Dancing lessons

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Harry's POV
"I don't know how to dance." Ron says shyly. It was fourth year and bitch Professor McGonogall assigned me and Ron to teach each other the dance.

We don't have to go to the ball together we just have to practice with each other. "Take my hand." I say. He hesitates at first but then grabs my hand.

"I don't bite." I say smiling. He smiles slightly. "Okay, so put your other hand here." I say while guiding him to my waist .

"And my hand goes here." I put my hand on this neck. I teach him the dance and, surprisingly, he learns it pretty fast.

"Okay we are going to do it one last time like we are at the ball." I say. We go through the dance one last time locked in each other's eyes.

I've never realized how beautiful his blue eyes were and how they shine in the candlelight. his freckled cheeks. How they were lightly scattered across his pale face and his lips, looked so... Kissable.

I feel his body heat on myself. I feel my eyes shut. I feel his lips on mine. I kiss back immediately.

We rest our foreheads together. "Would you perhaps like to go to the ball with me?" I whisper.

"Id love that."

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