When We Danced: Beauty by Rumors
(Hermione Granger)
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing.
Hermione Granger was not a great dancer. She wasn't a good dancer. Hell, she wasn't a dancer, period. End of sentence. Please do not ask. You want to know? Silly person. Well, alright.
Imagine a girl of average height and build. No, a bit shorter and thicker. Average, people; not the unreasonably pretty that passes for average on TV and in movies. Got it? Good. Add on very bushy, and I mean bushy, brown hair. Cute little nose and big brown eyes. Now set her in the middle of a room and turn on the radio. Watch as she steps out of time with the music and her arms flail above her head for some unknown purpose. Perhaps she's trying to direct airplanes. Her hips move in no pattern, having little to do with the rhythm of the music.
But her whole heart goes into every awkward move. A slow song comes on, and a young man steps in to dance with her. His feet are stepped on, and when he spins her out she almost falls. Yet she still dances, smiling and exultant. She knows she cannot dance and never will be able to, but by God she will be out there doing something. And she is beautiful.