| Current mood: | cynical |
Dance...
The dance.
Ugh.
Why do they have to do this to me? I'm a stupid prat, a failure with girls. Can anyone remember when I took Padma Patil to the Yule Ball? She wouldn't speak to me. Maybe that's because I was goggling at how hot Hermione looked, but still. Wait, there! See, I'm a failure. Whatever, I make no sense. This dance is making me lose my marbles. By the day before the dance I'll have all my fingernails chewed off and scratch marks on every inch of my body. Well, I can't have scratch marks if I have no fingernails. EVERYONE KNOWS WHAT I MEAN!!!!!
Who should I ask? Who CAN I ask? Of course Cho will already have a date. Not that I would ask her anyways! She'd never go with me. She's probably already with Marcks or something. Ginny and Seamus are no doubt going together, and I'm sure Harry will work up the nerve to ask Mystery Raveclaw Girl. I'd ask Hermione, but she'll probably go with Wood, since he'll be there. Poor old Ron, left out again. His mates get all the girls. I guess I could ask some fourth or fifth year. I'm not the handsomest bloke, but maybe because I'm a sixth year they'll go with me. Who else is there in my year? Hannah Abbott-- no, she's head over heels with Ernie Macmillan. There's Cho's friend Marietta-- the stupid one that blabbed to Umbridge about the D.A. last year. No, I could never take a traitor to a dance. Don't even say Luna! No, not Luna. Too loony. Excuse the pun. But it's true!
I need help.... and I'm late for Charms.
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