Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
꧁—— ❦ ——꧂
PRIVET DRIVE, JULY 27 LITTLE WHINGING 1994
"The left, Harry, the left!"
"It's the same bloody thing!"
"I'd say it really isn't."
"My left, your left. Does it really matter?"
"When I say left and you go to the right, who do you reckon is suffering the consequences of your ungodly actions?"
"Ungodly actions? I'm trying my best!"
"My bruised toes aren't really agreeing with you."
"Well, that's just unfair."
"You and those bloody steel toes of yours."
"Okay, so like this then — "
"Ouch! Alright, I reckon we need to take a break."
"Vin, I can figure this out." Harry pleaded, an almost bruising grip on her waist, "Just... one more go. Please?"
This had been a disaster, and good god, did she ever want to tell him no, to tell him that perhaps he wasn't the best at ballroom dancing and that it was okay. She didn't need him to be the best at ballroom dancing, not when he was the best in every other aspect of himself. He had started off so strong that she'd had full faith in his abilities, but it seemed that the concept of going to the left had caused all hell to break loose. She said left and he went right, he stepped on her feet and apologized, and she'd say it was fine. He adjusted his grip on her waist, she tightened her hold on his hand, and they'd start over from the beginning. He was doing so well, and then she'd tell him to go left, he went right, and violently crushed her toes; in truth it was starting to get exhausting, and her feet were throbbing with pain; but when he tightened his grip on her waist and the cold shot throughout her body with such intensity, rattling her bones so hard she was certain they were rearranging inside of her to escape the chill, and those fucking doe eyes he gave ( and without a doubt he'd learned them from her ) what kind of person would she be to kick a puppy when it was already down?
"Alright, alright. We'll have one more go and then we will take a break, got it?" Lavinia said, absolute in having no room for argument.
"Understood." Harry grinned, and that fucking grin.
That stupid, alluring fucking grin, and the intensity of his eyes bore straight through her soul, melted her until she was putty in his stupid fucking hands. And if he asked her to dance until she lost all feeling in her feet, she'd do so without a second thought.
