Hogwarts Ball - Concert and Dancing
Date: Saturday, 03 March, 2001
Time: 7:00pm
Location: Hogwarts
Rating: PG
Characters Involved: Anyone who wishes to attend
( And the band played on… )
Time: 7:00pm
Location: Hogwarts
Rating: PG
Characters Involved: Anyone who wishes to attend
( And the band played on… )
"And now," he continued, settling as per usual at the edge of the stage, legs dangling downards, "our next song." Myron paused, before looking up at the hidden someone in the middle of the audience. Someone beautiful, far too beautiful- like a sad angel he did not really deserve. As their gazes locked, Myron smiled almost shyly and closed his eyes for a few moments. "I dedicate this song to you, my dear friend," he then said, before starting.
"The room is cold ( ... )
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Her hands nearly flew to her hips, like she had seen her mother do so many times. When ever someone received a lecture, Molly Weasley's hands flew to their hips. Ginny couldn't help connecting the two actions.
But she thought better of it (just in time!) and realized that Severus would probably never be okay with Harry, and she should expect comments like this. After all, you couldn't teach a new dog old tricks, could you?
Shaking her head, she answered, "Harry doesn't control me, Professor. As such, I don't see the harm in a dance; you're not likely to try and pick me up, now are you?"
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"Hardly," he agreed sardonically, offering his arm and leading the way to the dance floor. It then occurred to him that his ready acquiescence might come off as an insult, so he attempted to back-track, and quickly.
"Not that you aren't a perfectly attractive and intelligent young woman. You just happen to be far too young, have too many older-brothers with whom I would not care to do battle, and I have enough issues with Our Saviour without adding stealing his girlfriend to the lot."
Besides which, she was completely not his 'type', even though he'd never known he had a 'type' until recently. His eyes scanned the crowd over her head, searching for a familiar mane of sandy-brown hair without success.
He turned to face her and collected her hand. The music wasn't well-suited for the very formal style of dancing he had been taught, but he had enough innate grace and sense of rhythm to be able to adapt his steps to the beat of the song.
"Are you enjoying yourself this evening?"
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She nodded to his question. "Yes, have you heard Hermione's brought a date?" It was a random description of her night, and it wasn't any way to judge the event from her perspective by. But it was what she had been discussing earlier when Severus interrupted, so it was fresh on her mind. "It surprised me. I honestly thought she and Ron were, well... Ready."
It occurred to her that she was gossiping with Severus Snape, and she didn't imagine he would be thrilled by that. Her cheeks twinged a bit, embarrassed that she had done as much, and ( ... )
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He was rather proud of himself that he remembered to use her given name, rather than the formal 'Miss Granger'.
Severus was not much in a mood to be on his 'good behaviour'. Not after his encounter with Nymphadora! He'd finally managed to spot Remus in the crowd, also dancing with various partners as the Headmistress would doubtlessly be encouraging him to do, but Severus had not spoken with him yet, himself. He didn't feel his temper was sufficiently cooled to open the discussion with a tolerable level of disinterest.
So, instead, he stewed. An irritable Snape was not much of a fun dancing partner, but there it was.
"Well. I am pleased to hear you are enjoying yourself. My evening has not been at all satisfactory," he said sourly. "If not for your charming personality, I'm quite certain I would have found some dark corner in which to sulk ( ... )
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As it happened, when she spoke, she completely stepped past the comment in question and focused on the bit before that.
"You've been promised an introduction? I hardly get to know his name! You'll have to take notes for me. It's my duty as the best friend to make sure Hermione's with someone good enough for her." Ginny did laugh at the idea of Severus reporting to her, more so at him giving a detailed description of the bloke. It was too funny to imagine him gossiping like a sixth year school girl. Over tea, perhaps. Too funny indeedShe glanced in the direction of his nod, spotting her other 'best' friend Tonks. Her smile brightened into a full on giggle, which seemed damn near impossible to ( ... )
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"Did I say promised? My apologies, I misspoke." Unsurprising, considering his distraction by half-dressed Nymphadora Tonks and his fury with Remus Lupin! "She introduced me to the young man after our dance. Do you know the woman who runs the bookshop in Diagon Alley? The shop with the French name - Tressoure Litterare or something like that?"
His pronunciation was horrid.
"The woman is a friend of your sister-in-law, I believe. At any rate, the young man is her brother. Conall Aurelius, that bloke, over there, wearing the Muggle suit."
Shifting them about on the dance floor, he tilted his jaw to indicate the gentleman in question.
"As to that woman, you are more than welcome to marry her off to any of your brothers who will have her. The sooner the better."
He sneered in Nymphadora's direction again, before returning his gaze to Ginevra.
"YOU manage to find a dress which is both elegant and feminine, without making you look like ( ... )
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"Bill?" she said, touching his shoulder in an attempt to get his attention.
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"How are you, My Dear Tonks?" He grinned, kissing the back of her hand that he still held in his own.
"You're looking ravishing, quite a shame my considerably less attractive brother is absent." He looked down at her heels before he raised her eyebrow at her.
"Nice shoes."
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She grinned in return. "A little sore and unstable, but otherwise decent. And you, love? How goes the the eldest Weasley son? Breaking heart and taking names, I hope."
Inclining her head slightly, she smirked. "Your brother doesn't seem to think it's worth coming home to take some wench to a ball when she can't even dance properly," she said, amused as she smoothed her dress. "You're not looking too badly yourself. Dancing and frolicking must agree with you."
Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she said, "Tell me about it. I've lost count of how many times I've lost my balance tonight."
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Feeling her cheeks colour, she never the less took a moment to pose for his roaming eyes. "You'd best be looking at the dress and not my arse," she warned. "Because it is actually my arse tonight, and I'm rather self-conscious about anyone taking a close look at it ( ... )
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She laughed. "You're not allowed to look. You're married. And I do not like it," she lied, knowing full-well he knew she was lying anyway ( ... )
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Bill didn't bother with the formal waltz he'd danced with Fern earlier, just held her hand in his, kept her against him and moved to the steady beat. "Trust me, my dear, I love this dress. Mainly because I'm so fond of the girl who makes it look so good." He rolled his eyes. "What? You want to fuck him too, hmm?"
Glancing back down her arse, he wouldn't go quite so far as to touch her (he valued his life) but like he'd said, he'd look all he liked. "I've had it memorized a long time now." Bill loved his brother, Charlie and him the closest in age and just in general, but he clearly couldn't see what he had. "He's a bit like that, my boy Charles."
Ah, yes, that old topic. "We're doing fine. Not great, she's married to the moodiest man in Britain, but we're managing."
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