040 | une, deux, trois

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THE BALLROOM DIDN'T TAKE LONG to fill with people, students streaming in as the clock ticked closer to eight. The open space slowly transformed into a sea of colourful, flowing gowns and smart dress robes, excited chatter and the occasional giddy shriek echoing around the room. Carly was over the moon to be there, and had dragged Albany full circle around the hall in her thorough examination of the decor. She was particularly enraptured by the desserts tables, which had a wide variety of tiny cakes, puddings and cookies — "Look at how small they are!"

Albany would smile and nod fondly as she let the shorter girl explore, though she herself spent more time searching the crowd curiously. It felt a little odd to see so many familiar faces all dressed up, and in such a fancy atmosphere. She barely recognised Viola in her lilac gown and heavy makeup until the girl waved enthusiastically at her; she was accompanied by Adrian Pucey, who wore a shy smile and a glittery golden suit. Phylis and Zoe were holding hands behind them, the latter giggling hysterically at something the former had said.

And then her gaze was pulled over to the entrance of the ballroom, where a very familiar ginger was descending the steps, his date in hand. Her face fell immediately, heart sinking painfully in her chest. Carly glanced to her worriedly, though she barely noticed, shoulders feeling much heavier than they had a moment ago.

Neither Faith nor George were smiling or speaking as they joined the crowd, though they didn't separate either, Faith grasping the boy's arm lightly. A black gown with silver lace hugged her narrow figure, and her neat dark hair was pulled up into an attractively messy bun, loose strands framing her pale face. George was wearing a suit that twinned with his brother's, differing only in a different shade of gold vest. His hair shone in the blue light of the ballroom, combed neatly through. Albany bit her cheek a little too hard, wondering if Faith had done it for him.

"Well, if it isn't the A-Team!" Fred called cheerfully, and Albany turned around to find that he, Lee, Angelina and Alicia had crept up on her.

"The A-Team?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow at the boy and trying to forget about George and Faith.

Lee grinned at her. "Allie, Angie, and Alicia!"

"And Carly!" the curly-haired girl chimed in happily, bringing the group to laugh.

"Can't forget curly Carly," Fred agreed, grinning. He glanced around the hall. "Anyone seen Ron? I need to make sure he didn't get a date so I can gloat."

"You're a horrible brother," Angelina laughed, elbowing him in the side.

"I'm the best brother!"

"Of five?" Albany scoffed. "Fat chance."

Fred pouted, folding his arms indignantly. "You turn a teddy bear into a spider one time and suddenly you're the worst sibling—"

"You did what?"

"George was part of it too!"

"Good evening, everyone," greeted a new voice, and Albany glanced curiously to its source. She recognised the face, though she'd never really spoken to the handsome Hufflepuff — Cedric Diggory.

"Diggory," Fred greeted the dark-haired boy coolly, as Angelina casually eyed Cedric up and down with a grin.

"Weasley," Cedric returned politely with a warm smile. "I don't suppose anyone here has seen Cho Chang?"

"Your date?" Alicia assumed, pouting as Cedric nodded. She sighed. "No, I don't think she's here yet."

"Ah," Cedric said with a nod. "Well, thanks anyway." He glanced to Albany, then, who felt suddenly shy under the boy's gaze. "Albany, right?"

"Yeah," she replied, a little too quickly. "Right. Bronwen."

Cedric smiled at her while she innerly cursed herself for sounding stupid.

"Congrats on your success with the first task," he said. "That stunt with the dragon was pretty impressive. I would've loved to be a champion, but I'm not sure I could've lived up to that."

He laughed lightly, and Albany shook her head. "I'm sure you would've," she assured him awkwardly.

Cedric shrugged. "Guess we'll never know. But good luck with the rest of the tournament, and with the dance tonight."

Albany nodded, trying to swallowing the rising dread at the reminder. "Yeah, thanks. Er, you too — I mean, with the dance, not the — um, you know what I mean."

He grinned. "I know what you mean. Well then, I'd better go find my date." He waved politely to the group as he turned and left, Alicia and Angelina sighing in his wake.

"I don't get it," Fred remarked dryly. "Why everyone loves him."

"'Course you don't get it, hon, you're ginger," Alicia retorted, elbowing him playfully between the ribs.

Fred winced at the overenthusiastic blow, holding a hand to his side. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing, Freds, you're beautiful," Angelina assured the boy, in the same manner one would console an upset child. She laced her fingers between his, then, with one hand, and kissed him on the cheek. "I think the dance will be starting soon."

Albany was gaping at the pair, suddenly troubled with a loss for words. "Wait — you're not — are you—?"

"Together?" Angelina finished, smiling at the girl. "Well, Fred asked me out a little while ago—"

"A little while ago?!" Albany echoed, turning a fearsome glare on the redhead. "You didn't tell me?!"

Fred's ears had turned bright red. "I thought you were maybe too busy — didn't want to distract you—"

"Distract me?! Fred Weasley, I am your best friend — who else knew?!"

Nobody else seemed incredibly surprised by this new information; Lee was staring with wide eyes at his shoes, and Alicia busied herself with fixing her hair. Albany gaped.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me—"

"You're not mad, are you?" Fred asked, almost nervously.

"No!" Albany shouted, in a tone that suggested otherwise. "I am very, very happy for you both!"

"Miss Bronwen?" called Professor McGonagall, hurrying over in traditional dress robes of her own. "The dance will be starting, if you and your date will follow me...."

