Party - open
Who : everyone
Where : in the garden, on the dance floor made by Terry & Rita
When : September 21st, starting from 10PM
Rating : TBA
Summary : TBA
( Read more... )
Where : in the garden, on the dance floor made by Terry & Rita
When : September 21st, starting from 10PM
Rating : TBA
Summary : TBA
( Read more... )
Rita smiled, wrapping one hand around his bicep and laying the other against his hip, and moving onto the floor with him.
"No, I don't suppose you do. And I think I'm happy with that -- I don't think my toes would like it if we tried to do it the other way and you trod on me in those shoes."
She looked up at him, and... Merlin. She'd noticed her height this week, of course, having worn Kevin's flat shoes the entire time, but she felt even tinier right then. "Look at you, all the way up there. I think I'm glad wearing heels never grabbed men, despite that ridiculous trend in the sixties. No one would ever see me if you wore shoes like this all the time."
And she'd been meaning... was now the right time? She didn't want to frighten him off. Wasn't sure she would, really, since he seemed rather at ease tonight. She wanted him to know, and as long as she didn't dwell on it and force him to respond.
"They know, by the way," she murmured. "Ginny and Romilda and Pansy. Romilda asked me who the last person I'd slept with was, after I drank the Veritaserum, and there was no way around that one. I suppose I could have tried to take the question literally, but I can't honestly remember who the last person I shared a night with was, so I had to go with the question's intent. I asked them to leave it be, and I hope they have, because I didn't want to make things harder for you."
They moved together easily, even with a respectable distance. Neville was a talented dancer - smooth, confident, not too demanding like some people she'd known. "Whoever knew we'd get to use this useless pureblood party skill in here, hm? I gather you learned when you were growing up?"
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He sidestepped and lead her into a fresh movement as she continued to speak, biting his lip as he heard what she said about the girls. "I thought there was something. They've been treating me...differently for the last couple of weeks. That makes a lot of sense."
The music changed again, and he compensated dutifully, thinking as she changed the subject. That was a much more comfortable thing for him; he didn't mind discussing his own past.
"I was a very clumbsy child," he laughed. "They tried to teach me to dance when I was seven, but I couldn't pick it up. After I heard about the Yule Ball in my fourth year..." He smiled, "I spent every possible moment practicing. I took lessons with Professor McGonagall." He flushed, and smiled.
"It paid off, of course. I took Ginny to the ball. I still remember how beautiful she looked." He chuckled again, then loosened his grip on Rita and changed his hold.
"Dancing is...I find it joyful. A priviledge. A release. Useless it might be; but strictly pureblood it certainly is not. You should appreciate your freedom a little more."
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"I don't, no," she smiled. "And I don't think I'll breathe anything about wanting to, either, else the Ministry might decide polyjuice would be amusing next week. I can cope with Kevin's clothes, but I'd draw the line at his body. Merlin, who knows where that's been?"
She nodded to his response, but left it there. She was grateful that he'd finally managed to talk about it without red in his cheeks or guilt and anger in his eyes, and not least because it meant she'd felt like she should try to address that, when she'd seen it.
Rita smiled, picturing the boy she remembered from the tournament year even younger and falling over his feet. Imagined how much courage it must have taken him, at fourteen years old, to ask his formidable head of house how to waltz.
"I imagine it paid off for McGonagall, as well. Now she'll always have a partner for the school dances." Rita, of course, couldn't give away the fact that she'd been present at the school the night of the ball, but she'd been much more interested in those two giants talking, anyway, so she couldn't say she'd noticed what Ginny Weasley looked like.
She smiled again. "True. You've got me there. Useless but fun, and I did rather enjoy dancing in muggle clubs when I was younger. Have you ever been to one? They're probably rather different now, but it was fantastic back then. And of course there were the wizarding parties, too - not balls, but parties, where the dancing was different. There were some truly terrible bands that we loved in the sixties - Horatio Hemlock, Martin Mintsinger and the Wands, The Cauldron Sisters Three - and you couldn't dance to them like this. Did McGonagall only teach you to waltz, or did she give you swing lessons as well?"
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"I danced with my grandmother too, while she was alive..."
He paused, continuing his steady pace as he thought for a long moment; remembered, then looked back up at Rita and smiled. "I apologise. Where were we?"
"Ah yes...she did only teach me the waltz," he said, honestly, but then he turned Rita in his arms and crossed his own over her chest and smiled. "But I am much older, and much wiser now. I've learnt a lot of new things since I've left school.
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The challenging little eyebrow made her laugh. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of suggesting anything," she smiled. "Though I can't say I could blame you if you did. I think I did, when I was about fifteen. All those stern teacher looks over the top of her glasses, and getting one of those rare smiles out of her when my transfigurations were particularly good. Don't tell anyone that, though, will you? They'll kick me out of the Slytherin alumnus." She chuckled, the the smile softened when he mentioned his grandmother, and she granted him his moment of silence.
She wasn't expecting the sudden spin, and let out a gasp of laughter as she went round, still recovering when he caught her and drew her back toward him again. "Oh yes," she smirked, "Because you're so terribly old now. One foot in the grave, you." He spun her back in response, and she grinned at him.
"You're going to have to take those shoes off if you really want to dance, otherwise you'll break an ankle. Because I'm going to wear you out."
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Having set them aside carefully he took Rita's hands in his own, then frowned. The music was still too slow. He coughed, and it changed for him, and he brought Rita to arm's length and turned with her, swivelling his own hips in the other direction to his heels.
"Ancient. Why don't you show a young, inexperienced brat how real swingers do it?" he challenged.
