A/N-Thank you for the comments, favorites, and support! I so appreciate it when you take the time to review! Now, onto Bill and Fleur's wedding!

~Dot

Chapter 3: Come on and Dance

"Come on and dance."

Hermione froze. Ron's bluntness took her by surprise, as did the content of his question. Her mind didn't have time to process what he asked, but her body knew what to do. She stood up and took his outstretched hand as he led her to the dance floor, not able to hide the small smile that formed on her face as they walked together.

She looked down at their hands. Their hands; she was holding hands with Ron! And they were about to dance…together.

In the many hours it took to become presentable for the wedding, Hermione hadn't taken the time to imagine this. She had imagined Fleur and how lovely she'd look, she had thought about the reception and wondered how it would differ from muggle ones, she had even thought about Horcruxes and made sure that she had her beaded bag with her, just in case. But she hadn't pictured this; she hadn't dared to.

She couldn't decipher what song was playing, it all sounded like radio static, her mind not able to concentrate on anything other than the man standing across from her. He still had her hand in his, but hadn't taken her waist or tried to close the colossal space between them. She hadn't tried to either.

She knew they should do something. Regardless of her lack of dance experience, she was pretty sure that you weren't supposed to awkwardly stand still, hunched over, with sweaty hands grasped together.

She started to take small side-to-side steps, which she knew were out of rhythm, but she didn't know what else to do. With some hesitation, Ron began to copy her movements.

Before they could continue their ungainly dancing, and much to Hermione's relief, Luna came barreling in. Literally. She seemed like a tornado; spinning around so fast she was a yellow blur. A yellow blur that bumped and knocked into the other dancers, nearly causing one of Ron's elderly ancestors to fall over.

As quick as Luna came, she was gone, leaving a trail of chuckles behind her. Hermione and Ron were laughing a bit too hard, and Hermione was desperate to keep giggling for as long as possible, so as not to get back to the klutzy two-stepping they had just been doing.

But Ron seemed to have a different idea. His expression changed as fast as it had when he had asked her to dance, and he stepped closer to her and wrapped his hand around her waist, pushing them so close together that Hermione's face bumped into his shoulder, forcing her to turn her head and rest the side of her face on his chest.

It wasn't often that Hermione thought about their height difference. In fact, it had only been recently that it was noticeable. But right now, there was no way not to notice. The top of her head only made it to his shoulder, even in heels. With her ear to his chest, she could hear his fast breathing and heartbeat as they swayed to the music.

She was glad that they weren't face to face–she wasn't sure that she could look him in the eye with so much of their bodies touching. Especially when she realised the song playing was 2 Become 1. She was glad he couldn't see the blush that was burning her cheeks.

The next song was not one she recognised, though she seemed to be alone in that, as the dance floor suddenly became very full. The pop music blared as dancers began to move in unison, led by Fred and George. It reminded her of a mix of the Macarena, the Loco-Motion, and some type of skipping move, a-la Bambi.

They couldn't continue to dance the way they were–smushed up together and waddling slowly–while the others nearly made the floor bounce every time they collectively hopped. So, she and Ron separated.

With his heart flutter-inducing half-smile, Ron began doing the dance moves that accompanied the song. A quirk of his head told her to join him. As hard as she tried, she never quite got the steps right. It was especially bad when, much to her horror, she had turned to face one way and the rest of the dancers turned towards her. By the time the song ended, both she and Ron were bursting with laughter, and off-tune dance moves.

She became overly aware of her panting and sweating as the song changed to a slow one. She tried to catch her breath while looking at Ron to figure out what his plan was. Would they keep dancing separately? Would he hold her again? Or would they stop dancing all together?

Much to her delight, he chose option two. He gently wrapped his arm around her waist as she reached for his free hand. They moved in unison, a bit more coordinated this time around. He seemed a bit more sure on his feet now, even attempting to turn her once. It ended with her stepping squarely on his toes, but it was still a valiant effort.

Her head returned to his chest, but in a moment that could either be described as bravery or madness, she lifted her head up to look at him. He looked back at her, with an expression she had never seen before; his blue eyes seemed darkened and his eyelids weighed down.

She tilted her head up, just as he arched his head down.

Then a loud boom made them jump apart. After a second of fear, Hermione realised it was just the intro to the next song.

They both smiled nervously, but did not go back to dancing together–the ruckus being played was not something two could slow dance to.

"I–"

"My–"

They both began to talk at the same time. With a half-hearted smile, Ron motioned for her to talk first.

"My feet are getting a bit sore," she said, trying not to let him guess that she had just made up her sorry excuse.

"I'm a bit parched," Ron replied. "I'll get some drinks and you can go sit down?"

Hermione nodded her head and began to walk to their spot with Harry. She hoped no one could see how disappointed she was that she and Ron were no longer dancing together; that the moment had passed.