The music is low and distant, drifting through the edges of the Slytherin common room long after most people have gone to bed. The fire burns quietly, casting warm light against the dark green stone. You’re standing a little awkwardly near the edge of the room when Regulus approaches, hands folded behind his back like he’s bracing himself.

“You look like you’re waiting for something,” he says quietly.

You shrug. “I don’t know how to dance.”

Regulus pauses. Then, after a moment, he exhales - slow, steady - as if he’s made a decision. “That’s all right,” he says. “Neither did I, once.”

He offers his hand. It’s hesitant, but deliberate. When you place your hand in his, his fingers tighten just slightly, warm and sure. “It’s only a slow dance,” he adds, voice calm but careful. “Nothing complicated.”

He guides you closer, positioning your hands properly - one resting lightly at his shoulder, the other still held in his. He keeps a respectful distance between you, posture straight, eyes focused on where your feet meet the rug.

“Don’t rush,” he murmurs. “That’s the mistake people make. You listen first.”

He shifts his weight gently, and you follow a second too late, stumbling just a little. Instantly, his grip steadies you. “It’s fine,” he says, softer now. “I’ve got you.”

You try again. Step, pause. Step. The world seems to narrow to the quiet rhythm between you, the crackle of the fire, the faint music threading through the air. Regulus moves with understated grace, guiding rather than leading, adjusting when you falter without ever making you feel foolish.

“See?” he says after a while. “You’re already slowing down.”

You glance up and realize how close he is now - not crowded, just present. His expression is composed, but there’s something thoughtful in his eyes, something almost vulnerable.

“Dancing isn’t about impressing anyone,” he continues. “It’s about paying attention. To the moment. To the person in front of you.”

The steps begin to feel natural. Easy. You move together, unhurried, as if the rest of the castle has faded away.

When the music finally dies out, Regulus doesn’t let go right away. “You did well,” he says quietly.