Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm not making any money from this in any way.

Slash of the male/male kind will eventually be appearing in this story. If you don't like slash, or the idea of Harry/Severus, then please leave. Don't read what you don't like.

I dedicate this story to DT – who, despite being really busy this year, I've still managed to keep in touch with. huggles

Once again (like usual) I apologise for the amount of time it's taken me to get this chapter out. I've had this short (like really short) one written for a while – and having just read over it, decided that, while it is short – it fits in well, and I can carry on properly in the next one.

As a note – I still can't figure out how to get my little star-thingies to work, so instead you'll have to put up with horizontal rules instead. Bler.

Chapter Ten

Potter smiled at me. He's eyes lighting up brightly. I can't believe that I, Severus Snape, am going to teach Harry Potter how to dance. What have I gotten myself into?

What have I gotten myself into indeed? It seems that Potter is as bad as he claimed to be at dancing. This is almost as bad as the Dark Lord's torture. Perhaps we should ask the Dark Lord to dance with Potter. That would surely kill him off.

Or scar him seriously for life.

Either one would be good.

Alright then… honestly, Potter isn't that bad. He's bad. But nothing I can't fix by the ball…

Or at least I hope so.

"Sorry Professor."

"Ouch. That was my right foot you realise Potter?"

"Yes Professor. I'll try not to step on your right or left foot again."

"That was the fifteenth time you've poked those bloody sharp heels into my right foot alone tonight… And we've only been dancing for half an hour."

I nod my head in agreement. It has felt like I've had more of Snape's foot underneath my heels than I've had floor.

"You're taking off those heels right this minute. I refuse to try to dance with you while you are still wearing them."

What? Not wear heels? But… But… I haven't not worn heels since I had this glamour placed on me. Can I even walk properly without them now? It would be strange…

Gods – what is the boy just standing there for? He's not even taking of those infernal 'heels'. Argh. Dumbledore actually commented to me how 'Jamari' has terrific taste in shoes yesterday. Ha. I'd like to see him say that after dancing with Potter.

"Hurry up Potter. If you want to learn how to dance – then the shoes have to go."

He just keeps on looking at me with a dumbfounded look on his face. Sigh. Why does everything have to be so difficult?

Before I realise what's happening I find myself pushed onto the lounge with Snape kneeling down in front of me. How perfect.

What!?!

Snape, kneeling, me liking it, sexual innuendo. This is way too weird.

He's mumbling something… focus…

"Bloody idiot can't even take off his own shoes…"

Oh. So he's not…

Damn.

Wait!?! I shouldn't be thinking that.

I don't want Severus in that way.

Hold up… Severus!?! Argh! I'm meant to be thinking Snape, not Severus!

Do I have to do everything? Pulling Potter up from the chair I see that he's stunned. I wonder what he was thinking? He's actually gone slightly pink, and his lips are pouting a bit…

"Alright Mr. Potter, are you ready for another try?"

I watch as he just nods his head. His eyes are still wide and glassy. It's like he's stuck in his own world.

At least I don't have to worry about pointy sharp shoes digging into my feet now.

I flick my wrist and the music starts up again, I love how it does that, so useful. Sighing I pull Potter close to me so our bodies are touching and start to dance.

Whoa. I'm dancing. Like properly dancing.

This is amazing.

My first lesson with Severus – and I'm already able to dance. Sort of.

Still fumbling a little bit, and Severus has to keep on guiding me a lot, but I think that I'm getting the hang of this. It's really not that bad. Just have to follow what Severus is doing and move where he directs me.

Perhaps that's where Hermione and I were going wrong – I was trying lead.

But now – now that I don't have to lead – I can dance.

Finally the bloody boy has gotten it.

Finally.

Now we just have to keep on practicing every night till the ball and he should be proficient enough not to embarrass us both.

To the Lovely Reviewers

Thank you everybody who's said that they really enjoy reading my story – it really makes writing YWW! a worth while endeavour that I enjoy all the more with your fantastic messages.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter (or actually, it's more like an interlude) and there should be another coming soon – either with the ball, or set just before the ball.