Word Count: 506
"You look like you're about to fall asleep."
Daphne shakes her head, the voice drawing her out of her daze and back to the present moment. She blinks rapidly, trying to focus. "Can you blame me?" she asks, adjusting the gold necklace that rests against her collarbone. A hint of a smile plays at her lips. "My family's little parties are so boring."
She remembers being younger and longing to join her parents in the ballroom. Unfortunately, since her thirteenth birthday, she has had to endure far too many of these parties, and she realizes now how incredibly dull they are. They aren't spectacular things of luxury and leisure. They are adults talking about things she doesn't care about, while teens attempt to sneak alcohol into the garden.
Blaise chuckles softly, nodding. "It is pretty bad," he agrees. "Not as bad as when Vince's dad hosts them, though."
Daphne groans. Vincent Crabbe is a nice enough bloke, but his parents have the personality of dust. "Don't remind me," she says. "Mother is supposed to have tea with Mrs. Crabbe next week, which means Astoria and I will be forced to tag along."
She knows why her parents do it. They want to get in with the elite, to try and sway them away from these ridiculous prejudices.
"I bet I can distract you," Blaise tells her. "I'll make you forget all about this party, the Crabbes, everything."
"Tempting." She raises her brows curiously. "What do you have in mind?"
Blaise holds out his hand. "Will you dance with me?"
Daphne feels heat flood her cheeks. Although her parents provided her with dance lessons from the finest tutors, she has never actually shown off her skills in a public setting. At least, that's the excuse she gives herself. It has nothing at all to do with the fact that she's been halfway in love with Blaise for the past two years.
"Come on," he says. "You know you want to."
Merlin, she does. So much.
"Why do you want to dance with me?"
Everyone knows that Blaise is picky. No girl has ever been good enough for him.
"Do I really have to spell it out for you, Daph?" he laughs, amusement clear in his dark eyes. He takes her hand. "I've been flirting with you for like three years now. Have you not noticed?"
Maybe she did notice, but she would never actually believe he meant it. Why would Blaise Zabini, the boy who is so coveted by Slytherin girls, choose her?
"Maybe I just want to hear you say it," she says, struggling to maintain her composure.
"I fancy you." Without waiting for an answer, he leads her onto the dancefloor. "Now, dance with me."
So she does. Butterflies tickle her insides, and she smiles with each graceful step they take together.
The feeling is mutual; he wants her too. And as they share a dance with one another, laughing and grinning as they go, she can't help but think how beautiful the world is.