Harry's hands were on her waist as he and Ginny spun around the Great Hall. Draco could see them from where he was, could see Ginny wince in pain whenever Harry stepped on her feet. What kind of man couldn't dance without stepping on his partner's feet?

"Ouch," Pansy said.

Well, maybe a man could, occasionally, be forgiven for stepping on his partner's feet.

"Sorry, Pansy," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

When he put his hand back on Pansy's waist, he could feel the coolness of the gel still on his fingers. He hoped she wouldn't notice. Girls go crazy over gel, Crabbe had told him. Why he listened to Crabbe, he wasn't sure. Especially since he'd never had trouble getting girls to go crazy over him before. Although in Ginny Weasley's case, it was less lovestruck-crazy and more was-she-going-to-hex-a-swarm-of-bats-to-go-after-him crazy.

"You haven't…" Pansy started to say, before trailing off. She looked down at her shoes, thick eyelashes casting shadows on her face.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Well, I feel stupid for saying this, but you haven't said one thing about how I look tonight."

"Oh. Well, you look beautiful."

It was true. Pansy did look beautiful. She was wearing a green dress lined with emeralds, one that shimmered every time he spun her. Her hair was in dark ringlets, framing her rose-dusted cheeks. And her eyes were lined in a sharp black, making it impossible to ignore her blue sky eyes. She looked every bit the part of the Slytherin Princess, as he'd heard many of his younger housemates call her. He saw some of them now, narrowing their eyes enviously as him because he was Draco Malfoy, her Slytherin Prince.

"Draco, this dress cost me a hundred Galleons. And yet, you can't take your eyes off that Weasley girl in her hand-me-down pink dress that clashes with her unfortunate hair."

"It doesn't clash with her hair," he said, before he could stop himself. Pansy crossed her arms. "And how could I look at her when you're here? I'm offended that you even think I could be attracted to a Weasley."

"Oh, shove off, Draco. I can't say I approve of your choices, but I'd at least like you to own up to them."

"But…But I was planning on asking you to be my girlfriend again tonight."

It was true. It was time for him to forget Ginny and live out his destiny as the Malfoy heir. A Parkinson was the perfect match for him.

His perfect match rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, that's not happening. And Draco? Don't talk to me for a few weeks. And then beg me for my forgiveness. And then maybe, just maybe, we can still be friends and put this behind us."

He was about to retort that he never begged for anything, but then he noticed that her eyes were glimmering. Was— was she crying?

"Pansy, I….I'm sorry."

She gave him a stiff nod, before grabbing his wrists and gently lifting his hands off her waist. And then she left, not looking at him again for the rest of the night.

But Draco barely noticed. Even as he danced with blushing girl after blushing girl, he couldn't stop shooting daggers at Potter every time he stepped on Ginny's feet. And he couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he did like that Weasley girl after all.