Harry Potter

*You sit alone on the corner as everyone dances before you. Maybe Luna was wrong about you coming, it's not like anyone would ask you to dance. You can't dance anyway. You're about to leave when a strong hand grabs yours and pulls you onto the dance floor. You look up to see a handsome, tall and muscular boy with black hair, glasses covering his green eyes, and the famous lighting shaped scar.* Harry: What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone? Just one dance, that's all a poor boy can ask.