A/N: Thank you to those who have reviewed. It's hard to tell whether the writing's going all right without some criticism. So I'm glad you liked the first chapter/scenario! :) New readers: Please feel free to make me smile bigger by reviewing, too! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

SCENARIO 2: Offer a Free Sample

Countless eyes froze across the spans of the room, staring across the great divide of hormones mixed with fear of coordination. It was time for dance lessons, day one. Witches or not, the Gryffindor students were still teenagers. Frightened, klutzy teenagers. And the boys were particularly worse off.

So when Professor McGonagall released Ron from their wooden exhibition, the rest of the students ended their snickers with the realization that it was their turn now. Fred and George resolved their conversation with Harry to watch one brave Neville Longbottom make the first move on their side, crossing the room to dare and ask a partner to the floor. As more people came together, Fred searched the sea of Gryffindor girls to find a particular witch. Their eyes made instant contact and he smiled. He jerked his head to the center of the floor with a smirk. She raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms. He held his arms out and mimicked a supposedly suave dance move. She half-smirked and shrugged playfully. He clasped his hands together, begging with his traditional puppy eyed, pouty expression. She rolled her eyes and mouthed her concession before moving towards him. They met in the middle, taking a post near Harry and Hermione. Ron was a few people away with Katie Bell, sending envious daggers towards Harry. Hermione must still be sore at him.

"Melodramatic much?" Angie asked facing him.

"A guy's gotta do what he can."

"You couldn't just ask?"

"Not as much fun."

"What, like this class isn't going to be awkward as anything?"

"Not if we make it fun," he suggested as the professor advised the guys to take the leading stance. "Beg your pardon," he added as he placed one hand on her hip and took her hand in his free one.

She smiled. "Fred Weasley, always the gentleman."

"Only when in the presence of a lady like yourself."

"Oh that's tripe."

He smirked down at her. "I try when I can."

The next duration consisted of the professor trying to guide the students through the basic moves of the traditional dance that would begin the ball. It consisted of a quick step and switches between leading hands and twirling.

"Fred, I'm not getting this foot work."

"Just follow my lead."

"Well then lead better," she suggested, sticking out her tongue.

He rolled her eyes. "You're getting the twirl, right?"

"I think so?"

"Let's check." Without warning, Fred disregarded the professor's orders and turned Angelina in towards him. In one fluid move, she found herself spinning around his lifted hand's guidance as his free hand gently pushed against her back. Her hair and skirt followed her movements as she found herself at arms length away from her partner. Hand-in-hand, Fred gently tugged her back toward him, his hand nestling on her hip. The entire move happened within the music's timing and she was caught slightly breathless. "Yeah, you're getting the twirl," he concluded smoothly.

"You're good," she commented, feeling warmed by his voice. "How are you so good at this?"

"Secret."

"Ms. Johnson. Mr. Weasley. Would you two mind terribly to actually follow directions for the sake of argument?" McGonagall lectured. The two students straightened up and took a moment to match up with their classmates. Off to the side, Hermione yipped as Harry stamped on her foot. Luna's natural yet absurd grace was proving a good match to Neville's footsteps; though he was having difficulty maintaining the leading position such that she would sometimes float away and forget to come back. George and Alicia were stiff as two planks of wood, working through their mutually unvocalized interests in each other. Katie was as forgiving as she could be for Ron's inability to get the steps' patterns down. Fred and Angelina were doing considerably well.

Regardless, Angelina couldn't ignore the fact that Fred was a naturally good dancer. He wasn't perfect, though. Sometimes, he would forget to maintain the proper distance from her and would pull her in closer than needed. Sometimes, his leading hand would tarry and his thumb would softly rub along hers instead of remaining stiff and flexible for a moment's spin. Sometimes, he would lose focus of their surroundings and they would run into another couple, his attention seemingly fixed elsewhere. But he was wonderful at twirling her, and she realized that she loved to be twirled. And when they learned the lifts, she felt very comfortable and safe as his hands cradled her hips. And he had such nice shoulders to brace against.

Finally, the lesson reached the point where the professor allowed the students to practice what they had just learned without direct guidance. Instead, she would walk around the room and observe, applying the necessary spells to prevent girls from being dropped or guys from being savagely kicked in the shins.

"You know, this isn't as bad as I thought it'd be," Angelina admitted as they tried the quick switches.

"Of course not. You're such a cynic, you know."

"I am not!"

"Of course you are. Assuming the worse in people. I'm sure you assumed that Harry wouldn't be able to refrain from killing his partner's toes," Fred mentioned as they looked over to catch Hermione yelp again, "or that Neville might be a reincarnation of that muggle bloke… Astaire or something?" Neville was still wrangling Luna into keeping to the dance, but he was doing surprisingly well at learning the steps. "And I know you figured my twin brother would be just plain awful on the floor."

"I heard that," George grumbled, lifting Alicia haphazardly nearby.

Angelina laughed. "But Fred, all of those things are true."

"I heard that, too," George added, managing to bring Alicia back to the floor safely.

"Hmm, guess you're right. You're cynical but wise, I suppose," he added with a shrug before lifting her.

"You have such high regards for me. Then why'd you ask me to dance?"

"Maybe I wanted to show you that I'm pretty good myself."

"Which you have."

"And maybe I wanted to show you how not as good the other blokes are." The two watched as Ron tried in vain to switch his arms properly, Katie sighing in exasperation.

"Which is true, apparently. But it's only the first lesson, to be fair. Plenty of time to improve."

"Which is fair. But maybe I figured that if you saw how good I'm already shaping out to be, that'd be more incentive for you."

"For me to what?"

"To go to the ball with me," he asked, feeling the blush annoyingly rise.

"Me? Ball? With you?" she repeated in surprise.

"Sure. I think it'd be a lot of fun. At least you wouldn't have to worry about me stepping on your toes all night."

"Or dropping me on my head."

"Right."

"Or trying to cop a feel."

"Right. Wait, I never said anything about that," he corrected with mischevious eyes. She pulled out of his hold, resting her hands on his hips with her classic "don't even try that on me" pose. Fred chuckled, taking one of her hands and twirling her back into the music. "I'd try to behave as best I could. But I can't be held accountable if you show up in an enticing dress. I'm only human. And I know you."

"What does that mean exactly?"

"If you go with me to the ball, you'll probably torture me all night long in some little number that'll send stars around my head till I'm dizzy."

"Is that really what I'd do or is that wishful thinking on your part?"

"And you're a pretty good dancer yourself, which means you'll probably be dancing rings around me with that bubbly giggle you say you don't have."

"Because I don't have a bubbly giggle!"

"And I'll be struggling all night to keep you impressed when you'll probably be so amazing in every way possible that I'll look ten times more incredible just being your date."

She couldn't suppress her shy smile at that. At least she managed to recover from it with a thoughtful expression of consideration. "Hmm. You're right. That all sounds like something I would do or things that would happen. If I went with you," she added with as much nonchalance as she could muster.

He lifted her. "Well then? Are you really going to turn up an offer to have me bumbling like an idiot for an entire night?"

"Considering what else I have to work with? …Fred?"

"Yes?"

"Prepare yourself. You're going to turn into a puddle of butterbeer when I'm through with you."

"I am one poor and lucky bastard." His smile shot to her spine and into her knees, which tripped up her feet and caused her to slip a little on the spot. Fred adjusted his hold, finding the small of her back in time to dip her slightly so she wouldn't fall onto the ground. The touch was electric.

She smiled up at him weakly. "I think that makes two of us."

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