Apparently, Harry and Draco can dance! You can decide which is which. I actually don’t even think of them when I read it, but it works…

I’d rather not say who I think about…It’s a little…strange.

Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter. Obviously, I mean, I’m a teenager in the US, who else could it be except…maybe the author? No, that would be ridiculous!

But yeah, I own Harry Potter. I keep Daniel Radcliffe in the backyard, I lost Emma Watson a week ago, thank God, she had fleas. Never have an indoor hostage, Daniel is very content in the yard, buries things mostly, and eats grass. Ralph Fiennes is in the garage, he’s the only one who can’t go out-front, he loses it when cars drive by. I swear I need a hostage trainer, I used a hostage whisperer but I don’t think it worked, Alan Rickman only got more upset, (he chews the cushions on the armchairs) and DON’T get my started on Gary Oldman’s humping problem, God, my poor pillows, and poor Jason Isaac he’s the runt and Robbie Coltrane is always eating his food and barking at him…But if anyone knows a good hostage trainer please tell me!

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It was a slow beat, slowing drumming up to a crescendo, when he sent him flying out, gracefully, and then twirling back to his embrace. They faced one another and mirrored one another’s fluid, quick, and heated movements. They were fighting fiercely over dominance. Their eyes locked, and emotions swirled, crashed, and battled. The mirrors shone in the moonlight as they moved swiftly across the floor. He would quickly turn to him and felt his arms snake around him. They would rapidly follow the rolling beats, swiftly gathering pace and speed.

Suddenly he flung him to the floor. He turned gracefully, and landed on his knees, in front of him. He stalked up to him, and crept around him. He could only watch in anger and lust as he prowled around him in victory. His anger swelled, he jumped up, and started to follow the brisk beat with turns and kicks and foot work. He followed, copying and adding his own splendorous turns, and smooth transitions. Their eyes were still locked, battling.

They slowly made there way across the room to one another, and the song quickly died.

Slowly, the sweet harmonies came in, and it was a slow, grinding, aching beat.

He stopped, breathing heavily, and staring as he stalked up to him. His eyes never came off him.

He made his way to his arms, and filled the space between them. They were quiet as they moved across the floor, barely making a noise. They made slow turns, elegant dips and turns. Each time, he always fell back into his arms more tenderly, and held on longer.

Now the moonlight shone in one glowing shaft of light in the middle of the polished floor. They slowly passed through, flooded in the moonlight, they glowed themselves. As they moved his heart started to skip every time he pulled him that way, and moved him that way. He gave no emotion to him, and he didn’t give any back. He dipped him, and flushed him out into the moonlight, still yearning for dominance. But, they began to just move slowly, in one solitary place on the practiced floors. Finally in the dying notes, he closed his eyes, and felt his breath, just inches away. He felt his heart beat, in rhythm with his.

His eyes fluttered open. He gave up the fight for dominance, and just moved with him in the moonlight, and set his head on his chest. He became stiff for a moment, but, suddenly, he relaxed, and he held him so close he couldn’t tell where he began, and where he ended. They wavered in the moonlight. Suddenly, it seemed fog began to creep in as they pushed against one another, and they pulled, and tugged, and yearned.

He couldn’t take it, and he just looked at him, and filled the space between them. They embraced, and he only fell deeper into the embrace. The fog swirled around them, in its own dance of passion, like the one they had just committed. He felt the swaying stop, and the light faltered.

He opened his eyes and he was in the moonlight. The fog finally set, and he never remembered what happened next. He only felt lingers of the anger, and lust. And, some pain in his heart that never went away, and burned whenever he saw him.

And at night as he moved swiftly around the dance floor, by himself, he could feel that lonely fog creep in, and he drifted back to that night…