Disclaimer: The fine tapestry of plot and characters belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am merely pulling threads at will and weaving my own design in counterpoint to hers.
Chapter 61
An Intimate Soirée
Tonks confided that Slughorn had helped her with the latest variation of the Wolfsbane Potion and that she was confident that it was the best formula yet. “Remus will feel like he’s walking on air, just you wait and see.” She beamed.
Time would tell, Harry thought to himself as he smiled back. It was difficult not to get caught up in Tonks’ exuberance.
The only immediate result, Harry noted, was that the group practice sessions were scaled down to a more manageable two a week as Lupin’s body adjusted to the new regimen.
Despite the small respite, it seemed like the days of preparation before Friday’s date with Ginny flew by with unnatural speed. By suppertime on Friday, Harry was so keyed up that he settled for stashing some sandwiches in the cold box in case he got hungry later. With one final reproachful look for not being let in on the secret, Hermione announced that she had promised Ginny she would assist her and stalked off with a haughty air.
Alone with Ron and Neville, Harry found himself peppered with last minute questions.
“Look, guys,” Harry demurred, “as much as you’re both dying to be named co-conspirators, I can’t let you do it. You’ll thank me later when McGonagall starts asking who was involved. Trust me, you won’t want to sit detention without having reaped the rewards.”
“I don’t think McGonagall will be that stringent, Harry,” Neville’s assured him. “Unless you have something really outrageous planned, that is.”
Harry laughed at the eager faces that were trained on him. “I assure you, it wouldn’t even register on Fred and George’s scale. And as long as I don’t burn down the Great Hall with all the candles, I suspect McGonagall won’t feel compelled to expel me, either.”
“But you expect you’ll end up sitting detention?” Ron prodded.
“Probably,” Harry conceded, “but it will have been worth it.”
Feeling that the grandiose schemes that his two suitemates were brewing in their minds would far outshine his own, Harry excused himself to begin his final preparations. Half-way through buttoning his shirt studs, Dobby Apparated excitedly at his side.
“Everything is going according to plan, Harry Potter, sir,” he bobbed excitedly. Harry smiled with satisfaction to see that Dobby had donned the pastel taffeta jacket that he’d given the elf for Christmas. “Dobby has only to place the sign on the doors to keep interlopers away.”
“Not yet,” Harry cautioned the elf. “No need to alert anyone else that we have plans underway. Wait until I arrive with Ginny to post the sign; that way we will get the maximum time before we’re interrupted. I will be by to double-check on everything shortly.”
With a curt bow and an incandescent grin, Dobby Disapparated.
Finishing his final preparations in record time, Harry straightened his white bow tie one last time in the wardrobe mirror. Hermione’s suggestion of using just a dab of Sleakeazy’s Hair Potion on his unruly locks made his image project a worldliness that failed to settle the fluttering in his stomach. Nevertheless, he would have to make a point of thanking her later.
Ron lounged with practiced casualness in the doorway to his own bed chamber and looked his best friend over carefully from head to toe. “You’re really going in for the kill, you know,” he commented wryly.
“She made her wishes very clear, Ron. I’m just following her mandate.” Harry smiled in return.
“You won’t forget that it’s my sister we’re talking about, will you?”
“I already told you: I don’t intend to get expelled,” Harry shot back with a wicked grin as he threw the Invisibility Cloak over his upper body. With a languid flourish, the Cloak settled itself over the deepest black of Harry’s trousers and shoes.
Harry waited breathlessly for the last of the stragglers to make their way out the Gryffindor portrait hole. He had finally caught his breath after the quick run down to the Great Hall to assure himself that everything was in perfect order. Not that he really doubted Dobby, but his own nervousness demanded that final bit of reassurance.
His heart was racing as he swirled the Cloak off and folded it quickly into an inside pocket. Walking up boldly to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry uttered the password that Neville had shared with him only minutes before, “La vie en rose.”
Startled, the Fat Lady swung her head in his direction and nearly dropped her wine goblet in the process. “Where did you come from, sweetie?” she asked as she appraised Harry critically. “Sure I can’t convince you to be my date for the evening?”
“Not unless you want Ginny Weasley to figure out that paintings are not immune to hexes,” he confided with a disarming smile.
The Fat Lady merely arched her eyebrow in response as the portrait swung forward to admit him. Despite a deep breath that did nothing to calm his nerves, Harry found himself standing in the main Gryffindor common room. Just as before, the controlled chaos within stopped abruptly to acknowledge the presence of an outsider.
