Authors Note: Just a little oneshot I came up with. It would definitely make my day if you reviewed, so bloody well do it. Please and thankies :)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise. Wish I did but.

It was time for dancing lessons at Hogwarts. The annual Ball was coming up, and each year group had to participate in mandatory dancing lessons, lead by Professor Mcgonagall. On that particular day, it was time for the 7th years to have their lessons – much to the dismay of a large percentage of the year group.

However, Ginny Weasley sat in nail-biting trepidation, her foot tapping on the floor as the music started softly in the background. She loved to dance. She loved the feel of her feet moving to the rhythm, her body swaying, getting completely lost in the music. Dancing was one of the few times when she was truly happy, truly at peace.

She waited eagerly as the Professor read out the pairings, crossing her fingers for a decent partner. She didn't really care who he was, as long as he could dance at least averagely, and wouldn't attempt to talk her ear off.

"Maria Waters with Matthew Peterson," reeled off McGonagall. The girls were in alphabetical order, the boys at random. Ginny fidgeted. She was next.

"Ginevra Weasley with," Ginny could have sworn McGonagall had paused in suspense. "Draco Malfoy."

Ginny could have sworn that her heart had quite literally detached itself from whatever it had been attached to, then decide to go for a rollercoaster ride through her body, all the way to her feet.

She numbly got up out of her seat, walking to the middle of the floor, her eyes never really focussing on anything. Draco fucking Malfoy. Great, just great. He was going to ruin the entire experience for her, just by being alive.

A finger clicked in front of her face impatiently. She refocussed, tracing her eyes from the perfect fingers, up the toned bicep, to the perfectly chiselled, handsome face.

"What, Malfoy," she said through her teeth, glaring at him.

"Nothing," he said mildly, smirking annoyingly, "Just trying to piss you off."

"Oh, bugger off," said Ginny angrily, crossing her arms and watching McGonagall for instructions, ignoring Malfoy in every way possible.

McGonagall began to go through basic steps, and Ginny drifted off into a daydream again. She knew all this like the back of her hand, she could do it in her sleep. All she wanted was to bloody well dance, to float across the floor like everything was meaningless, like nothing else mattered but the music. But no. She was stuck with twatting Malfoy. He had better keep up. In fact, she was going to tell him just what was going to happen.

"Malfoy," she hissed, kicking his foot.

"Ow!" he whispered back in surprise, glaring at her, "What, Weasley? Before you ask, no I won't make a donation to the Weasley-Needs-New-Clothes fund."

"Fuck off," she whispered in his ear, ignoring the comment, "I'm just warning you right now – you mess up this whole dancing thing for me, and I'm going to make your life hell. I will personally make sure that every single girl in this school will say no next time you oh so charmingly ask them if they will oblige in your sexual fantasies. And before you object, yes I do have the power to do that, so don't underestimate me."

Malfoy stared at her for a minute, looking a little worried, before snapping out of it.

"Don't tell me what to do Weasley," he spat, "And don't ever threaten me," he warned, leaning so close to her that she felt his breath on her cheek.

"Whatever," she commented, discomforted by his proximity.

At that exact moment, McGonagall clapped her hands loudly, indicating for the students to all get into position. Ginny moved closer to Malfoy, still giving him a look that could shatter glass.

He stepped closer too, until they were as close to each other as possible without touching.

They both stared each other down, the air thick between them, not blinking nor moving a muscle until McGonagall shouted the next instructions.

"Girls, put your left hand on the boys' left shoulder. Quickly now, don't be shy," she yelled brusquely, walking around the group and moving various girls arms into the perfect positions.

Ginny put her hand over Malfoy's shoulder easily, not giving him the satisfaction of hesitation. A look of surprise flitted across his handsome features, before he resumed his staunch expression. She tried not to think about how firm it felt, or how broad his shoulders were under his dress robes.

She tried not to look into his eyes, staring down, her arms remaining the perfect position.

"Next, boys put your left hand side of the girls' waist, gently," commanded McGonagall, again doing the rounds to check up on her pupils.

Malfoy did so in a swift, brusque movement, resting his hand gently in the curve of Ginny's waist. He tried not to think about how fit her body seemed under his touch, as well as under her dress, as he held his hand steadily in place.

He looked up at her fleetingly and caught her quickly looking away.

"Now, join your right hands together. Don't grip them, just gently clasp them together. No Finnigan, don't crush her hand – she is going to need it," she called out, reprimanding Seamus loudly.

Malfoy looked down at Ginny, and she looked up at him. They wore matching defiant expressions, complementing each other perfectly. Both put their hands into position at the same time, quickly and clumsily, and their hands slapped together ungracefully.

Ginny almost let herself smile at their blunder, before she realised whom she was with.

"Watch it Malfoy," she hissed, quickly putting her fingers over his, their hands in the perfect position.

"Shut it Weasley," he whispered back, trying not to think about how perfectly their hands fit together. Her hand was small and dainty, cool to the touch, and his larger, rougher hand cupped it faultlessly.

She was about to retort when again, McGonagall interrupted her with more instructions.

"Now, I just want you to gently sway on the spot. Just from side to side. I'm sure you can all handle that," said McGonagall, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. Any dimwit could sway from side to side.

She looked up at Malfoy again, whom had a similar expression on his face. They slowly began to sway from side to side to the music, and Ginny began to become involved in the rhythm.

She dreamily looked off into the distance over Malfoy's shoulder, pretending she was with some other tall, muscular, toned, beautiful boy. Someone like Harry perhaps.