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Rita laughed. "Snape was still in nappies when I started Hogwarts, and I don't think anyone fancied Slughorn. Oh dear, am I giving away my age?"
She smiled when the new song started up. "Martin Mintsinger. Big Brother must have heard me."
Rita moved with him, and the movements were a little jerky at first while they found speed and rhythm. She was a bit rusty, really, but she wasn't about to tell him that, especially when he looked so cheeky as he challenged her.
Swung in, out, in again, pulled herself close with both hands and let him twirl her. Back again, grinning and flushed. Twisting, kicking her heels, pulling herself close again. He was rather good, and they moved well together.
"Come on then," she breathed. "Can you go faster?"
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He swung again, crossparried and turned Rita over under his arms. "I heard Draco talking about his hands, too. Said they were indicative of something else, but buttoned up quite quickly on the subject."
Laughing he turned her again, kicked and shimmied. "Faster? I'll try, but much more of this and I'm going to slip a disk," he laughed again, teasing.
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"Oh, I won't deny that for a moment," she said, "But I didn't know him very well. I suspect we might have disagreed on who had the power, though, if it had come to that. Which could have made it fantastic, or terrible."
"I think I could guess," she laughed, swinging in and out as he moved her, pulling herself back and twirling under his arms. "Long fingers," out and back one way, "big nose," the other, "big cock." And they turned together, came back facing each other. "But what would Malfoy know? All show, no substance, like his father was in school."
"I'm sure you can keep up, old man."
Side by side, his arm over her shoulder, then swinging round again. Her behind him, sliding past and catching his other hand, back to face him. Both turning, arms crossed. Back again.
"Suppose he might know, though," she breathed. "Could tell you stories," parry right, "about the parents of some of your students," parry left, "about Ministry officials, even," twirl, pull back. "From the hippogriff's mouth, as well," swing out, pull in. "You'd never look at them the same way again."
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Around they went, and the dancefloor disappeared under them; miles of it, as they traversed.
"And I imagine you know your own dirt too. Merlin only knows what you heard about people during the war..." He glanced upwards briefly, then turned Rita, holding her against his chest and leaning forwards into a rolling pass. "Though I suggest against baring all you know, after all, these are the same people who are voting for you to stay in."
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She couldn't help her laugh when he faltered, but there was no malice in it, just amusement at the strength of his reaction, and a cheeky smile before they were moving again.
He pulled her back against him, close, and pressed her forwards and they rolled and swayed, the move almost an imitation of...
...But just as soon they were out of it, and moving again, and she was spun and dipped back and righted again. "There were a lot of things in the war, but not much we could print with the censors. And of course," a swing, a smile; "One doesn't dish on one's contacts."
The song was reaching it's crescendo, and Rita just might have been running out of breath. "I'll let you throw me over your shoulders, if you want to. Ever done that before, or would it be too much?" Pull in, pull out, spin to the side.
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"Tango," he announced, pulling out of the dip and spinning her back to her feet, snapping her to a stop at arm's length. He stepped towards her, took her other hand and guided her back in sharp steps. "I'll do the hard work. Just keep your feet beneath you."
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Give you a break. Damn him. He'd read her movements, bested her. She smirked. "All right. Maybe you win that round, then - or maybe we wear each other out."
Her head dipped back and she saw the sky, then he righted her again and stopped her - confident and in control. Rita had far less experience with tango than she did with typical waltz or the swing of her adolescence, but she knew the basics well enough.
Tango was more rigid, more controlled - closer, in a lot of ways. She knew how to hold her body, and how to step, which was enough if she could feel him and move with him. Dancing was a bit like sex, really, but she didn't think she'd draw that analogy for him. Then again, Rita thought stories were like sex, too, so maybe she just had a fixation.
"Dancing and plants," she murmured with a smile, trying to be both steady and relaxed in his arms. "What other talents do you have hiding away in there? Singing, maybe, to fit them together? Singing and dancing and humming lullabies to the mandrakes? Or something more random? Baking, or origami broomsticks?"
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"Singing? No...I haven't got the voice for it at all." He pulled her to his chest and marched her backwards, then span her, holding her to his chest.
"Other skills...no, nothing I can think of. I have a skill of messing things up, I suppose."
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She didn't know if he was doing this deliberately - grinning like that with the little twinkle in his eye even as his expression spoke of concentration; pulling her flush against his chest and using his whole body to move her, not just his hands - but by god, it was distracting.
Mentally, anyway. Physically, it worked - her body answered his moves and his prompts, moulding against him then moving out, responding. It was her brain that wondered if their bodies remembered each other, her brain that wondered whether he's chosen this dance on purpose, her...
Silly. She'd told herself she wasn't going to assume anything, wasn't going to read too much into what wasn't there, so why was she trying? Far better to just follow along with her body and flow. Expect nothing, and just let things go where they would.
She chuckled as they turned, kicked her heels up, then let him move her again. "I suppose you could say that you rise to challenges exceptionally well, couldn't you? I don't think anyone's had cause to be disappointed by you yet, in here." She must have had a little twinkle of her own.
They turned again, and from the corner of her vision she saw Pansy and Romilda watching them. "We're putting on a show, I think," she murmured the next time he pulled her close. "They look impressed."
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He turned again and guided her back in the last sequence of steps, took control of her shoulders and moved her left to right, right to left, left to right again, then halted quite abruptly, his hand to the small of her back, keeping her hovering inches from the floor.
The music stopped, and carefully Neville drew her back to her feet, smiling his sweetest smile. "It was lovely dancing with you, Rita. I really do appreciate it."
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