“I’ll let Ginny know that you’re here,” a girl Harry remembered as Ginny’s Herbology companion offered almost immediately. “She told us to expect you.”
As she nimbly raced up the stairs into the girls dormitory, a small group that Harry recognized as the Layettes detached themselves from the main contingent of Gryffindors.
“Hi, girls,” Harry greeted them each in turn as they came up to appraise him in his tuxedo. Simone was actually bold enough to pick a microscopic speck of dust from his lapel just so she could smile up at him alluringly.
Leah perched herself coquettishly on the table before him and whispered, “Have you come to ask Ginny to marry you?”
Harry smiled at her brazenness and then responded honestly, “Not tonight. No ring.” He patted down all his pockets to demonstrate.
Leah sighed dramatically and shook her head at his obvious lack of preparation. A slightly older girl who was unfamiliar to Harry sidled up next to Leah and whispered rather loudly, “Is this the Harry that you’ve been talking about? He looks good enough to eat!” They broke out in a fit of giggles as Harry felt himself begin to blush.
“I don’t mind telling you that I’m nervous enough without your help, thank you very much,” he joked, trying to make light of the moment. An entire chorus of giggles broke out to indicate just how many girls in the vicinity had been hanging on his every word.
The entire room heaved a collective sigh as Ginny came into view at the foot of the stairs. With her hair swept up and pinned, she looked like one of the Titian goddesses that graced the portrait gallery.
Harry felt his heart actually threatened to stop momentarily before it took off at a gallop. The situation felt surreal to him in so many ways, not the least of which was the thought that he had invited the wrong girl to the Yule Ball when he’d had the chance. Through no conscious effort on his part, he found himself standing next to her and taking her hand.
He felt a soft touch on his shoulder as Hermione leaned between them to offer a few words of advice. Harry had not noticed her in the shadowy stairs behind Ginny. “Unless you plan on being tonight’s scheduled entertainment, I suggest you two not linger any longer here.”
With a sage expression, she nodded towards the chorus of rapt faces that were all turned in their direction, watching their every move, all having abandoned any pretext of their own for being present in the common room.
Hesitating only long enough to capture Ginny’s scintillating eyes with a private smile, Harry tugged her gently in the direction of the portrait hole. Once outside, they encountered Neville who had obviously been waiting for them to emerge.
Flashing them a conspiratorial grin, Neville whispered, “In his official capacity, the Head Boy is called upon to investigate any activity that’s outside the norm. I’ll keep the hordes at bay for as long as I can. Ron has gone down to make sure the way is clear. If your destination is up, there are no obstacles at this time.”
“We’re headed to the Great Hall,” Harry confided in an undertone.
“Wait for Ron’s signal then.”
Leaning slightly over the banister, Harry caught sight of bright red hair several floors below. Ron smiled and waved to indicate that they should proceed. Harry set a brisk pace from the start as the carefree spirit of the moment overcame them. The sharp clicking of Ginny’s sandals echoed as she took the marble staircase at a near run, but they were too intoxicated with sheer momentum to slow down until they stood before the entrance to the Great Hall. With a deep bow, Dobby opened the oak doors that had been sealed with elfish magic and quickly attached a hand-lettered sign to indicate that the Hall was closed for a private function.
The Hall seemed cavernous with only the two of them and the tiny house-elf present. Ginny took a moment to glance around her in awe at the sheer magnitude of the empty space. The customary floating candles had been moved to create their own glowing islands in the distant corners of the room, the ceiling reflecting only the velvety navy blue of the night sky peppered liberally with twinkling stars and a crescent moon. Only one long table remained against the far wall, covered in a snowy cloth and decorated with additional candles, an ice bucket and two tall goblets.
“Surely, you didn’t?” Ginny asked as she looked in the direction of the refreshments.
“It’s only sparkling cider,” Harry confided. “I was breaking enough school rules as it was just taking over the use of the Hall.”
Ginny nodded absently as she allowed her eyes to drink in the deepest black of Harry’s formal clothing. Refusing to feel self-conscious, Harry took a step back so that he could ardently admire Ginny at the same time. The ripe peachy tones of her dress matched the rosy flush that their recent flight had brought to her cheeks and bare shoulders. The demure note of sheer black lace that covered the bodice and skirt was in counterpoint to the square neckline that ended right at Ginny’s armpits. The expanse of her bare neck, shoulders and arms was enough to leave Harry momentarily breathless.
