across the room
disclaimer: not mine.
--
I
He takes her hand and leads her through the melody. Centre stage they sweep and they dip and it's like a flip of a Knut; spinning and spinning and spinning and everyone else is waiting for the outcome. Heads. Tails. Does it really matter? The end result, as everyone knows, is happiness.
Theirs.
There is someone by his side and offering him a drink of Butterbeer, and though he takes it, warmth elusive to his cold hands, almost dead but not quite, and as he drinks down the happiness-inducing substance (or was that Honeydukes' best chocolate?) but the effect is the same, null and void.
(he does not see her tears)
II
She looks in his way while she twirls, bright with laughter; and out of the corner of his eye he sees a twist of red-brown-ginger-orange and for a second he forgets about the person dancing in front of him, at the left of the hall, because that door seems to be blurring into the background so long as the girl he loves looks at him.
Her.
He doesn't realize when he stops dancing, frozen in some sort of dream and a strawberry blonde, honey blonde girl is gazing at him with an expression he doesn't recognize, but wears so clearly on his own face, directing it at someone else. She slips away, and it's like a ghost murmuring farewell.
(he does not hear her cries)
III
It's his turn at last, and he pulls her hand, fitting so perfectly in his, and they sway with a giggle and an awkward conversation because words seem to thicken his throat and he just can't say a thing. He wants to, though. Wants to so badly. Wants to run to the door at the right and run and run and never stop. But all he can manage is a smile that breaks his own heart. Hopes that it conveys you're beautiful and I love you and please, please, stay with me—
Him.
But she doesn't understand, immersed in radiance and happiness and beauty. And he knows that he's not the Boy Who Lived and never will be, but… all the same. Her hair swirls as they waltz in circles and for a second, red becomes orange becomes yellow, and it's only because the whole world is blurring and he can't stay here any longer in this vision of perfection. So she smiles, lets him go; and when he turns and leaves, he does not look back.
(but he feels them all the same.)