They were a striking sight, two handsome boys moving together so effortlessly, steps light and graceful. By the end of the night they’d danced so much Harry’s feet hurt, and he’d met more people than he could keep track of. Stranger after stranger approached him, eager to meet the time traveling Potter, and Harry – never the most social – passed off the bulk of the conversational duties to Riddle, who was more than happy to charm their arses off between whirling Harry around the dance floor.