“You look absolutely stunning,” he murmured as he caught her hand once more and drew her closer.
“As do you, Harry.” She smiled as she slowly raised her eyes to meet his.
Not daring to succumb to kissing her this early in the evening, Harry signaled Dobby to start the music instead. With a sharp snap of the elf’s long fingers, the needle on the old Victrola settled itself on the record’s surface. As the strains of the orchestra penetrated even the darkest corners of the room, Harry led Ginny out onto the center of the empty floor.
He took a moment to clear his thoughts and to shove his butterflies deep into the pit of his stomach as Tonks had instructed him. With more confidence that he actually felt, Harry drew his hand around Ginny’s waist and pulled her sharply towards his right hip. As his lessons had demonstrated conclusively, this connection was essential for them to move as a seamless unit. He took an additional moment to allow the music to flow through him, then staring deeply into Ginny’s eyes, he let the feeling of sublime joy fill him to the point where dancing was the only possible way to express himself.
Just as Tonks had taught him, the dance steps became effortless as he spiraled his way around the floor. Without a second thought, Ginny had surrendered herself to Harry’s lead just as Tonks had done in their practice sessions. Not that he could compare himself to the polished moves of an accomplished dancer, but he was no longer a clumsy boor, either. By the satisfied smile on Ginny’s face, he could tell that she was enjoying herself as well.
As the music drew to a close, Harry allowed their movements to slow in perfect time with the recording. He almost lost track of his surroundings as he continued to hold Ginny’s gaze as they came to a standstill, breathless and slightly dizzy from the many tight turns they had executed. Time seemed to stand still as Harry recognized this was the perfect moment.
“I love you, Ginny Weasley,” he whispered as if his very life hung in the balance.
“I love you, too,” Ginny breathed in reply as she reached up and drew him into a long and fervent kiss.
When they finally broke apart, the next dance was half-way over; but they laughed it off as Dobby obediently returned the needle to the opening notes. The weightless feeling that Ginny’s words had kindled in Harry translated seamlessly into an exhilarating dance that left them totally winded and laughing by the time it wound down.
More whispered endearments were followed by an even more ebullient whirl around the Hall; it was all they could do to keep from become totally inebriated with one another. As Harry poured more and more of his soul into feverish kisses, increasing amounts of passion were unleashed into their dancing. At times, it was all he could do to maintain his feet as the room spun faster and faster in the periphery. If Tonks had not warned him ahead of time to keep his eyes locked on his partner’s face, they would surely have ended up in a mad jumble more than once.
They had completely lost track of their surroundings by the time Harry heard the sounds of the great doors creaking open, followed by various animated conversations. He was just pressing his lips to the petal softness of Ginny’s inner wrist when he looked up to find the Headmistress watching him with a rather amused expression.
“You throw a wonderful party, my dears,” she commented with a benevolent smile. “I can only assume our invitations got lost in the shuffle.”
“Sort of like the memo for Casual Day.” Lupin grinned from behind her.
Harry surveyed the expectant faces of the faculty as they waited for him to respond. The Headmistress, he noted, was playfully swinging Dobby’s sign that read: “Private Function in Progress” from the tips of her fingers.
“It was a spur of the moment thing,” Harry admitted with his best innocent smile. “I may have actually forgotten about the invitations…. I barely had time to do much in the way of refreshments as it was.” He motioned with a slight pout in the direction of the lonely ice bucket. He could feel Ginny squeezing the life out of his other hand as she struggled to remain impassive.
“Oh, that’s easy to remedy,” McGonagall supplied archly as she waved her wand grandly in the direction of the long table. Instantly, a large spray of roses in a tall silver vase sparkled among tall candelabras as a sizable urn filled with iced champagne bottles materialized. A silver tray with petits fours was next, flanked by a crystal compote of ripe strawberries. “I’m certain Dobby can find some other suitable snacks in the kitchen,” she added as she smiled in the direction of the house-elf. “Don’t forget something with chocolate for Remus and Tonks.”
With a magnificent bow and a flourish, Dobby nodded eagerly and Disapparated.
“Now, Harry,” the Headmistress began as she drew him aside, “Tonks tells me she’s been giving you a rather accelerated bit of dance training. Maximum results in a minimum of time, she calls it. Considering I was not so successful when I tried to prepare your group for the Yule Ball using more traditional methods, would it be too forward of me to ask for a wee demonstration?”