Fred was spared further raging from the dark-haired girl as her face fell drastically at the announcement. Carly, on the other hand, seemed to have been given another energy boost, and quite literally jumped at the opportunity to open the dance, bouncing after McGonagall like a bunny on steroids.

Albany felt the butterflies stirring uncomfortably in her insides as she followed the Transfiguration professor back to the entrance of the hall. A pathway had been cleared, splitting the buzzing crowd like Moses to the Red Sea, and the other champions had lined up at one end of it. Fleur Delacour, her glittering gown no match for her dazzling smile, stood beside Albany's former Potions partner, Roger Davies. More surprising was that Harry's bushy-haired Muggleborn friend stood happily next to Viktor Krum; she was nearly unrecognisable with her hair sleek and makeup and ball gown on, though Carly gave the girl an enthusiastic wave as she and Albany moved into place beside her.

"Where's Mr Potter?" McGonagall was asking, expression stern, but her next words were interrupted by a bout of laughter across the room.

Harry was dashing down the steps in an emerald green suit, hair no less messy than usual (though it seemed an attempt had been made). Being dragged along by the arm behind him was a red-faced Ron Weasley, in the most hideous frilly orange costume Albany had ever seen. She had to stifle her own giggles at the antics of the two.

"Not a moment too soon, Potter," McGonagall remarked, raising an eyebrow at the boy.

Harry was slightly out of breath as he fell into place beside Albany, though that didn't completely hide the humorous grin on his face. "Sorry Professor, Ron was trying to jinx the lace off his robes."

McGonagall's lips pursed to conceal her own smile, while Ron seemed torn between wanting to murder everyone in the hall and wanting to die.

"Very well, Mr Potter, at least you're here now," said McGonagall, stepping aside. Albany swallowed as she glanced up the hall; it was an awful long way to dance in front of the whole school. "Mr Filch, if you will?"

The music began to play. Albany's heart did a flip as the other champions began to move, Harry and Ron strutting a little aggressively in contrast to the grace of Fleur and Krum and their partners. Carly picked up Albany's hand in her own, then, and brought the other to her waist; the gentle sway was oddly relaxing despite the countless stares she felt on her. And watching the shorter girl smile so brightly in front of her... the burn of the stares began to fade away.

She was sure her feet were all over the place, and her form was probably incorrect, and she certainly moved far more stiffly than any of the other dancers, but she didn't care anymore. Carly's joyous grin was all the assurance she needed, and she felt her own smile grow as the girl began to guide her into a more fluid rhythm, counting aloud ("Une, deux, trois; une, deux, trois....").

So maybe she didn't hate the ball so much after all.

Albany barely took notice as the rest of the school began to join them, hundreds of students pairing up to sway and waltz to the soft tune. It wasn't until Alicia Spinnet playfully elbowed her as she and Lee danced past them that she realised the crowd had thickened around the champions once again. Phylis and Zoe were beaming at each other, the former's head on the latter's shoulder (Albany felt a little guilty for not knowing her roommates better — were they a thing? Had they always shown affection so publicly?). Fred and Angelina weren't far, either; the two looked smitten with each other, and Albany had to bite back a pang of jealousy at their relationship.

The envy only grew as she spotted Fred's doppelganger at the back of the hall. She swallowed a flare of anger, staring at where Faith was leading the blank-faced redhead in a stiff and emotionless waltz. Her heart physically ached to see George caught in such a trance; it felt alien, watching him move as though he were a puppet on strings, ever-present grin wiped clean from his freckled face. It was wrong in a thousand ways.

"I guess she sort of hates me now?"

"That makes her even more of a suspect, right?"

Fred's words rang in her head, and her expression deepened, accompanying the sensation that her ribcage was caving in.

This is my fault.

Faith wouldn't have attacked George for no reason. If she was simply testing out her abilities with old magic, she had an entire castle to pick from; but no. She'd walked up to George Weasley, while he was with his brother, and asked him to the ball.

"I told her no."

"You left me, and now I have nothing. Nobody wants to talk to me — not my friends, not Graham — but everybody loves you!"

Faith wouldn't ask George to the ball for no reason. Even if she'd been out of options, she'd expressed her dislike for Gryffindors, for the Weasley twins — there was no good reason she would have brought one to the ball.

Not unless it was revenge.

Carly squeaked as Albany accidentally stepped on the girl with the point of her heel.

"Shit — I'm sorry—" Albany apologised hastily, face falling.

Carly shook her head, frowning up at her partner with concern. "You are troubled," she murmured, as they continued to sway to the music. "It's George, right?"

Albany bit her cheek, gaze dropping to the floor. "I have to help him," she whispered. This is my fault. He doesn't deserve this, and here I am, dancing.

Carly nodded, bringing Albany's chin up to meet her gaze once more. "I know," she agreed, to her surprise. "What can I do to help?"

Albany bit back the "nothing" rising on her tongue, glancing to where George was dancing with his partner. Her eyes narrowed.

"I need a distraction."

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❃ a/n:

i am literally dead at the fact that i could turn this book into an oc x oc and nobody would complain y'all the comments are killing me lmaooo

lowkey i do ship carly and albany tho ngl

but this is a george fic and big things are about to go down ;)

also happy 100,000 words!!!! that's literally insane what the hell and everyone who's read all of that — thank you so so so much omg

- A x

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