Concerning Canon Accuracy: Disregard it. Blatantly ignore the part where Colin dies. Pretend that it's Nigel dying so that Colin still lives.
Disclaimer: If I'm having to talk about canon accuracy like this, do you honestly think I hold any copyright?
One, Two, Three, One, Two, Three
"One, two, three. One, two, three," Ginny patiently counted. A hesitant hand held her waist and her right hand. It was calloused and rubbed against hers in an unfamiliar way. "No, your foot goes back, mine goes forward." Wincing, she broke her stance to bend down and examine her foot.
"I-I'm really really sorry Ginny," her partner stammered. "I didn't mean to, I'm dreadfully sorry. Can we try again? I promise I won't mess up this time. We actually got a bit better." His youthful face brightened.
Ginny didn't have the heart to say what was on her mind. Yeah, we finally got past the first ten steps. Big improvement. In what she hoped was a convincing smile, she responded, "Of course! From the top then?"
"Uh-huh," was the nervous reply. As they resumed the haltingly slow dance, the young man looked up from his penetrating gaze at the floor where their feet were trying not to collide. "Thank you for working with me. I've never danced before and I don't want to look like a fool."
"One, two, three. One, two, three. Not even at the Yule Ball?" Ginny asked as he led her through the steps with relative ease.
"No, too young," he casually commented. "Only reason you went was because of Longbottom, right?" A determined look of concentration creased his face. Silently, he was mouthing the steps.
"Right. Now spin me out," Ginny commanded. Internally, she braced herself, but found herself spun with complete gentleness. The dance was over.
"I-I-I did it!" Wide-eyed and amazed, her dancing partner swiftly picked her up and spun around before hastily setting her down. Spontaneously, he kissed her cheek. Ginny's eyes widened slightly as he flushed. Belatedly, he realized what he had done. "Harry, Harry won't kill me will he?" He hurriedly backed away as if she had dragon pox. "For kissing his fiancee?"
"No, of course not," Ginny murmured soothingly. "Who would be our wedding photographer then?" Her laugh was that of bells. "Same time tomorrow Colin?"
"Yes, and I'll take the photographs immediately afterward," Colin muttered. "You're sure he won't kill me?"
"I promise."