Harry could not believe he had heard her correctly. Surely she wasn’t just going to let him off the hook so blithely? She was probably going to toy with him a bit, he decided. But first, he was fairly certain that was a blatant request for the next dance “ luckily, that he could supply.
“Of course, Headmistress,” he agreed, holding out his hand. “Would you do me the honor?”
With a snap of her wand in the direction of the gramophone, the bright notes of the orchestra filled the Hall once again. Much more confident this time around, Harry took to the center of the floor as he sensed other couples begin to join them. He paid them no heed, keeping his eyes pasted on McGonagall’s face. She caught him watching her as he whirled her effortlessly across the floor and raised her eyebrow expectantly.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged gamely. “Get it over with…please.”
“Are you so determined to be punished?” she posed with a laugh.
“Unless I can produce a duly signed contract for the rental of the Great Hall, I suspect I’m without a reasonable alibi.”
“Not necessarily,” McGonagall replied coyly. “Did you share with her the contents of your letter?”
“Most of it,” Harry admitted, feeling like he was suddenly leaving the shallow end of the pool.
“Did she say she loved you, too?” the Headmistress whispered, shooting him the most daring look.
“Please, Headmistress, I don’t feel like I can refuse to answer, yet I’m not really comfortable--”
“But you’d tell Remus, surely?”
Harry hesitated, then decided he owed her at least a partial explanation. “ Yes, but he and I have been on a first name basis for many months.”
“All right, Harry, you don’t have to answer my intrusive questions.” She smiled gently as the music drew to a close. “Most of it was written on your faces when you showed up at my office to see the moonlight. What, you didn’t think I caught your furtive glances?….If you’ll excuse me, I have to convey my compliments to Tonks on the excellent training she gave you.”
Harry joined Ginny at the refreshment table where she was animatedly trying to convince Dobby to pour her some champagne. Dobby was having none of it.
“Ginny, please don’t,” Harry whispered as he quickly kissed the mole on the back of her neck. “My head still hangs in the balance with the Headmistress as it is!”
“She didn’t read you the riot act?” Ginny laughed.
“She wants to see if she can make me squirm first.” Harry sighed dramatically as Ginny giggled.
“Harry, my boy!” Slughorn walked up and placed a jovial arm around each of their shoulders. “Delightful soirée. Pity about the invitations, though.” He busied himself with coaxing the gold wrap from the neck of the closest bottle and expertly popped off the cork with a minimum of fuss. With a broad smile, he handed Harry a partially filled glass together with the admonition, “Just limit yourself to one tonight. You don’t want to make yourself sloppy.” Turning to Ginny, he handed her a similar glass filled with cider. “Trust me, my dear, the room will spin enough on its own with any added encouragement.”
Harry turned at the familiar sound of Tonks’ silvery laughter and stepped quickly out of her trajectory as Lupin spun her a little too close to where he had been standing. She released Lupin’s hand and avoided the collision at the last minute.
“Thirst must be affecting my sense of perspective,” she called over her shoulder to Lupin as she fell laughing against Harry’s shoulder. “Buy a girl a drink, handsome?” she giggled.
“Don’t make me have to challenge you to a duel, Mister,” Lupin quipped, laying a friendly hand on Harry’s other shoulder.
“Would that be wands… or pistols at dawn, Remus?” Harry grinned in return.
“How about champagne corks at midnight?” Tonks whispered giddily.
“That calls for a toast, then,” Lupin suggested once he was able to stop laughing enough to hold his glass steady. “To Gryffindor!”
“And Hufflepuff!” Tonks added as she clinked her goblet all around.
Noticing that Ginny was quickly immersed in girl talk with Tonks, Harry turned to find Lupin giving him the Marauder’s grin.
“Neville alerted me early on; I tried to delay everyone else as much as I could without looking like a conspirator,” Lupin volunteered under his breath.
“Thanks.” Harry smiled in return. “I knew it was inevitable that we’d be interrupted; although Dobby reminded me that only one of the Headmistresses would be able to dislodge his elfish magic from the doors. Let’s just say I’m pleased that I haven’t yet been hauled off in chains…”
Lupin chuckled. “I did hear some whispers to that effect as the mob congregated at the door. I guess it all depended upon what was transpiring on the other side.”
“If they were expecting to be shocked, they must have been gravely disappointed!”
“Actually, I think ‘awed’ would be a better word,” Lupin remarked. “There’s not a soul in this room that would label this an amateur event. Certainly not Ginny.”
