The Noctis Codex | DRARRY

FIFTEEN

The next afternoon, students crowded into the Great Hall, which had been transformed into a makeshift ballroom. The tables had been moved aside, leaving a wide, empty space for their first dance lesson. At the front of the hall, a record player sat on a table beside Professor McGonagall, who stood with her usual stern expression, her wand tucked into her robe.

Harry entered with Ron and Hermione, who looked excited despite Ron's grumbling about how "having to do this again was bloody ridiculous".

"Everyone, form two lines!" McGonagall's voice rang out over the noise. "Make sure there's enough space to move freely." Students shuffled into place, and Harry found himself glancing over at the Slytherins. Across the room, Draco was positioning himself with his usual confidence, though the dark-haired noticed a flicker of tension in his posture.

Once the students were arranged, the headmistress surveyed them with a critical eye. "The first line will step forward and partner with the person directly in front of them," she explained, "but after every few minutes, I'll have the first line move one space to the right, so you'll each have a chance to dance with multiple partners. That way, no one gets too comfortable," she added with a pointed look, causing several students to chuckle nervously.

The record player crackled to life, filling the room with a waltz. McGonagall demonstrated a few basic steps, then stepped back to observe as students awkwardly took each other's hands and wrapped their fingers around waists, beginning to move to the music.

Harry found himself partnered with Hermione first, who gave him an encouraging smile as they shuffled into position. "Relax, Harry," she murmured as he stumbled slightly. "It's just a dance."

He chuckled nervously, trying to keep his focus on the steps and not on the Slytherins at the other end of the room. After a few minutes, McGonagall clapped her hands. "First line, step to the right!"

The students reshuffled, and Harry found himself now paired with Parvati, who had an easy laugh and led him through a few spins. They barely had time to settle into the rhythm before the woman called for another rotation. With each switch, Harry grew a bit more comfortable, his steps becoming more confident than at the Yule ball.

Then, after a few rotations, Harry found himself face-to-face with Draco. His heart skipped a beat, his hand hovering in the air before he forced himself to extend it. The blond's expression was unreadable, his usual cool mask firmly in place as he took Harry's hand, but the Gryffindor noticed a faint tension in his grip.

"Potter," Draco greeted him, his voice low. There was no sarcasm, no sneer—just the briefest flicker of something Harry couldn't quite place.

"Malfoy," he replied, trying to keep his own voice steady. The feel of Draco's hand in his was somehow both familiar and unsettling, like stepping into something he hadn't realized he'd been missing. The blond's other hand on his waist, however, caused a shiver to run up his spine.

They began to move to the music, their steps surprisingly in sync. The noise of the room faded slightly, and for a moment, it felt as if the rest of the world had blurred away, leaving only the two of them. Harry was aware of the heat radiating from Draco, of the tension in his frame, as if he were holding something back.

"So..." Draco's voice broke through the silence, but he seemed to hesitate, his gaze flickering briefly to Harry's face. "You're not... terrible at this."

A laughed almost escaped the dark-haired man, caught off guard by the rare, almost-compliment. "Well, you're not completely insufferable either," he replied with a smirk, though his voice softened as he spoke.

Draco's lips quirked in a faint smile, his eyes meeting Harry's with something close to challenge—and perhaps something else, something softer. Before either could say another word, McGonagall clapped her hands again.