Sorry it took so long for me to get this out. I was updating my profile and summary. :D

The following day found Harry up early and wandering the halls of Hogwarts Castle with rising anxiety. Theodore didn't find him until after breakfast where he discovered him pacing in an empty classroom.

"Just ask Roy." Theo told him as he took a seat on an old desk. "Or, if it's the bloke deal, than ask Tracey Davis. She'll say yes for sure."

Harry stopped pacing and faced his friend. "I'm sorry, Theo. I really should be saying yes to you and I would...maybe...if I wasn't so..."

"Self-conscious, I know." Theodore didn't seem even a little fazed by the idea. "Don't worry about it, Harry. Just ask Tracey. "

"But how?" Harry covered his face with his hands. "Ugh...I'm a total loss."

"You think you're a loss?" Theo snorted, cracking open a book. "Both Goyle and Crabbe were turned down. Rachel I understand, but Millicent? I'm really quite shocked she didn't latch onto an invitation from him as I doubt anyone else will ask her."

"Poor blokes."

"I guess."

Harry stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, gazing at the ceiling and wishing he could melt into the floor so that he didn't have to go to this stupid ball. There would be so many people staring at him and he'd be up against competitors like Krum and Diggory, who would look dashing of course, and he had no idea what he was doing and there would be dancing...

"Dancing!" Harry yelped abruptly, causing Theo to jump and drop his book. "There's going to be dancing, Theo! I don't know how to dance! I can't dance!"

Picking up his book, Theo stood and heaved a heavy sigh. "I'll teach you. It's really not that hard."

"Not for you, maybe."

"Come here." Theodore waved Harry over, but the other boy stood in the middle of the room, suddenly frightened at the prospect of dancing even with his best friend. "Come here, Harry."

Quivering slightly, Harry shuffled over to his friend, who immediately set him up as the lead, which was very awkward as Theodore was almost a whole head and a half taller than Harry.

"And it's like this: one...two...three...and...one...two...three...and..." Theodore began slowly taking Harry in circles.

"This vaguely reminds me of a movie..." Harry murmured, recalling the "King and I" that Petunia had been very fond of for some time.

Theodore gave a snort and continued to instruct, slowly so Harry could keep up. It took a little while (as Harry was concentrating hard on not stomping on his friend's feet) before it registered in Harry's mind how close he was to Theodore and how warm the other's body was. Theodore's grip was firm and his bony hands were clenched tight onto Harry's shoulder and hand. His arms were rigid and unyielding and his strides long and sure. His actions weren't liquid, despite how much his voice demanded he be silky smooth in everything. Instead, he jerked about the dancing, partially leading Harry through the motions even though it was supposed to be Harry's job to lead. Regardless of this, he never stepped on Harry and they never tripped each other up. Despite that there was nothing comfortable or pleasant really about dancing with Theodore, Harry could feel his heart speeding up and his body warm with excitement.

"Think you've got it down." Theodore finally said, stopping and releasing Harry from the death grip, which Harry was partially grateful for and, yet, immediately wished the heat of Theodore's skin would return to his. "Be fine, I'm sure."

Harry stood there, staring at the ground, and watched Theodore's feet begin to turn to head for the desk again. Suddenly, Harry blurted, "Maybe you should dance as the lead that way I can see how it's supposed to be done."

He had no idea why he had threw that idea out there. The moment it was out of his mouth, he realized what he had said and how ridiculous it had sounded. Theodore just exhaled with partial exasperation, but consented anyways.

Fixing Harry into the following stance, Theodore took up the lead and began to dance Harry around the room to silent music. The struggle for lead gone, Theodore had relaxed a little and settled into a spidery step while Harry just floated along like a ghost with him. The tension began to dissipate between them when Theodore started to hum lightly a tune Harry didn't recognize, but it seemed to work fine with what they were doing. Closing his eyes, Harry tried to imagine this being all right at the Yule Ball, but his gut wriggled inside him, reminding him of his fears and anxieties that wouldn't permit him.

They continued to dance for some time, Theodore humming and Harry's eyes closed. Eventually, Harry had rested his head on Theo's chest and listened to the thrumming of his friend's heart, like a drum to the song they danced. It took some time to finally pull away and then Harry was looking up into Theo's eyes, his dream rushing back to him all in the same motion, but there wasn't laughter or ridicule in Theodore's eyes. What resided there, Harry couldn't identify. Hurt, perhaps? Pain?

It wasn't until Theodore had finally released the other and started packing up his belongings that Harry realized the emotion could have been longing. He didn't bring it up and instead thanked his friend before heading off to lunch with him. While the thought tried very hard to haunt Harry all day, he did his best to exorcise it out of his mind and was finally able to ask Tracey Davis to the ball and she had said, "Yes" as Theo had assumed she would.

It didn't hit him until he was lying in bed staring at the canopy how bad a friend he was.

Theodore had asked Harry to the ball and had "honestly" wanted to go with Harry, which could only mean one thing: Theo liked Harry...and Harry had turned him down with questions for advice on asking someone else instead and then he had requested dancing lessons, which would have caused Theodore considerable emotional harm since he had wanted Harry to return the feelings.

Guilt tied Harry's intestines into knots and he tossed and turned in bed for hours, mentally beating himself for being so inconsiderate and naive and rude to his best (and only real) friend. Unable to stand how much he loathed himself, he crawled out of bed and slunk off out of the dormitory into the common room where he belittled himself some more and then he tried to practice some magic to occupy his thoughts before he was murdering his brain in cold blood. These activities didn't seem to work and, grumbling at his lack of concentration, he went to one of the green-light windows, which peered out into the murk of the Black Lake and forced (with quite some effort) to think about his next task and what alternative plans he should have in case things went awry.

These thoughts followed him to sleep as somewhere in the dark of the lake voices sang incoherently through the waters like an eerily foreboding lullaby.

Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did... stupid Harry :D