(A/N: This is another one of mine, very very late, but I hit a rough patch. Part two of dance, in Harry's POV. Next one is the last Dance, in Hermione's POV because I love the idea of them at the Yule Ball.
Leave suggestions! I promise to put them up with your credit!)
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The music was starting. Merlin, it was beginning...
Harry's mind went blank. He tried to remember all the stupid dance moves Daphne and his aunt had taught him (his ADOPTED aunt, not that muggle bitch with his mother's name), but it was like someone had hit him in the back with Obliviate- everything was gone.
Hell, it was one of those weird slow-but-fast-at-the-same-time mixes, what was he supposed to do?!
"Harry?"
Feet go here, arms go there, not to high but not too low either, he didn't want her thinking he likes her-
"Harry!"
He couldn't see her feet! How was he supposed to know where not to step? Left or right? How long was he supposed to hold her up? What if he dropped her?
"Harry."
He felt like a giant arse, he was going to screw up-
"Harry, Merlin. Stop thinking so much. Look at me."
He blinked. Blinked again. Looked. And stopped thinking.
He didn't need to think about his arms suddenly fitting perfectly around the warm curves of her waist, or the way her feet pivoted delicately to avoid his, or the swish of her dress against his body, and the nervous smile on her face (were her teeth smaller than before?)
He didn't need to think, because it was just there, and that was fine with him.