Nobody ever asked my birthday

Your Dance

Harry had gotten a lot out of Defense Club yesterday. He'd even taken notes about halfway through (unfortunately, Hermione hadn't, or he'd have just borrowed hers). He hadn't realized until he was due at the Room of Requirement, just how much of his choices this year focused on DADA and the War. Not that he minded the focus. But he'd wanted to study, to try out - with some grass and hay - some of the cutting techniques...

No rest for the wicked, as Aunt Petunia liked to say, her wooden spoon out as she supervised Harry's kitchenwork.

Thusly, it shouldn't have surprised him, when he found Parvati Patil sitting in a chair in the Gryffindor Common Room, her face wet with silent tears.

Harry's steps slowed, then stopped. His mind sifted through ideas, before he plopped himself down on the nearby couch, looking indirectly at Parvati. Harry sat in silence, trying to look considerate. After all, she was clearly in a lot of pin. A long time passed, a fulminous silence that Harry's mouth longed to break.

He remained quiet.

It took about five minutes, before Harry cracked, "What's wrong?" he asked in a voice that he hoped was gentle, and not timid.

"I can't get Anthony to notice me!" Parvati said "and I've tried everything!" She burst into a new bout of tears.

Harry had heard of Parvati's reputation, but - like most reputations - he was fairly sure it was exaggerated. So, Harry looked at her, and asked, "Everything?" The implication entirely underlined for the sheer bluntness of it.

"Okay, well, maybe not that!" Parvati said, giggling.

Harry said, tentatively, "Maybe, if he doesn't even look - he's not interested?"

Parvati said, "Oh, but there's no one else, I've looked! All around him - even Padma, my twin... He never seems to have eyes for anyone..."

Harry nodded. "I'm not sure how I can help you..."

Parvati promptly swallowed him in a hug. There were times he hated being little, and this was one of them. He'd rather be looking over her shoulder, or tucking his face into the back of her neck. And, worse, he could hear Seamus calling him lucky bastard!

Parvati sat back on her chair, clutching the pillow to her chest. "What can I do?" she asked to no one in particular.

Harry reflected that it was quite a lot easier to handle a girl he wasn't good friends with, when she wanted a good cry. It didn't make his heart hurt as badly. He was also wondering why she wasn't confiding in Lavender Brown - no, that wasn't exactly what he was doing. He was longing for the days when she'd have just talked with her best friend. He knew perfectly well why she wasn't doing that today.

Ron Weasley.

While Harry hadn't been paying attention, Parvati had had an idea. He could see it written in her face, in her straight back and enthusiastic grin. "Could you, Would you pretend to date me! Anthony would HAVE to look at me then!"

Harry resisted the urge to take a step backwards, as he was sitting and that would have gone poorly. "Uh? Me?" He asked awkwardly, "Why?"

Parvati said, "You're Harry Potter, Gryffindor Seeker and Boy Who Lived."

Yeah, that was what I thought she was going to say. "No, dating the Boy Who Lived will just get you hexed," Harry said firmly, watching as Parvati seemed to deflate in her chair. "How about Seamus, or Dean?"

"I've already dated Seamus - that won't be news," Parvati said dismissively, "And Dean won't date me because of Seamus - he'd call that poaching."

"Neville?"

"Bo-ring." Parvati said.

At this point, for some stupid blinded reason, Draco Malfoy popped into Harry's head. He tried to restrain the thought, really he did.

[a/n: Do you want this as a plot? I realize I have a few month-long plots, and a year-long plot, and then the main plot. This is something that would resolve shortly.

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Not trying to troll the common trope, but it's so haaard!]