Ceili (KAY-lee): An Irish celebration, which includes dancing, live music and (in this story) a great deal of flirting.

 

“Leslie, are you ready yet?” Hermione asked, popping her head in. “Hmm.”

 

Tonight we’re going to meet some lads
Us girls are dressed up gaily
And we’ll be dancing ‘til the dawn
We’re going to the Ceili

 

Leslie already had her dress on—the dark pink of a sunset halo—and her hair was set in her favourite perfect curls, but there were skin potions and Muggle make-ups scattered all over her dressing table. The girl in question looked up pleadingly. “Um, almost, just…five more minutes?”

 

The lads they come from miles around
From Ennis and Kilmaley
To show us all their fancy steps
We’re going to the Ceili

 

Ginny marched in and ordered, “Give me those.” She cast an expert glance over the mess, selected a bottle, and began dabbing Leslie’s face with the contents. “No arguing, I’m already done, so I get to do yours too.”

They’re playing tunes on everything
From pipes to ukulele
It sounds so good, you can’t sit down
We’re dancing at the Ceili

Leslie rolled her eyes at Hermione, who grinned back. “So,” Ginny said, her hands moving expertly, “heard from Viktor lately?”

Hermione sighed. “Sunday, just like always.”

Leslie nodded sympathetically. The relationship between Hermione and the Quidditch star was known to be rather tenuous.

All the boys we loved so well
So handsome, young, and charming
They’re in New York and Boston now
They should be home here farming
My own true love has sailed away
To be an endless rover
‘Cause times are tough and he must leave
To start a new life over

“I’m getting bored. He says he’ll be back by fall—”

“But he’s been saying things like that for over a year,” Leslie added. Ginny dusted her hands off and looked critically at her subject before picking up another bottle.

“—and I’m tired of it. He’s kind of started to sound distant, too…”

“Oh?” Leslie turned to look at her friend. “Oh, sorry, Ginny.”

“So I wrote him and told him that it’s over. I need someone who’ll be here for me.”

He writes me letters every week to say how much he’s slavin’
And he promises that he’ll be back before the hay needs savin’
But it’s hard to love somebody that you’re not in touch with daily
So I’m looking for somebody new tonight down at the Ceili

“Good,” said Ginny, satisfaction lacing her tone. “So you’re free to find meet someone else tonight!”

The other two laughed. “The Victory Ball is not meant as a dating scene,” Hermione said primly, but her twitching mouth betrayed her.

Ginny glanced down. “Leslie’s looking for someone, though, isn’t she?”

I hope I meet someone tonight who’ll make my heart beat fast
A handsome man with laughing eyes who smiles as he walks past
And when they play an old-time waltz he’ll twirl me ‘round the floor
And promise me that I will be his girl for evermore

Leslie blushed. “I’m hoping,” she admitted, “but I’m not holding my breath. I’m just trying to enjoy myself tonight.”

Hermione smiled. “I hope you find him. You deserve it.”

His girl forevermore, his girl forevermore
And promise me that I would be his girl forevermore.

In an effort to distract the others from her flaming cheeks, Leslie shot at Ginny, “What about you? I don’t see you sending either of those boys on their way anytime soon.”

I’m somewhat in a bother that is really quite alarming
I have two lads pursuing me and each of them is charming
One of them is dark and poor, one fair with lots of money
I don’t know which one to choose, the flower or the honey

“It really isn’t at all nice of you to keep them waiting,” Hermione added sternly. “Besides, I don’t know what’s holding you up. Harry’s head over heels in love with you, and you know it.”

“But you know he hasn’t any money,” Ginny countered. “At least, nothing near to Draco.”

“But he doesn’t love you, does he?”

Ginny put the last bottle down with a flourish. “I’m done, Leslie. Look, Draco’s fascinating. He’s different. He’s got so much that I could learn about. Harry’s an old friend, but I don’t know if I could live with him. Anyway, I’m going to choose tonight.”

Oh, what on earth am I to do? It’s driving me half crazy
Tonight I’ll make my mind up when I see them at the Ceili

Leslie said softly, “You don’t need to marry either of them, if you don’t love them.” As casually as Ginny spoke of her swains, Leslie knew that the two boys and the accompanying decision were causing the younger girl considerable heartache.

Ginny shrugged. “We’ll see.”

*

The Fifth Annual Victory Ball—held on the anniversary of the day that Harry Potter had conquered the Dark Lord—was the most lavish occasion that any British wizard or witch could hope to be invited to. The three women, emerging from the loo (placed conveniently near the Apparition/Floo point for the neatening of hair and brushing-off of ash) were favourably impressed by the live orchestra and the glittering fairies playing about the chandeliers.

Ginny was instantly snagged by Harry, who had obviously been waiting for them. Hermione was claimed, to Leslie’s surprise, by a man with bright ginger hair—her old school flame, Ron Weasley. Leslie glanced at the food tables and wandered to the dance floor, keenly aware of her dateless situation. A hopeful voice made her jump. “Leslie?”

She gasped. “Justin!”

