“I can’t take this anymore,” Suho whispers to Luhan, who glances at him in surprise.

“Take what?” Luhan asks, frowning. Suho has been acting weird since Lay was called out to the dance floor with Sehun.

“That,” Suho moans, gesturing to the couple in the middle of the hall. 

Luhan glances at Lay and Sehun, and then back at Suho. And he finally gets it.

“Oh,” Luhan says.

“What do you mean, “Oh”?” Suho asks, for once seeming to be angry. It’s an emotion he doesn’t wear that often.

“I mean, if it bothers you, go do something about it,” Luhan says mischievously.

Suho seems to ponder this for a moment.

“I can’t just go out there,” he says, still watching Lay and Sehun, who are holding each other awkwardly.

Professor McGonagall is now saying something about how, “the eyes hold the strongest connection”, and Luhan hears Kai shout out something about “Bambi”. He groans low in his throat, reminding himself to kill Kai later.

And then Professor McGonagall is urging Lay to hold Sehun’s waist a little lower, and Lay is saying something, and then Sehun steps on Lay’s foot. Hard.

Luhan winces. 

Suho is having a conversation with himself. “To go or not to go...”

But he stops talking when Lay hauls Sehun closer. 

Luhan’s mouth drops open.

Suho freezes.

And then...

“Woah, they’re really close now, aren’t they?”

Suho snaps.

As soon as Professor McGongall turns around to walk over to the record player, Suho is moving through the crowd, but not in the direction Luhan expected.

Suho pushes his way through the other students, trying to get over to the Gryffindors. 

He has a plan.

“Hey.”

Chanyeol pokes Baekhyun in the ribs. No response.

“Hey.”

Another poke. Still no response.

“Hey!” 

Chanyeol grabs Baekhyun around the waist, shaking him back and forth.

“Yah Park Chanyeol!” Baekhyun finally shouts, his head spinning. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted to get Butterbeer in the kitchens after this,” Chanyeol says, pouting.

Baekhyun waves his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll get some. Now stop talking so I can watch the dance.” He clasps his hands together, eyes shining as he watches Professor McGongall stride over to the record player.

Chanyeol scoffs. “I didn’t realize you were so obsessed with waltzing. It’s just a bunch of spinning,” he mutters.

Suddenly, Baekhyun is turning to him, eyes blazing.    

“Spinning?” Baekhyun asks incredulously, his voice dangerously soft. “Did you just say that the waltz is just a bunch of spinning?”

“Ermmm, I mean, I didn’t-,” Chanyeol stutters. He pauses for a second, thinking about his answer before saying, “No?”

Baekhyun takes a step forward, the top of his head barely coming to Chanyeol’s chin. But that doesn’t stop him from lifting one hand and jabbing a finger into Chanyeol’s chest.

“Now you listen hear Park Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says, deadly serious. “The waltz is a beautiful work of art. Not just spinning. The waltz is a dance full of elegance and barely contained passion and breathtaking lifts. It. Is. A. Masterpiece.”

Chanyeol’s eyes are as wide as saucers as his friend continues moving forward, pushing him back with his finger still digging into Chanyeol’s shirt. Luckily, they had found a place near the back of the Great Hall, so they’re not pushing through a crowd of students. But an audience is the last thing Chanyeol is worried about right now.

“Sometimes humans can’t communicate through words alone,” Baekhyun continues, his voice rising with anger. He looks slightly maniacal if you ask Chanyeol. “We must learn to communicate through the art of DANCE.” The last word is almost a shout.

Chanyeol holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry,” he pleads. “I didn’t mean it. I was being stupid, I swear. Don’t eat me.” The last sentence comes out as a whisper from Chanyeol’s mouth.

Chanyeol squeezes his eyes shut as Baekhyun moves even closer, preparing to become Baekhyun’s next meal.

“I probably taste delicious,” is all Chanyeol has time to think before...

“HA!”

Chanyeol lets loose a high-pitched scream, flailing backwards, his eyes opening to see...

Baekhyun laughing uncontrollably?

“You should have seen, hahaha, your face, ahahaha,” Baekhyun gasps, holding his stomach as laughter wracks his tiny frame. He straightens up long enough to put on a straight face. “We must communicate through the art of dance,” he imitates himself seriously, before dissolving into laughter again. 

Chanyeol lets his hands fall to his sides, watching Baekhyun in disbelief. 

“But you said, you said,” Chanyeol stammers out, “that the waltz was a masterpiece.”

Baekhyun laughs harder, crying now.

“I was only joking,” he manages to wheeze out between laughs, and Chanyeol feels his own mouth quirk up at the edges as he watches his best friend.

“Your face was like,” Baekhyun says, imitating Chanyeol’s previous expression with his eyes going as wide as possible and his mouth hanging open before he loses it again.

“And, don’t eat me?” Baekhyun chokes out, wiping a stray tear away. “Why the hell would I eat you?”

Chanyeol shrugs defensively. “I don’t know,” he says, slightly offended. “Maybe because you’d want to?”

Baekhyun stops laughing.

The two stare at each other for a second.

“That’s ridiculous,” Baekhyun finally says, and Chanyeol frowns.

“Why? Am I not tasty enough for the high and mighty Byun Baekhyun? Am I not delicious?!” he asks.

“Ummm, no, you’re not. Also, I don’t eat humans.”

“Well that’s stupid.”

“Which part?! That you’re not tasty enough, or that I’m not a cannibal?”

“Both.”

The two are interrupted in the midst of their highly stupid interesting debate by another angry voice.

“Hey, Chanyeol, Baekhyun, I need your help.”

“I say we run on the count of three,” Lay says to Sehun, the two still in their awkward position.

“What? No! Are you crazy? Do you think Professor McGonagall is going to just let us sprint out of here?” Sehun asks, glancing over at said professor, who seems to be having some trouble with the record player. All of the other teachers had left Professor McGonagall in charge, and now she is bent over the non-functioning record player, muttering complaints.

“We could hide,” Lay offers, scrambling to think of good hiding places where two boys could possibly camp out for the next two weeks night.

“Oh yeah,” Sehun says, “that would go over really well.” He raises his voice in an imitation of Professor McGonagall. “Where have Mr. Zhang and Mr. Oh gone to? Why haven’t they been to class? They do know that when they decide to show their miserable faces, they are going to be serving detention for a month to make up for their abandoned dance lesson.”

Lay watches as Sehun begins to become a little more hysterical, his voice rising.

“And then Kai would be like,” Sehun continuing, changing his