Hogwarts Ball - Arrivals

[fi_admin]

Date: Saturday, 03 March, 2001
Time: 5:00pm
Location: Hogwarts
Rating: PG
Characters Involved: Anyone who wishes to attend

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[birdwotcher]

Tonks had just decided to brave the length of the hall, where she fully intended on taking advantage of whatever alcoholic beverage they were serving, when she heard an all-too-familiar voice. Not that she was complaining, really; at this point, even bad company was at least company. Then again, whether or not Severus Snape could be considered 'bad company' was really just a matter of opinion, she reminded herself. And how grumpy he was on that particular day.

She smiled in response to his comment. They were off to a fantastic start. "And you seem to have found it for me," she quipped. "Really, do you have to wear so many layers? Or is the stick up your arse so big that it needs the support?"

She turned to fully face him so he could properly see the front of her ensemble as well, since he seemed to be giving her outfit a once-over anyway. "Although for you, it works. It's nice to see you in a colour other than black." Which was most likely the best compliment he was going to get out of her for the rest of the evening.

She looked down at her shoes, as if contemplating what he was saying. "Do you really think so?" she said. "I gave myself fifteen minutes at the most, so thank you for your optimism. It's good to know that at least someone out there believes I'm not nearly the klutz I really am."

Straightening up again, she offered him another smile. "So then. How have you been, Severus? You look better than usual, I dare say."

[subtle_simmer]

"It is called 'decorum' and 'modesty', girl. Two terms of which you are clearly ignorant," he replied dryly. He was equally unimpressed with the front of the dress, though it did, thankfully, offer slightly more concealment than the back.

"So I've been told," he admitted, glancing about the room and spotting Molly Weasley. He would have to make a point to stop and speak with her, since it had been she, so many months ago, who had told him to stop dressing like a... "Someone suggested to me that I ought to stop dressing like a Vicar.

"My estimate of an hour was more a compliment to your intelligence than your ability to stay on your feet - I assumed someone capable of becoming an Auror would know when prudence was the better part of valor and remain seated as long as possible. Then again, you were a Gryffindor, so this is likely another concept which escapes you."

He arched a brow at her back-handed compliment, and his lips curled into a smirk which was just a titch nasty. What he wouldn't give to tell her that he and Remus were 'together', just to watch the look of horror on her face! It was just a passing impulse - he would leave that revelation to Remus, if he chose it.

It was impossible for him to see the changes in himself, which had been gradually occurring over the last twelve months. The truth of the matter was that he was more relaxed and content than he could ever recall being in his life. This was not only due to Remus, though he was a large part of it. The simple reality of honest freedom - despite the collar at his neck - and a houseful of individuals who had become more 'family' to him than his real family had ever been, had altered him more than he realised.

He was still sarcastic and grumpy and all the rest - but he no longer wore the perpetual scowl for no reason at all. Nor did he actively start each day dwelling on all the miseries of his life.

"Thank you," he said sardonically. "I must admit to being 'better than usual', so there you are.

"If you plan to brave the dance-floor in those ridiculous shoes, perhaps you will deign to grace me with your presence during a dance."

It would be at least one dance in which she could not be prowling about after Remus!

[birdwotcher]

The corner of Tonks' lips twitched upwards slightly in an amused sort of half-smile. "No one has ever accused me of being modest, and decorum is a matter of opinion, when you think about it. Nothing inappropriate is showing. I'm not really even displaying any sort of cleavage. It's black, which is the epitome of decorum, and unless you're afraid of a little leg, then really, you can't imply I've dressed to be anything but just another member of the crowd. And," she added, "I'm completely natural today. If that isn't modest, then I don't know what is."

She couldn't help but smile a little wider at his admittance. "Whoever had the good sense to tell you that should give themselves a firm pat on the back. It wouldn't be all that difficult for you to look just a tiny bit more comfortable in your environment, really. It makes all the difference as to your approachability." Which, she figured, he was trying to manipulate anyhow. But regardless.

"I'm here on the unofficial business of making sure no one blows up the place, so sitting down for the entire evening is unfortunately completely out of the question, and believe me when I say I would love the opportunity to do so." For now, however, she'd suffer. "Besides, I hadn't realised when I bought the bloody dress that when I do sit down, it shows a little more than it ought to, so I'm doing it for the sake of decorum, if nothing else."

Twirling a lock of hair around her finger, she glanced over Severus' shoulder at a couple that'd just entered before returning her gaze to him. "Well, good. You deserve to be better than usual. I think we all do, at this point." Although deserving and having were two completely different things, she reminded herself bitterly before forcing the thought out of her mind. While everyone else seemed to be moving on with their lives to places they could've only dreamt about before the end of the war, she was stuck. Stuck in the same job, with the same flat and goldfish and daily routine. The only major thing that had changed in her life, really, had been the loss of a three-year relationship, and that hardly changed anything for the better, although she doubted she'd feel much different about everything if they'd stuck it out.

So there she had it. Stuck. Going nowhere fast, and with her only potentially positive turning point now in Romania for Merlin only knew how long. Not that she was dependent on romantic relationships. But still. It was nice not to be alone. She was used to it now, but given the choice, she rather thought she'd prefer to be part of something instead of just herself, standing alone in the Great Hall, nursing a glass of alcohol the entire evening. And hopefully that wasn't how it'd turn out.

Genuinely surprised at his offer, she considered it for a moment before saying, "You haven't, by any chance, suddenly stopped taking any anti-depressant medication in the past few days, have you?" she quipped in a sort of self-depricating way. "Dancing with me is like dancing in a pit of cobras. There will be pain, and probably lots of it. And it's questionable whether or not you'll walk away from it alive.

"But," she added, "if you insist--and feel no obligation to do so, because I suppose it's not your fault you didn't know any better than to not ask me--then yes, I'd love to. If I haven't broken my ankles by then, that is."

[subtle_simmer]

'Approachable' was not the look he was going for, but he supposed it was better than his usual.

"Don't be ridiculous - I do not meddle in Muggle remedies," he replied with a snort. "If I had become suicidal, I know a plethora of effective techniques which would not involve breaking my neck or ruining the shine of my shoes.

"As for pain and danger, I've had my share of both. I'll risk it. I am not afraid of you. I am however, rather intimidated by Minerva, who would be seriously annoyed with me if I was not making good-show at being sociable this evening, so there you are. We will dance, later."

[birdwotcher]

"Well then," Tonks said with a slight inclination of her head. "I'd hate to see you lose your good standing with Minerva, so by all means, do look me up later for a dance. We wouldn't want you looking antisocial, after all."

Shifting from one foot to the other in an attempt to relieve the pain in her insteps and toes, she tugged nervously on the same lock of hair she'd been twirling. She wasn't anxious about anything in particular, merely how the night would go. It'd be lovely to see her favourite band perform, but if the only conversation she was going to have was with Severus, well, then perhaps next time she'd have to wear the pink dress, if only to get noticed for the sake of a little interaction.