“Would it surprise you if I told you that wasn’t the inspiration?” Harry whispered.
“Well…” Lupin urged with a twinkle.
“It was your comment about how I was never going to find the quintessential moment that made me decide to simply create one of my own.”
Lupin threw back his head in laughter. “I recommend you not confess that to Ginny,” he added in an undertone. “So you told her?”
“What is it with everyone tonight?” Harry joked. “Even the Headmistress has asked! Is nothing private anymore?”
“If you wanted to keep it private, then perhaps you should have considered the Astronomy Tower,” Lupin recommended.
“That’s like feeding the grapevine,” Harry returned.
“Perhaps you’re right about that,” Lupin allowed with a grin. “As far as the Headmistress is concerned, I actually think she’s trying to find some way to avoid giving you detention….as difficult as that might be for you to imagine.”
“Perhaps if he’d heard Minerva sigh that the Hall looked just like the set of that Great Gatsby movie she ordered from Hermione’s catalog,” Tonks added, leaning over for a refill.
By the sounds of voices and laughter competing with the music, Harry knew that he would find that even more guests had arrived on the scene. He saw Professors Sinistra and Smithwick talking animatedly against the far wall. Flitwick was setting up his infamous chess board on a small table that had been arranged near the doors “ the better to trap the unsuspecting, Harry concluded slyly.
On the far side of the dance floor, Mister Stevens was expertly swirling Professor Sprout into a dizzying turn. As she demurred to catch her balance, Professor Hooch smoothly interceded and waltzed off effortlessly under Stevens’ direction. Harry was mesmerized by how adroitly they maneuvered between the less skillful dancers until they were next to the refreshments when the music ended. As Professor Hooch watched with the most indescribable look on her face, Stevens downed half a glass of champagne in one gulp and then followed it up with a swig from his trusty water bottle. He whispered a few words in her ear and she nodded almost imperceptibly.
Without preamble, Stevens approached Tonks where she was still whispering coyly with Ginny. Harry turned a distracted gaze onto to the dance floor while he strained to hear the conversation to his right.
“Excuse me, Tonks,” Stevens interceded effortlessly. “I’ve been informed that you were responsible for the expert training Mr. Potter demonstrated for the Headmistress. My compliments.”
“Why thank you, Simon.” Tonks’ voice held just the hint of a smile. “Harry was extremely motivated.”
“I can see that.” Stevens chuckled easily. “Actually, I’ve come to ask a personal favor…”
Harry felt Ginny nuzzle his neck as she wrapped her arm around his elbow. He turned and whispered in her ear that he was trying to discretely eavesdrop. Understanding immediately, she laid her head on his shoulder and gazed out dreamily at the couples moving across the dance floor.
“… a dance I learned in my youth from my fiancée,” Stevens continued. “She was of Slavic descent, you see. I’ve not found anyone else who was familiar with it, but I was hoping perhaps…”
“A hint maybe,” Tonks urged amicably.
“Of course,” Stevens’ voice grew silkier, despite the hesitancy that he was trying to emote. “It was done to waltz tempo, only in a perfectly straight line, not a broad circular pattern as is customary otherwise. The female part starts forward.”
“I believe I’ve done something similar in practice, although I’ve never danced it with a partner,” Tonks admitted.
“It’s often done as a solo dance, also,” Stevens agreed. “Usually ending in a series of dizzying turns. In the Slavic fashion, the tempo increases each time until only the most determined are left standing.”
“Or the least inebriated!” Tonks laughed gaily. “If you can lead, I think I can follow.”
From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Stevens click his heels as he offered Tonks his hand. Instantly, Harry remembered that the students from Durmstrang had similar mannerisms. Stevens whispered something to the house-elf who was manning the gramophone just as the previous melody came to an end.
“Wait for my signal, then,” Stevens instructed the elf as he led Tonks out on the emptying floor. Tonks caught Lupin’s eye and Harry noted the amused look that passed between them.
There was a feeling of anticipation in the air as everyone turned to watch unabashedly from the sidelines. Tonks’ words were not audible to Harry, but Stevens obligingly lent her his wand. With a sharp downbeat, she had changed her clothing into a white flowing dress cinched with a flowered red belt. Stevens nodded his approval as she returned the wand.
“This should be good,” Lupin whispered from Harry’s left. “Tonks doesn’t usually go to this much trouble. I suspect she’s determined not to let Stevens upstage her for once.”
