Hello Reader! This is a one-shot that is dedicated to Colubrina and ShayaLonnie, who are both so encouraging to other writers.

Harry was ready to set the giant ice sculpture on the banquet table on fire if it would just get him out of here. Normally he would actually have one of the Weasleys' firecrackers in a pocket of his robes, but Hermione had insisted that he needed to look respectable in new, tailored, bloody expensive clothes. This was the downside to her dating that ferret. The upside, of course, being that she was head-over-heels in love.

He watched them twirl on the dance floor, platinum blond and bushy amber hair drawing more than his eyes in the crowded hall.

Pansy was bored. Draco had promised her something more interesting than watching him dance with his girlfriend all night. Technically, he hadn't promised anything, since he was a Slytherin through and through, but they both knew the terms of this arrangement. She would show up for several neverending hours, schmooze a few people that either Draco or Hermione wanted on their side of whatever political argument was popular today, and she would get mediocre food, a new ensemble from a shop of her choosing, and companionship for the night with someone with whom she hadn't spent seven miserable years at Hogwarts. Thus far the pickings for item three were seriously lacking.

"Harry!" His eyes lifted and all thoughts of escape were dashed as Molly Weasley approached with a couple of girls in tow. "I'm so glad I saw you there! Here are a couple lovely young ladies who were just dying to meet THE Harry Potter!" Molly beamed widely and introduced the twittering girls.

At the time, he had been so relieved that she'd taken his breakup with Ginny well. Now, he almost wished she'd thrown him out and promised to never speak to him again. Apparently it just wasn't acceptable for a War Hero and Savior Of The Wizarding World to be a single young man enjoying his freedom and lack of responsibilities. So in between chivvying him towards politics, the DMLE, and writing his memoirs, Molly liked to subtly point out the various beautiful witches who would love to date The Chosen One.

"Er, yeah, Molly. Thanks." he tuned back in to her asking about the latest book she'd sent him. How to Write YOUR STORY had actually reminded him strongly of detentions with Lockhart, but she didn't need to know that.

"Well, I shouldn't take up all your time tonight! Why don't you take a spin on the dance floor?" Oh, God. She was winking at him. Harry's eyes quickly darted around for any trapdoor out of this.

He quickly grabbed the arm of the woman walking past him, "Actually, I promised the next dance to Pansy here, but it was so great to chat!" And he whisked them away.

After a predatory grin at the Weasley matriarch, because why not needle the country bumpkins whenever possible, Pansy turned her attention to the imbecile who had just manhandled her. "Potter, you may not know this, having never come out into civilized society before, but usually we adults like to ask a person if they want to dance, and then wait courteously for their answer before we tear their arm out of its socket." She quirked an eyebrow.

Harry sighed. Talking to Slytherins was always more work than it was worth. "Let's pretend that was some sort of question instead of a judgement on basically my life and worth as a person."

"Also your bloodline and House and friends, but fine."

"Yeah, and that." he rolled his eyes. "I needed an out from that conversation and the two fangirls who wanted to mob me. You were closest." He shrugged, "Sorry if it was unexpected."

After a pause she asked, "So, what do I get out of it?"

He snorted. "I thought you Slytherins were supposed to be subtle?"

"With each other and those who have the wit to keep up."

"Wow, I'm wounded, Pansy, seriously."

She just sniffed in the ladylike way that had put boys in their places for years. His answering grin wasn't quite what she was used to, but then she didn't spend a lot of time with Gryffindor Heroes. And now that she took a moment to notice, his dancing was infinitely better than she had expected from a boy who had basically been a muggle half his life and had spent most of the rest of it as a soldier for the Headmaster.

"See, I'm not a complete Neanderthal."

She almost blushed realizing he'd noticed her watching him. "I'm quite impressed, Mr. Potter."

"Well, I've had to go to about five hundred more balls in the past few years than I would have hoped to. And after the first one I realized that I didn't enjoy feeling like a scruffy fourth year at the Yule Ball again. So I took lessons and made Hermione and Ginny and Luna and occasionally Cho practice with me."

"You made your ex-girlfriend's girlfriend, who is also your ex-girlfriend, practice ballroom dance with you?"

He shrugged again, "Yeah, she's really graceful."

"Your life is not normal, do you know that?"

Harry burst out laughing. It was almost too loud to be considered polite at such a public function, but considering how good it felt to be pulled a little tighter against his surprisingly muscular form, and how his eyes crinkled up when he really smiled, Pansy decided to let it go.

Hermione heard Harry's laugh boom out. "How's it going? Do you think it worked? Does she look happy? Oh, I just know this is perfect!"

Draco smiled down at his newly-made but not-yet-announced fiancée, "Calm down, love. She looks more comfortable than I've ever seen her at one of these functions. And clearly the whole room can tell how much he's enjoying her company." by the end the smile had turned into a smirk.

Whacking him lightly on the arm as they continued to dance in each other's arms, Hermione tried to catch sight of the other couple.

"Relax." Draco softly told her, "It's going even better than we hoped." He kissed her forehead gently. "Now you just have to leave them alone for long enough to realize on their own that they are perfect for each other."

As the song ended, the two decided it was time for them to wander over to the refreshments. Not long after Hermione mentioned to a friend or two that she had a slight headache, and Draco offered to take her home. She cast one last look over to the dance floor that Harry and Pansy had occupied for longer than was strictly proper.

"Yes, let's go home." she replied to Draco. "I think our work here is done."