A/N: Lyrics from "One by One" by Lesley Gore

One by one
The rules I made are crumbling away
One by one
The walls I built are tumbling away

Slowly, smoothly, my body twists around Susan’s, responding to her every move. I go where she leads me, I give her what she wants from me.

I have let her bring me to the All Hallow’s Eve party at The Leaky Cauldron. The lights are dim and the air is thick. The only thing that seems to exist for me is Susan’s face as we spin about the dance floor, our dress robes sweeping along behind us.

I am hers in body and in soul, and yet I am more my own than I have ever been.

As the final chords of the song fade away, my face falls into a bashful smile.

“What is it?” Susan cocks her head to the side.

“Oh, nothing,” I giggle. “It’s just that I can’t look at you without thinking ‘She’s beautiful, she’s beautiful, she’s beautiful…’”

Susan laughs with me, and I feel the magnetic force of her pull me in for an embrace. My torso is warmed by her arms, my heart is warmed by her lips.

“You’re hopeless,” she whispers.

“Hopeless?” My lips play their now favorite game of mirroring hers.

“Completely,” my lover affirms.

“Well, then…” I say, rocking back and forth to my own beat, “I suppose I wouldn’t be able to get my own drinks.”

Susan lets out a laugh, loud with adoration. “Wait here.”

Left on my own, I sway back and forth, playing with my skirt as I do so. I am so happy and content tonight, both to be here with Susan, and also just to be here as me. The world feels so alive, and every face around me seems to glow with beautiful possibility.

This isn’t just being in love. This is my eyes being opened as I feel the full possibilities of the world around me and, for the first time in my life, choose to fully accept them.

I can see Susan across the bar, ordering our drinks. The bartender is a witch with short black hair, wearing a fitted vest with no other shirt. She is cute in her own way, but nothing compared to Susan. I watch adoringly as my darling throws her head back in laughter.

It occurs to me that Susan must be flirting.

It next occurs to me that this does not bother me.

I take a moment to experience and accept the emotions that come with these observations. My smile does not falter. Susan is so cute when she flirts.

I dance on my own, my arms moving freely and experimentally with the music. My gaze occasionally returns to the bar, but out of curiosity, not jealousy. In time Susan returns to me, and we drink and dance the night away in jubilant frivolity.

As the night winds down, I find myself perched against the wall, leaning on Susan’s shoulder as we watch other lovers dance their own rhythms.

“He looks cute,” I whisper playfully to Susan as my eyes track a tall brunette pushing through the crowd towards the bar.

“Oh my goodness.” My jaw drops, thoroughly impressed. “That’s Neville Longbottom!”

Susan smiles.

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