Justin Finch-Fletchley grinned down at her. “I thought that might be you. Only you have those bouncy curls.”

She could feel herself going red again. “Thanks.”

“How have you been since—what, last year’s Ball? Was that when I saw you last?”

It was. She remembered that Justin had had a lovely girl at his side, and Leslie (feeling the distant sting of old hurts) had only briefly said hello before fleeing to Hermione. “I think so. You were with a girl—I don’t remember who—”

Justin looked faintly puzzled. “I was? Oh, that must have been Emma. She’s Susan Bones’ sister. Poor girl’s date ditched her at the last minute, and I was free, so Susan asked me to intervene. They live down my street.”

“Oh,” said Leslie faintly. She had always admired tall, handsome, talented Justin—fancied him through most of their Hogwarts years—but surely she was over that now. There had to be some other reason for the wave of relief she felt at his explanation. And the persistent blush. And the butterflies in her stomach.

“Hey, want to dance?” he asked suddenly.

The orchestra was playing a gliding waltz. Leslie was certain that anyone within ten feet could hear her heart pounding as Justin took her hands. She concentrated on her feet, though she was tingling with awareness of his touch. One capable hand cradled hers; the other lay gently but firmly on her shoulder blade, guiding her through the forms with ease.

As they danced, Justin kept up a running commentary. “There’s Neville Longbottom. He’s just been made the youngest ever professor at Hogwarts—Herbology, of course.”

Leslie thought of the combined classes she had had with Neville and grinned. “It would have to be, wouldn’t it?”

Justin’s laugh mixed with the music swirling around them. “Yeah. You’re a Healer now, aren’t you?”

“Yes. It took a lot of studying, but I made it.”

“Good for you. I’d let you work on me if I needed it.” His tone was mostly sincere, but there was a teasing quality that sent the butterflies in Leslie’s stomach into a frenzy.

“I’m sure it would be an enjoyable experience,” she answered, then blushed.

He laughed again and pulled her into a low dip as the song ended. Leslie reflected that bending over backwards put the girl at something of a disadvantage. For one, it gave her nowhere to look but up at her partner, who really was devastatingly good-looking when he smiled like that. For another, the very beauty of the pose—and the strong, capable hand that gently cradled her head and neck—were not helping her heart rate.

He eased her back up and asked, "Would you like a glass of punch?” Leslie followed him off the floor, trying to remember how to breathe.

With that, Justin Finch-Fletchley rescued her from loneliness and made her evening much, much more interesting. Not only did he bring her the punch—and a piece of delectable chocolate cake—but they talked nearly the whole night, both on the dance floor and off. Leslie gradually became aware that Justin’s constant presence was warding off potential dance partners, but she couldn’t find it in her to mind. Harry braved Justin once and asked Leslie to dance; Justin danced with Penelope Weasley, but reclaimed Leslie before Harry even let go of her hands. Harry grinned as Justin twirled Leslie away.

She wasn’t even aware of the time until she realized that the room was still, and that the distantly-tolling bells were only halfway through a long, intricate set of chimes. As the twelfth sweet call died away and applause filled the room, Justin said quietly, “I guess it’s time to go, then.” He did not, however, release her.

Leslie nodded unwillingly. “I suppose so. I need to find Ginny and Hermione.”

“You’re rooming with them, aren’t you?”

“Yes—oh.” As they approached the edge of the dance floor, Leslie saw that her friends were not alone.

I’ve been lucky, I’ve found a lad whose handsome and a neighbour;
And me I’ve meet a decent man whose friendship I will savour;
And me I’ve made my choice as well and in no way was it aisy
But I’d rather have a man for love than be a rich man’s lady.

Hermione was laughing with Ron Weasley, their fingers entwined on the linen tabletop. Ginny was seated on Harry’s lap and they were staring into each other’s eyes in a highly embarrassing fashion.

“They look like they could wait a few minutes,” Justin observed, and tugged Leslie gently towards one of the open doors.

She was sure that her voice would be drowned out by the blood thudding in her ears, but she managed to say lightly, “And what are we doing out in the garden?” She almost didn’t have breath to finish, because Justin captured her other hand as she spoke.

Justin looked down at their hands and began to rub his thumbs gently over her knuckles. “I just wanted to say that I’ve really enjoyed this evening. We were such good friends at Hogwarts, I can’t believe we didn’t keep in touch after we left school.”

Leslie felt her disappointed heart slow. She opened her mouth to try and reciprocate, but Justin continued, “And I also wanted to ask if you would like to have dinner with me next week.”

At that dizzying moment, fireworks actually burst overhead, signalling the end of the evening. Leslie smiled up at Justin, enjoying the play of the coloured lights over his face. “I’d love that.”

“Leslie! Leslie, where are you?”

Leslie sighed. As she turned to go, Justin caught her arm and, eyes locked on hers, slowly brought her hand to his mouth and planted a gentle, lingering kiss on it. She smiled a rather giddy smile over her shoulder as she ran lightly inside.

And that is how the story ends, may true love never fail me
We got ourselves three men tonight and we met them at the Ceili!