto his robes for extra balance as she works to regain her bearings.

In the moment that they've been standing still, McGonagall catches up to them. Her nostrils flare as she glares at George. "Mr Weasley!" She hisses, "Did you not hear a word  said earlier?"

"I sure did, Professor." George blinks innocently at her, his chest still heaving from exertion. Marjorie's eyes follow the movement, distracted by the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he catches his breath. "Babbling, bumbling band of baboons, right?"

McGonagall looks for a moment as though she would dearly love to shove him out a window. "If you try something like that at the Yule Ball, Mr Weasley, I will make you dearly regret it." She says, voice low. Marjorie looks between the two of them with wide-eyes (having never been in trouble with Professor McGonagall before, she's met  with the sudden realisation that she never, ever wants to be), and when McGonagall turns to her she jumps. "Do you need to sit down, Longbottom?"

"Er- I'm alright, Professor." Marjorie says hastily, avoiding McGonagall's eyes.

"Right then." McGonagall straightens and narrows her eyes at George once more. "Behave." She says, then promptly sweeps away.

George watches her go, then shakes his head somewhat fondly. "Blimey, she really reminds me of my mum sometimes."

Marjorie laughs, still a bit breathless. "I think I will sit down, actually." She decides, wobbling a little as she makes a beeline over to the chairs.

To her surprise, George follows. "Think I'd quite like to watch this disaster unfold from over here myself." He tells her when he sees her looking at him, and plops down in a chair beside her. As Marjorie's heart rate slows down again she starts to become more aware of her proximity to George, and begins to get a little self-conscious again.

The two of them look out across the room in companionable silence; Marjorie finds herself reluctantly impressed by how nice George is being to her. There aren't many people in Hogwarts who make an effort to be nice to either her or her cousin, so basic kindness tends to stand out to her.

"Neville looks like he's enjoying himself." George points out all of a sudden, nudging her and pointing in Neville's direction. He's right; Neville is standing tall and practicing the steps of the dance very carefully with his partner, taking great care to avoid trodding on her toes. He looks more relaxed than Marjorie has seen him in a long time, and she can feel her face soften as she looks at him.

"Oh, he does, doesn't he?" She says quietly, watching him move cautiously with his dance partner. "That's very sweet."

George glances at her swiftly before turning his gaze back to the dancers. "Looks like Kenneth Towler is fairly determined to break Katie's toes -- do you see how much he's stepping on her?"

Marjorie follows his gaze and giggles a little when she catches sight of Katie, who looks as though she's about to kick Kenneth very hard in a very vulnerable place if he trods on her toes one more time. She allows her own gaze to rove around, and then says, "I think Filch would like to join in."

George's head snaps around as he tries to see what she's looking at, then he starts snorting as he catches sight of the school caretaker -- Filch is nursing Mrs Norris in his arms as he sways back and forth in time with the music. His eyes are closed, apparently blissfully oblivious to his surroundings.

"Dancing all alone, what a shame," George nudges at her side again, "Why don't you go dance with him, Marjie?"

"He's not alone, he's got Mrs Norris!" Marjorie laughs, shoving his arm. "He looks plenty happy to me!"

George grins at her, then turns back to survey the room once more. Marjorie looks away too, though her face is hot and she's sure she's flushed; George's smile is rather disarming from up close, when she can see the way his freckles spray across his nose and how the skin around his eyes crinkle up when he smiles. He has dimples, for Merlin's sake.

When McGonagall finally calls a halt to the dancing, a majority of the students make a beeline straight off the floor, looking a little traumatised. Marjorie begins to shift herself, gathering up her schoolbag and preparing to leave when Fred appears right over George's shoulder.

"That was some impressive dancing, Marjie," He says with a smirk, glancing over at McGonagall, "That woman is capable of some impressive speed when she wants to, isn't she?"

"Like a young spring chicken, is our Minerva." George nods earnestly.

Marjorie laughs a little nervously and glances McGonagall's way, paranoid of being overheard by her. "Yes, well, I think George could probably outrun a Nogtail if he wanted to."

George throws his head back and laughs, clearly delighted with this assessment even as Fred rolls his eyes. "Don't go saying that, Longbottom, he'll get a big head." Fred says, shoving his twin's head.

"Jealousy is a disease, Freddie." George pushes him back, still chuckling, "She likes my long, sexy legs too! Don't you, Longbottom?"

Marjorie flushes hard, mortified. "I-I never said that!"

Fred starts to laugh too, and now the both of them are laughing as the colour rises in her face. "No need to be embarrassed, Marjie." says Fred, "We do have a fantastic set of legs."

"Right!" Marjorie squeaks out, hauling her bag over her shoulder, "I'm leaving!"

The twins howl with laughter as she walks away from them, flustered. Marjorie exhales slowly to calm herself as she leaves the classroom, ignoring the laughter echoing behind her. She knows her little crush is stupid, and she can only hope that she manages to get over it before she embarrasses herself.

A/N:

Hello! So I want to say an enormous thank you to everyone who's left such wonderful comments and voted on the story so far, it's so encouraging and lovely to see that people are enjoying it!

I am still trying to decide on a pairing (i'm literally so indecisive, bc i'm a massive sl*t  for BOTH of them) so i'm sorry for asking again but i would very much value your opinion in this!:

Fred >>>

George >>>

Both >>>

As always, I very much love to hear from you guys. If you have any suggestions or ideas or anything you'd quite like to see, please don't be afraid to let me know!