Daphne could see the fire that was burning in those emerald green orbs and it made her heart flutter. His grip tightened around her waist as they glided around the dance floor, enjoying themselves. Several couples too joined them and pretty soon, the ball was in full swing.
Harry and Daphne had not uttered a word since they had begun dancing. Their eyes were locked at each other's, their faces getting impossibly close as they danced. Over the last three years and because of the many balls that Harry had to attend, he had learnt more dancing styles from Daphne. It helped because Daphne was a trained dancer, having been instructed by a teacher since the age of four. Harry spun her around and dipped Daphne in full view of everyone, his lips just barely touching hers. Leaning down slowly, he kissed her softly but with full of love, just as Daphne reciprocated.
After an hour, the couple was tired and breathing hard so they made their way to the drinks counter. Harry wandlessly cast a cooling charm on them both to get more comfortable.
"Here you go," said Harry as he passed her a glass of Madam Rosmerta's finest mead, another glass which he was holding for himself.
"Where's mine?" asked Dylan as he sat down, gasping for breath.
"You're twelve, brat, you don't get to drink mead," said Harry, his lips twitching in amusement as he took a sip. "This is for fourteen and older. There are other stronger ones at the table, but I'm not old enough for those."
"Weren't you the one who said alcohol doesn't affect witches and wizards all that much?" protested Dylan. "Besides, I've seen you drink something worse when you were thirteen!"
"And have you forgotten Aunt Amelia shouting at me for half an hour and grounding me for a week for getting drunk? I never want to see the dungeons of Black Castle again in my life!"
"What?" said Daphne sharply. "This is the first I've heard of this incident!"
"Good going, little brother," said Harry sarcastically. "And for that, you won't get the glass of mead from me."
"It's fine, Dylan," said Astoria, patting his arm. "You can get us butterbeer instead."
"Oh, alright," Dylan grumbled. Harry winked at the girls as he followed Dylan, disappearing in the crowds.
"So, how was the dance with Dylan?" asked Daphne, sipping from her glass.
"Yeah, about that," said Astoria slowly. "How in Merlin's name can he dance so well? I actually came prepared by applying numbing charms on my toes."
"He has been practising for a month just to impress you, using all those spells which can help him learn faster," said Daphne as she smiled slightly. "Harry's been teaching him."
"Oh, that explains it," Astoria chuckled.
Just before she could say anything, Daphne was interrupted. "May I have this dance?"
She just glared at the boy. "If either one of you pranks me again, I'll break your legs and ensure you can't walk for the rest of your lives," she snarled as she got up, accepting the boy's extended hand.
"Daphne, you wound us!" exclaimed Fred, holding his hand over his heart.
"Yeah, we would never prank you!" said George looking indignant.
"Oh, please," muttered Daphne, rolling her eyes in exasperation as she was steered away by George. "Save it for someone who believes you two reprobates. Just keep those puking pastilles away from me and you'll return to your beds alive."
Astoria giggled in amusement when she saw Fred wink at her, mouthing 'prank'. Oh, Daphne was going to kill those two someday. Before she could look for her date, Draco Malfoy made his way over to her.
"May I have this dance, Astoria?" he asked politely.
"Of course, Draco," said Astoria, smiling at him. As he steered her away, Dylan came over with two butterbeers in hand, searching for her. When he spotted her, his head drooped slightly as he returned the drinks and tried to find his way out, only to be stopped by Harry.
"Let's take a walk," he muttered. Wrapping an arm around the younger boy's shoulders, Harry led them outside. "You can't stop her from dancing with other boys, you know."
"I wasn't trying to," said Dylan quietly.
"You're scared that Tori would think Draco is better than you," said Harry knowingly.
"Well, he is taller."
"Because he is two years older than you," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "What did you expect? Dylan, you're only twelve. It's not like you are short for your age; far from it, but even if you were, why should that matter at all? You are a good person and you shouldn't let anything else define you. You have come a long way since I met you, so don't go back to square one. You are one of the sweetest boys I have ever met in my life, little brother, and I know that Tori likes you too. Stay calm, mate. It's not like she abandoned you! She was asked to dance when you were not there and she accepted. Daphne is currently dancing with Fred and George, isn't she? It's a ball, it happens."
"Thanks, Harry," said Dylan with a hint of a smile.
"Anytime, brat," said Harry teasingly. "Now come on. Let's get back inside."
"Egghead," muttered Dylan.
"Moron," fired Harry.
"Jackass!"
"Dimwit!"
"Nitwit!"
"Nincompoop!"
"That's the same thing! Wait, is it?"
"Who cares? Brat!"
....
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