“I didn’t know she was so competitive,” Harry replied in an undertone.
“She isn’t,” Lupin agreed. “I can only think she must be very sure of herself this time.”
Their attention was redirected to the dance floor as the introduction was taken up by the recording. It was clearly a more dramatic tempo than what had come before, fiery and untamed just beneath the surface melody. Harry could imagine Tonks letting the feeling of the music infuse her as she had taught him to do.
With a slow intake of breath to demonstrate that they were on the same beat, they hesitated briefly at the top of the measure and then flew across the room. The movements were so fast and airy that it was as if their feet did not touch the ground. Stevens led Tonks through a gauntlet of fast turns that she executed flawlessly and more quickly than the music allowed. Harry watched Tonks’ lips move and Stevens inclined his head briefly before moving fluently into the second repetition that had them moving back across the floor in another direction.
Stevens’ self-satisfied smile annoyed Harry instinctively as the man effortlessly led Tonks through the first graceful glides that had them skimming the floor’s surface once more. Stevens did his best to appear unruffled when Tonks attacked the turns with a speed and dexterity that was obviously unfamiliar to him. Singles became doubles as Harry’s eyes strained to keep her in focus. At the very last minute, Stevens wrapped his arm protectively around her waist to slow her momentum. Tonks caught his eye for a second to regain her balance, then draped back over Stevens’ arm like a broken doll to signal the end.
There was a moment of reverent silence before everyone broke out in appreciative applause. Harry used that small heartbeat to sneak a peek at Lupin who was staring with wonderment at Tonks.
Stevens handed her over to Lupin with thanks for a well-danced number. “I had forgotten what a truly challenging dance it was,” he complimented her airily. “My fiancée did not have your skill with turns. I suspect you could have out-shone them all.”
“What ever happened to your fiancée, Simon?” Tonks asked conversationally as she leaned on Lupin’s arm.
“She died very tragically at a young age, not long after we were married. We were expecting our first child,” Stevens replied solemnly. “Every time I can dance in that fashion, I feel a bit of the loss loosen its hold upon me. I cannot thank you enough,” he added softly, his eyes glistening as he turned curtly away.
Another contradiction, Harry thought to himself.
Next to him, Tonks looked thoughtfully into Lupin’s eyes. “It’s true that not everyone dances with joy like I do,” she observed softly. “There are those who use it to express their grief.”
“Forgive me for being an unsympathetic lout, but there’s something about that man that just sets my teeth on edge,” Lupin observed in an undertone.
“So you did learn something from the Czarina after all,” Harry remarked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“Hardly,” scoffed Tonks. “And she was exceptionally condescending when it came to my learning the men’s variation that is even more torturous--”
“”more torturous?” Lupin echoed.
“Imagine leaps between the turns and a tempo that gets increasing slower.”
“But Tonks,” Ginny broke in, “don’t the terms ‘slower’ and ‘more torturous’ tend to contradict one another?”
“Not when you consider that in order to not get ahead of the music, each leap must keep you longer in the air and each turn must be a double or a triple.” Seeing their expectant faces, Tonks elaborated by striking an exaggerated pose and assuming a Slavic accent, “Nymphadora, dear, those movements are designed for peasants, not for young ladies. Vimen do not have the proper thigh muscles for all that jumping.” Returning to her own voice, Tonks added in an undertone, “Desiccated sexist prig that she was.”
“So where did you learn?” Harry pressed.
“I had a friend in the men’s repertory class, a class that specifically excluded women. He was considerably older and when we were seen sneaking into an empty practice studio, unwarranted assumptions were made. When we were invariably discovered rehearsing the grand allegro, the Czarina’s only comment was to shake her head and mutter, ‘Vat vould your mother say if she saw you dancing in such an inappropriate manner?’ At which point, I should have just kept my mouth shut,” Tonks conceded with a sigh.
“But you didn’t, did you?” Lupin chuckled.
Tonks shook her head ruefully. “I assumed her persona right back at her and said, ‘Vell, I suppose that vould all depend upon vether I had performed the steps properly!’ I think that’s what finally got me barred from classes.”
Amid the laughter, Ginny inquired, “You never told her point blank that her policies were sexist?”
“I don’t think I knew such a word existed at age eleven,” Tonks replied thoughtfully. “But you don’t have to know the word to experience the feeling, do you?”
