SMILE » n. longbottom

xiii

"THE YULE BALL, PART TWO"

"Do you want to dance?" The Slytherin held out his hand to the Hufflepuff, whom sat on the stool nearby the closest circular table.

Alana Wallace's eyes hung onto the stone floor of the Great Hall, unblinkingly. She whispered a faint, "No."

But Draco Malfoy did not notice the Wallace daughter's discomfort. He scoffed at Alana's faint answer, and quickly fixed how his suit was arranged, "No one will laugh at you, Wallace."

"Malfoy, leave to your minions," The short-tempered girl shot out, until she looked up and saw Draco's hurt expression. Alana felt guilty, and quickly turned her attention back towards the cold stone floor.

It took quite a while for the Slytherin to either reply or shoot back a reaction, he seemed to have his sass that he was previously known for, "I didn't want to dance with you in the first place, Wallace." He paused, and spoke in a soft, serious manner, "In fact, I don't think anyone will ever want to dance with you anymore. Farewell, Wallace."

The footsteps of the boy became fainter and fainter as he walked away and the music coming from The Weird Sister's instruments began to unnoticeably become louder, as the thoughts in Alana Wallace's skull grew to an irritating hum of annoyance:

"He's dancing with Ginny, Alana, can't you see? He doesn't fancy you, why would he? Hermione was trying to ease your pain, Neville Longbottom doesn't fancy you at all. If he did, he would have asked you to be his date."

Tears streaked down the Hufflepuff witch's cheeks as she came to the realization that he whom she had came to cherish and adore did not relate to her in that matter. Alana Wallace decided that the night was currently enough for her, she dismissed herself from the doors of the Great Hall and stumbled into a person.

This person was Professor McGonagall, who was talking to a wandering second year. The professor turned around astonished, and saw the glistening tears, "Oh dear. Do you need to be escorted to the Hospital Wing?"

"No, th-ank you, Professor. I am not hurt," the witch tried to stop the hot tears from falling, but it was useless: she could not stop the tears, therefore, she was hurt as the older witch suggested.

The professor was unimpressed by the Hufflepuff, and shook her head furiously in doubt, "It seems to me that you are hurt. If you will, I wish for you to join me in my office, Ms. Wallace." The woman stopped the shakes of her head, and gently patted Alana Wallace's shoulder assuringly.

"I'll be well without such formalities, Professor," the witch gave an assertive reaction towards McGonagall's suggestion, but the strict woman gave off a motherly vibe. And a mother is what Alana Wallace needed at the moment. But she dared not to cause a scene incase of stray eyes wondered from the Great Hall.

She wondered back to the Hufflepuff common room and changed back into her house robe, a more considerably wanted dressing sort than the dress that she had previously worn earlier.

No one was in the girls' dormitories, and Alana would not let her thoughts get the best of her. The witch strayed out of the common room from the kitchens, and found her way at Professor McGonagall's office door. She called out in an awkward manner as she tapped at the door, ready for Mrs. McGonagall's approval to enter, "Professor, may I come in?"

It took a while for Professor McGonagall to answer, as Alana had begun to worry. But finally the woman opened the door, and invited the Hufflepuff student inside of her office, "Ms. Wallace, pardon my tardiness. I was readying my room for the end of today."

"Oh," Alana became guilty, "I can go, you must be tired already, Professor."

"No, as Deputy Headmistress, I've learned to never become tired," The witch walked the student into her office and set her to the fiery fireplace, enclosed with surrounding intricate couches. Mrs. McGonagall came back not so late with a full tea set. "It is you, whom I should be worried about, dear. The transportation from the kitchens to this office is rather ... ghastly, for a fact. And besides, Ms. Wallace, you gave me a frighten earlier. Tell me, not from a deputy headmistress to a student, but in truth, ... what seems to be troubling you?"

"In truth, ... I do not know what is happening at the moment," she carefully poured the tea out into a small cups that Proffessor McGonagall had arranged for Alana and herself. "The Yule Ball — I suppose — brings along as much as drama, as it does bring along joy. The situations that reveal itself are as complicated and unknown as a foreign language, and in truth it leaves my thoughts and emotions to the equivalent of multiple, complex individuals. Does that make any sense, Professor?"

"Anything can be understandable, as long as both sides of a conversation can agree on something. So, Ms. Wallace, yes it makes perfect sense," Minerva McGonagall dropped a sugar cube and honey into her own, then she asked Alana for her option in tea, "How many sugars? Any honey?"

"Um, yes please. Two, and a decent amount of honey," Alana nodded thankfully, and paused to wonder. "I am thankful for this, Professor McGonagall, for the tea. I haven't had even eaten the catering in the Great Hall, nevertheless even seen it."

"It is no problem, dear. The foods are poorly inquired, it's the experience that effects the proclaimed quality of the catering. Enjoy this, at least, Ms. Wallace," The older witch nodded assuringly and drank her sweetened tea. As Alana drank the tea, and stared at the crackling embers beneath the fire of the fireplace. McGonagall spoke, "A light is a light no matter how bright. For a light can be seen at any night, as long as one has sight."

"Do you know who wrote that?" Alana's expression became interested as the professor spoke the literacy of a poet.

"Of course I do, I just said it, moments before this precise second," The witch set her tea down and she, too, began to see the beauty within crackling embers, "Ms. Wallace, I know your situation faintly, I've seen girls storm out of the Great Hall's doors with the expressions and emotions that you have. Just hear me out, this is not simple advice, this is coming from personal experience. Individuals have different sights of events, and sometimes even I cause occurrences  that I am incapable of knowing why, or at least how I caused such things. Life will go on, even though it may seem as though it will not. Keep that in mind, dear."

Alana nodded at Professor Minerva McGonagall's wise words, and stood up, "Thank you for the tea, and for the conversation as well, ... it has been the most clearest conversation that I've ever been incapable of knowing. I'll be leaving now, Professor, goodbye."

"Oh, such at an early notice," The Deputy Headmistress nodded and began to clear up the messed tea set, "Come by anytime, conversations are inevitable. I wish you safe travels back to the kitchens, Ms. Wallace."

"Thank you, Professor," The Hufflepuff nodded a little, and headed out of the older witch's office and back towards her homely Hufflepuff dormitory.