It was just a week before the Yule Ball now, and a familiar girl crossed the Great Hall toward him at lunch the following week, doing so with a very specific kind of purpose, and Blake understood what was happening about three seconds before it happened.
Sophie again, huh?
She had come up to Blake for 'a chat' multiple times now, maybe in the double digits, over the past few weeks, and the muggleborn boy had no idea what to do. Anytime the topic of the Ball had come up, he had done his best to state he wasn't interested in going with anyone but he couldn't tell if Sophie believed him or not. He did like not, as a friend - she was clever, witty and nice, and the fact that she was objectively one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen was a bonus too.
People kept on commending him for garnering her attention, especially because she was in the year above, and she was - he tried to think of the neutral, factual way to describe it - extraordinarily good-looking, in a way that was doing something to the ambient attention of everyone nearby, even without her allure.
"Hello again, Blake," she said, smiling at his friends for a moment before refocusing her attention on him.
"Hey, Sophie. How's it going?"
"I am doing okay for now," she said with a smile. "And you? Found anyone for the Yule Ball yet?"
He laughed.
"No, not yet. Have you?"
"Yes, I have."
"Really?" Blake said, surprised. I thought she was going after me…? Girls really are confusing. Either way, that makes it simpler for me though, thank God.
"That's great! Who is it?"
Sophie smiled even wider, with something that seemed almost like nervousness.
"You, hopefully."
Oh.
The nearby conversations immediately died down as all eyes were on Blake.
F*ck.
"Oh - I thought - I'm sorry, Sophie," he said apologetically, as her eyes widened in disbelief. "But I'm not planning on going to the Ball with anyone."
For a second, Sophie looked down, quiet, before she looked back at him and laughed gently.
"You don't have to apologise, Blake," she said, sounding slightly disappointed. "Besides, it's my own fault - I should've known better," she continued wisely, casting a glance at Daphne. "Anyway, I'll see you later, okay?"
"Wha- okay, bye!"
He went back to his lunch. For a second after, their area of the Great Hall stayed quiet, but it went back to normal just as quickly.
His friends, however, wouldn't be so quick to forget. Tracey's smile widened into something knowing. "Soooo… why did you say no?"
"She's not who I want to go with," Blake replied casually.
"Then who do you-"
"No one," he snapped quickly. "You know what I mean!"
Tracey leaned back, smiling, and said nothing.
Blake kept his eyes down at his food for the rest of lunch. It was a good thing for a certain other girl, though, because if he had looked up, he would've seen her blushing, despite herself.
/
The Thursday after, Krum came to the Slytherin table at lunch.
He crossed the Great Hall in long, purposeful, direct strides, and stopped in front of their group, and looked directly at Daphne, and in that moment, Blake understood, with complete clarity, why he hadn't liked him at the World Cup.
"Greetings, Ms…" he began.
"Daphne Greengrass," she responded, meeting his gaze.
"Greetings, Ms Daphne Greengrass," he said, bowing slightly. "I am Victor Krum."
"It's a pleasure, Mr Krum," she responded cordially.
"You are a very beautiful woman. Would you accompany me," Krum said, in his heavy accent, looking at Daphne, "to the Ball?"
Aren't you 18? Why the hell are you asking out a 14 year old?
Daphne looked at him for a moment.
"No, thank you," she said.
Krum looked at Blake.
Blake looked back at him.
Several seconds passed.
Then Krum nodded - not unfriendly, but not friendly either - and walked back across the Great Hall.
"What was that?" Charlotte said.
"Nothing," Blake and Daphne said, at the same time.
/
Finally, the day of the long dreaded Yule Ball arrived.
"I hate this sh*t," Blake said, looking in the mirror at the sleek dress robes he was wearing. All black, with streaks of forest green styled in lines across and running down the sides.
"Tell me about it," Zabini groaned. Unfortunately, he had to match with Tracey, and she had decided that they would both be wearing bright pink.
Blake held back a laugh.
"You don't look bad," he promised him. "You just look ridiculous."
Zabini swore at him all the way down to the entrance hall, where they came face to face with the girls.
Blake thought that he had adequately prepared for this. He'd thought it through, practically, and told himself she'd look nice because she always looked put-together, and he'd handle it fine.
He'd been slightly wrong about that.
The dress was deep, forest green, matching the streaks of colour on his robes perfectly. Her hair was down in a different style to normal - good different, he easily decided. She looked up at him when she heard their voices, and for a second, her expression was of something he couldn't decipher, before defaulting to her normal, neutral one, which he was grateful for.
"You're on time," she quipped.
"Don't sound so surprised," he sighed.
"Where's Tracey?" Zabini asked.
"Saving a table," Charlotte replied, before glancing at Blake and Daphne knowingly. "Come on."
"I'm pleasantly surprised," Daphne replied, in response to what he'd said earlier. "There's a difference."
Blake sighed, turning towards the entrance. There was a massive queue, as expected. He looked around, looking to see if he knew anyone there.
Harry and Cedric were likely already inside, given they were Champions, and from what he'd heard, Hermione was going with Krum (which he hated), but Ron was nowhere to be seen. He's probably inside then.
"Well then?" Daphne prompted him. Blake sighed again.
"I hope it's going to be a good night."
They went in.
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