Malfoy stared down at Ginny, watching her expression change from defiant and annoyed to completely peaceful. A small smile adorned her face and her eyes told him that she was far away – somewhere he couldn't reach her. He thought about interrupting her, to make his usual snide comment, but decided to let it go, just this once.

As he watched her, he took in every detail he could – it wasn't often that he could look at her without one of them insulting each other.

Her skin was pale and creamy, and cute freckles were sprinkled over her nose and cheeks. Her mouth was full and red, her eyes a startling green. Her hair cascaded in red lengths down her back, and Malfoy had a sudden thought of running his fingers through it.

He shook his head quickly, mad at himself, pretending thoughts like that had not just crossed his mind. What the hell was he thinking? He resumed glaring straight ahead, thankful that she was still off in lala land, and hadn't noticed a thing.

"Right! Somehow, you all managed to do that. Now if you're confident, I just want you to do whatever you know, the floor is yours. I need to assess your abilities, see what I have to teach you," said McGonagall. Her voice was edged with a disbelief that any of them had any ability to speak of whatsoever.

Ginny had jerked out of her reverie and was now looking up at Malfoy, the disbelief that had been etched in the Professor's voice reflected in her expression.

"You think I can't dance Weasley?" said Malfoy, almost dangerously.

She looked up at him, assessing his question. It seemed she decided rather quickly.

"Not a bit, Malfoy," she retorted, willing herself to be wrong.

"Well that's where you're wrong," he whispered.

And suddenly, she was being swept off her feet.

He took her across the floor, their feet moving in perfect synchronisation. The instant he had started off, her feet had followed his, almost as if they had anticipated his movements. It was as if she knew where he was going to move, step, turn.

He looked down at her as he moved, enjoying the look of complete and utter surprise that she showed, her eyes wide and startled. He was loving this.

She stared up at him, watching the smirk grow wider on his face as he stared back. She realised what her expression must have looked like and regained her composure, her face smooth and calm. She tried not to look at him, enjoying the moment, pretending it was someone else whom could dance so perfectly, so flawlessly, so... beautifully.

He saw her expression change and let himself relax, realising she was enjoying it too. He ignored the faces around them, surprised and taken back as they spun past. He let himself fall back into the music, leading her as she followed, their feet taking them far away.

She sensed him relax and looked up again, almost smiling. Almost. He looked down and caught her eye, almost smiling back. He whisked her across the floor in fluid movements, never missing a beat, never being anything other than graceful.

When he twirled her around for the first time, she was startled – but went with it, spinning around with his hand and then returning to her position in one movement, their bodies in perfect harmony.

As she spun back into position, she looked back up at him again, reflexively smiling at the effortlessness of their actions. He was already looking down at her, smiling too. As their eyes met, an energy flowed that was inexplicable – Ginny's breath caught in her throat and she gasped quietly, her eyes never leaving his. His heart began to beat faster, his palms began to sweat. Violent sparks were exchanged between them, their hands never slipping, feet never missing a step, eyes never leaving each other's.

Now, nobody else existed. It was just them, the music, and the dance floor.

Ginny couldn't understand what was happening, nor comprehend why she liked it so much. She was dancing with Draco Malfoy. And some unexplainable...something... had just happened between them, something that had caused them both to have a reaction, something that made her want to never leave this position.

He stared down at her in disbelief, his expression changing fifty times in sixty seconds. How could she, a Weasley, a muggle-lover, a Gryffindor, make him feel something so powerful? How could she even make him feel at all? Something had happened, and they couldn't take it back. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't stop dancing... didn't want to stop dancing, didn't want to stop looking at her, to stop the energy and adrenalin rush.

Her breathing began to quicken as they continued to dance, as if they were building up into some unbelievable finish, an astonishing crescendo. She could feel his breath quicken too, and realised he was feeling all the same things she was. She wondered what his next move would be – secretly, she loved that he was leading, he was in control. The suspense was nearly killing her, but having his strong arms around her made her feel safe, oddly. This was the person she had loathed for the seven years she had been at Hogwarts. The person she would never think twice about insulting, hurting, hating. And now...

Suddenly, he squeezed her hand meaningfully, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up at him and noticed his face was flustered, his breathing was fast, and matched her own. He was going to do something different.

He spun her out as he had before, and she felt her dress twirl with her, standing on tiptoe as she spun. But at the end of the turn, when his hand was supposed to lead her back in, he let her go. She continued to spin, still in position, a sudden emptiness hitting her as she realised his arms were no longer around her. Though it felt like agonizing hours, seconds later she was back in his arms – he had done a complicated movement, and she had done it too without thinking.

This time, when she flew back into his arms however, they stopped.

Without warning, without thought, without a word being spoken, they both stopped in sync.

The same energy rush as before, the same violent sparks were exchanged, and suddenly his arms were around her waist, her arms around his neck. She had never felt this close to anyone, so connected to anyone. She breathed heavily, and she could feel his heart beating a million miles a minute. They stood still, staring at each other.

Then suddenly, in one swift movement, he leant down and captured her lips with his. It was a fleeting, disastrously divine kiss, and Ginny felt herself nearly melt with desire. It was quick and sweet, but perfect – they were made for each other.

It was over all too soon, but they remained in the same position, breathing hard, lips red.

She stared up at him and their eyes met, exchanging a thousand messages, a thousand words in that one gaze.

Ginny breathed out a breath she hadn't know she had been holding and said, "Bite me, Draco," a smile flitting across her face.

He simply grinned. "That can be arranged, Ginny."

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