2 - Ron
"Now, put your right hand on my waist."
He blinks. "Whaa?" It's a strangled sort of noise, and he glances around a bit before realizing that it was him.
The class breaks out into laughter, and he feels a blush start somewhere at the level of his ears. He gulps.
McGonagall takes his hand and places it on…her waist. He resolves not to move that hand at all during this stupid – bloody – dance class.
He tries not to pay attention to the snickers around the room as McGonagall half-drags him around the floor.
The music…just concentrate on the music, don't look at her, don't look at her (that's easy since you got that growth spurt, right? Just don't look into her eyes)
And it's awkward.
And worst of all, Fred and George take every opportunity that comes up to remind him:
"Awful, isn't he?"
"Yes, a great bloody failure."
"Couldn't even get McGonagall.
"And we've heard she's –
"Easy!"
Or:
"One-Two-Three, ickle Ronniekins!"
"Hand on the waist, right?"
He hopes they'll forget soon. But George and Fred never forget a good joke.
He supposes he'll have to deal with it. Fred and George are his brothers, and, well, they always will be.