As the bodies on the dance floor cleared temporarily, Harry glimpsed none other than Sybill Trelawney, her habitual Gypsy attire replaced by a gown with more ascetically pleasing scarves. She surveyed the dancing couples in the room expectantly. To Harry’s surprise, it was but moments later that Stevens showed up at Trelawney’s side, clicking his heels and leading her out onto the dance floor. Harry was about to look away absently when he caught Flitwick jerk up from his chess match and follow the dancing couple with a strange, curious look.
Lupin and Tonks had joined the other dancing couples as Harry drew Ginny aside near the refreshment table. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he whispered enticingly.
“More surprises?”
Perhaps the biggest one of all, Harry thought to himself, as he no longer had any doubts in his own mind.
“Remember your secret wish from the Yule Ball? The breathless dance that you wished you’d claimed?”
“Yes…” Ginny replied hesitantly.
“You need to go ask Simon Stevens for the next dance.” Noticing her bewildered expression, Harry lowered his voice to a bare whisper, “He’s Severus Snape!”
Ginny’s eyes went wide with disbelief as she searched the dance floor feverishly. “But how?” she breathed.
“The ubiquitous water bottle,” Harry replied. “We only assumed he was a health fanatic.”
“But is there a real Simon Stevens?” Ginny hissed.
“Who knows?” Harry shrugged. “I suspect somewhere there’s a man with those same features, but I have no way to know what his name is.”
“Then you think he’s been masquerading since the start of the year?”
“Probably. I suspect the hair that he’s been using for the Polyjuice Potion belongs to a regular customer at the beauty salon owned by Professor Hooch’s sister.”
“Now you’ve lost me,” Ginny admitted.
“I suspect that Snape’s second wife is Professor Hooch. I found a picture of them as entrants in a Midlands dance competition in the Daily Prophet. It was about five or six years ago.”
“Second wife?” Ginny returned softly, straining to keep up.
“Yes.” Harry nodded. “That was a true story he told Tonks about his first wife.”
What’s more, Lupin must have also made the connection by now, Harry surmised -- if he hadn’t done so long ago. Yet Lupin seemed studiously unconcerned that Snape was in their midst. Clearly there were more games afoot in the Great Hall than he ever suspected. Harry put those thoughts aside for now and refocused his attention on Ginny.
“Go for it,” he encouraged her. “Who knows if you’ll ever have the opportunity again. There are too many other people around to worry, don’t you think?”
“You think I should?” she asked as her eyes lit up with mischief.
“Yes,” he urged as he kissed her lightly. “Just make sure he tears his eyes from your ravishing form after one dance.”
Reluctantly, Harry released her hand as she laughed coquettishly. He decided against warning Snape that her giggle had a decidedly devilish edge to it.
Harry sipped the last of his champagne as he watched Ginny carefully weave her way through the crowd. She was stopping to exchange brief words with everyone so as not to alert her quarry ahead of time.
“Excuse me, Mister Stevens, might I impose upon you for a dance?” Ginny tendered in her most polite tones. There was a quiet conviction behind her words that made the conversations in the immediate vicinity cease momentarily.
Stevens turned a bored countenance towards her and slowly appraised her critically. Ginny held her ground as she felt his eyes bore into every square inch of her arms and shoulders and work their way languidly down her bare calves to the tips of her supple suede sandals.
Failing to intimidate, he turned hooded eyes to her and drawled, “Do you think you can keep up?”
“That’s what we’re here to see, isn’t it?” she tossed back.
Stevens chuckled softly as he led her out onto the floor. The music was of a moderate tempo, but when they came abreast of the gramophone, Ginny abruptly stopped.
“This is hardly what I had in mind,” she whispered coyly.
“No? Bearing in mind that we’re in plain sight of everyone, what exactly did you have in mind?” his sultry voice dared.
Ginny’s eyes flashed at his insolence, but then she remembered who she was dealing with “ and that he was no longer one of her instructors.
“Show me the true measure of your skill. I have no patience with amateurs!”
Raising his eyebrow in appreciation, Stevens leaned over for a brief conversation with the house-elf. Almost immediately, the pace of the music picked up appreciably.
“Is this more to your liking?” he asked as he pulled her extra close.
“I’ll let you know if I’m breathless by the end of the dance,” Ginny whispered in his ear.
Stevens laughed outright as he whirled her expertly among the other dancers, his eyes never leaving her face.
“I’d forgotten what a little spit-fire you are,” he remarked. “No wonder Potter’s so enamored of you!”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry you missed the boat, Simon?”
