Ballet Flats and Ballroom Floors

Scorpius/Dominique

Balls that involve dancing are not Dominique Weasley's forte.

But she's stuck there anyway, hair piled in a bun on top of her head with two strands falling down into her eyes (which annoys her). Not to mention she's wearing a pink dress. Pink. If there's one thing that Dominique Weasley absolutely loathes, it's the colour pink. Her favourite colour is silver, and not just because she's a Slytherin. She also thinks that it's wonderfully shiny and just an amazing colour overall.

Not to mention it's the colour of Scorpius Malfoy's eyes, silvery grey.

Her eyes travel across the hall to meet his, and she gives him a smirk. It's insane that she should love someone like him- he's Slytherin, annoying, and a bit evil, but that doesn't mean that she stops loving him.

Besides, sometimes insanity is good, anyway.

He walks over to her, flipping his blonde hair like he's some Muggle boy singer or something. With a grin at her, he says, "Nice dress there, Weasley. You're wearing pink dresses now, then?"

"Oh, shut up, Mr. Bow Tie," She rolls her eyes, pinching the edge of his polka-dotted bow tie between her slender fingers which are polished a daring sparkly silver (the only part of her outfit that she likes). "My mum forced me. She has an unhealthy obsession with pink things, in my opinion."

"And you've got an unhealthy obsession with me," He reminds her in that cocky way of his.

"I do not, idiot," She replies with a frown at him.

"You know I'm just kidding you, Weasley darling," He ruffles her hair that's already fallen out of her bun, and she jerks away, hissing at him that he's going to mess up her hair even more. He grins, and with a pale white hand, carefully puts the strands back into place, his skin brushing hers in a light way that makes her heart skip a beat.

"You better be," She informs him. "I'm a Slytherin; I'm quite good at revenge plots."

"And I wonder why you're a Slytherin every day," He laughs heartily before his voice quiets a little bit. "Look, Dom, I didn't come over here just to annoy you, though I thoroughly enjoy every second of it. I came over here to ask you if you wanted to dance with me."

His silver eyes seem to smolder over and oh my gosh, she's never seen anything so beautiful.

Finally, she nods, because it's far too hard for her to resist. With a small smile, she says, "Of course I'll dance with you… Malfoy."

Laughing, he offers her his hand, and together they dance out to the floor. Dominique can almost feel the eye of every single other Weasley glued on her, but she doesn't care as he wraps his arm around her, drawing her closer. "You don't wear high heels, then? Like all of the other girls here?"

She giggles and glances down. The truth is, she's only 5'3" and rather short, but she can't stand heels- they hurt her feet and she's always falling over. "I'm not really the heel type of girl, Scorpius."

"Are you not?" He asks absentmindedly. Grinning at her, he tells her, "I wouldn't have noticed. But I like your ballet flats, anyway. They make you look… graceful."

"I wouldn't have thought you the type to notice something like that," She says, her voice taking on a superior and rather cutting edge. "And thank you."

"You find me unobservant, then?" He wonders, spinning her around and giving her another of his famous smoldering glances, batting his eyelashes- and she wonders if it's even a conscious move.

"Unobservant and a bit weird, really," She confesses, smirking again at him. "I mean, no ordinary boy would wear a polka-dotted bow tie to a fancy ball. And no ordinary Malfoy would ask a Weasley to dance, right?"

"No ordinary Weasley would be sorted into Slytherin," He contradicts with a cocky smile.

She shrugs, and with a wink, she informs him, "Well, Malfoy, looks like we're one big mess of contradictions then, aren't we? The insane Malfoy and the Weasley, who would've known?"

"I suppose we are; it's utter absurdity," He whispers, pulling her so close that she can feel his breath fanning out over her face. Absently, she wonders if he's going to finally kiss her, and then she'll finally get that happy ending that Lucy's been talking about-

But then he pulls away with a smile, muttering something about substance- maybe that their relationship doesn't have enough substance, because it doesn't- and he walks away, leaving her just to stare after him.

As he walks away, she realises that really, it was just her imagination running away with her. He doesn't care for her at all, really, that way.

So she's left to dance alone in her black ballet flats.

A/N: ScorpiusDominique drabble for Tenzy. Hope you like it =)

REVIEW, GUYS. Or I'll have to go all crazy on you. ;)