When he laughed again, Ginny was surprised by how pleasantly mellow it sounded. “If only my situation were different...” He left the words hanging in a tantalizing manner.
It was Ginny’s turn to laugh at the total absurdity of the situation: flirting shamelessly with a teacher who would just as soon give her detention, or hex her, or worse. Yet she was consumed in the headiness of the moment, the recklessness of the dance, the fearlessness that Harry’s affirmations had stirred in her.
When the music drew to a close, Ginny whispered her thanks. Stevens’ black eyes held hers just long enough for him to raise her hand to his lips and then wash his eyes over the long expanse of her bare arm.
“Hardly breathless,” he echoed softly.
With perfect formality, Stevens handed Ginny over to Harry, her eyes still sparkling from the magic that the whirlwind dance had inspired. Harry was momentarily surprised when Stevens placed a congenial hand on his arm and confided, “I suggest you perfect the faster tempo, Potter. She’s hardly even winded.”
Harry watched Stevens flash them a disconcerting smile as he wandered off to his next conquest. Ginny was laughing effervescently as Harry whispered, “What did he say to you? I thought you were going to hex him for a moment there.”
“He would have probably liked that,” Ginny giggled. “Unless he hexed me first, of course….Seriously, Harry, he said the most outrageous things!”
Harry nodded in understanding. “And I suppose you rose to the bait?”
“You know I can’t resist a challenge.” Ginny grinned. “And he does have the most underappreciated laugh.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I wanted to make this night as special for you as I could.”
“You mean you planned for that dance to happen?” Ginny asked in wonder.
“I only brought the pieces together; there was no guarantee that it would play out the way it did,” he admitted candidly. “It’s mostly dumb luck that it all worked out…After the other night, I wanted to demonstrate that I would do anything for you.”
“I suppose that’s one of the reasons I love you so,” she smiled in return as she held him close.
It was long after curfew when they made to leave the Great Hall and Hagrid insisted on walking them back to their common rooms.
“Really, Hagrid, it’s my responsibility as their Head of House,” Lupin tried to intercede.
“Rubbish, Remus,” Hagrid replied with a crooked grin. “They’s safe enough wit’ me if they get attacked in Gryffindor Tower. Just keep me seat warm ‘til I get back. Filius is offta get the Firewhiskey an’ I find meself wit’ a strange compulsion ta try out tha’ new chess set o’ his. Yeh an’ Tonks could do with a bit o’ practicin’ on the dance floor, anyhow. If yeh ask me, this pup here has yeh beat wit’ the way he was twirlin’ Ginny ‘round earlier.”
“All right, Hagrid,” Lupin relented as he and Tonks said their goodbyes. “I trust that they’re in your capable hands. By the way, Ginny, I left you a gift on the bulletin board in your common room.”
“Sorry you missed most of the party, Hagrid,” Harry remarked as he and Ginny allowed themselves to be shepherded up the stairs.
“Who’s ta say I did?” Hagrid winked slyly. “Jus’ cuz yeh welps is goin’ ta bed doesn’t mean the party’s over, now does it?”
“Thanks for keeping order in the Entrance Hall, though.” Ginny smiled. “Was there an angry mob?”
“It weren’t nothin’ I couldn’t handle. ‘Course it helped when the Headmistriss an’ her entourage swept through an’ warned everyone ta return ta their common rooms “ or else.”
“Filch must’ve been really disappointed when they heeded her advice,” Harry added sardonically.
“There was enough stragglers ta keep him happy, mind yeh,” Hagrid chuckled. “Still it’s good ta see yeh two managed ta work things out. Harry was mopin’ ‘round like a wet chicken justa ‘bout every time I saw him.”
“Now that’s a romantic image!” Ginny interjected snidely.
“I suppose I shouldn’t’ve said tha’,” Hagrid added sheepishly. The other two broke out in stifled laughter as they approached the floors where the dormitories were located. “Now, I’m fairly certain the main common room’s empty so yehs can say yer goodnights all private like. I’ll wait out here ta take Harry up the final flight.”
“It’s really all right, Hagrid; I can take it from here,” Harry demurred.
“I’m sure yeh can and tha’s precisely why the Headmistriss would have me hide if I didn’ escort yeh personally ta yer separate common room!”
Harry Potter and the Hero's Lament by L A Moody
Chapter Notes: Harry shatters a number of school rules to redeem himself with Ginny.