Dancing
The Grand Beginning (revised)
In which Ginny learns to Dance
Oh, by the way, I'm sorry (really sorry) if my O/C seems Larry-Sueish. Sad thing is, he's kind of modeled after someone I know. :P
Rated for (very) slight language.
Please R/R, although flames will be mercilessly mocked.
The demigoddess, JKR, owns all that is recognizable (pretty much everything). Warner might have some sort of claim to something, I don't know. I don't own anything. In fact, a good part of my own plot and/or interesting details (like the Glamour idea) may be pirated from other authors who I can't remember right now, but are doubtlessly awesome. If someone recognizes something, mention it and the original source in your review, and if it's merited, I will thank the author formally. If you recognize something of yours, I am already eternally in your debt. The masquerade ball idea comes in part from another god of an author, Piers Anthony.
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Dancing
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Damn! Ginny cursed under her breath. There he is again. God, he seems to be everywhere.
The fifth year redhead quickly found something in her bag to be interested in as the tall, striking Gryffindor Quidditch captain strode past. 'Something', however, turned out to be a romance novel her mother had tucked into her hands at the start of the year with an air of wistful nostalgia. Blushing fiercely at her unfortunately ironic 'choice', Ginny had to consciously force herself not to turn around and look for the receding back of Jason Thibeault. Weaving through the crowded hallways towards Charms, she couldn't help but wonder haw she had become so stupid-crazy over a boy. Embarrassingly, she found she knew exactly how.
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Earlier that year, Albus Dumbledore had decided (much to the chagrin to the majority of the senior staff) that one ball during the school year was simply not enough. Halloween was chosen as a suitable excuse for festivities, and a masquerade ball was planned. The 'masquerade' part of the ball was concocted as one-half evening entertainment, one-half lesson in Glamourie, and one-half unsuccessful discouragement of date-making. (The halves overlapped somewhat, but no one was quite sure how.)
After two weeks of excitement that rose as steadily and predictably as a tide, 'costumes' were decided on, practiced into the ground, and perfected. Ginny had to admit that when she entered the Great Hall for the first time that evening, she was surprised at the time and effort people had put into their Glamours. Their only guidelines were to arrive fully changed and unrecognizable, and of the same gender as per usual. Having been given these rules and told to make a splash, the Hogwarts population responded in force.
Ginny was assaulted from all sides by Muggle celebrities, magical beauties and abhorrances, and, of all things, a huge purple elephant with orange splotches shaped like roses. The youngest Weasley, with only a minor artistically creative streak, had settled on an extremely pretty if overly gaudy version of Aurora, a medieval potions mistress who accidentally drank some of her own primitive Draught of Living Death and waited some hundred years for an antidote to be invented.
Having steadfastly ignored the leering stares and catcalls coming from a group of apes in the corner of the Hall, Ginny told herself she would linger for only a few dances before escaping to the cool autumn night air and her own skin.
Before she could even make her way over to the refreshment table for punch, however, she was accosted by a lederhosen-clad sock salesman with a familiar twinkle in his eye, and asked to dance.
"I'd be delighted, Professor," she replies gravely, and allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor for a polka. When the dance was over, Ginny bid farewell to the Headmaster-Incognito and restarted her Quest for the Snack Table.
Cautiously avoiding some oversized garden gnomes in the middle of the dance floor, Ginny continued on her way to the punch bowl. Sipping over-daintily she surveyed the goings-on all around the Great Hall with detached interest.
The afore-mentioned gnomes had now cleared a large circle of the floor and were now performing an act she, unfortunately, knew all too well. It was an exuberant jumping, flopping and jerking routine that her brothers had also picked up over the summer with the Muggle television Dad had nicked from Ministry storage. Now graduated and well on their way to infamy with their joke shop, Fred and George were still a constant amusement at home. What was it they had called it? Shatter dancing? No, that wasn't it. Sighing, Ginny turned to look for Hermione, whose costume was a glowing, radiant dryad with wispy, strawberry blond hair and green-tinted skin. As she turned to scan the area next to the High Table she found herself staring into the most gorgeous brown eyes she had ever seen.
Surprised, she blinked, gaping as the medieval prince standing in front of her dropped into a half-bow, his eyes never leaving her own astonished brown ones. As he rose, the corners of his mouth turned up in a half smile, and he offered his arm,
"Shall we, fair princess?"
Closing her mouth quickly, Ginny gulped, plastered a suitably flattered smile on her face, took his arm, and allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor. A slow, beautiful waltz was emitting from one corner of the hall. Dumbledore, not particularly wanting a violent mutiny from the other professors, had hired a perfectly normal, sane, string sextet to play at the ball instead of the usual horrible wizarding pop music.
As he took her right hand in his left and placed his right hand on her shoulder blade, Ginny suddenly remembered she didn't know how to waltz.
"I don't know how to waltz," she blurted. Smooth, Weasley, smooth, she thought, kicking herself mentally. Her unknown prince smiled again, laughter playing in his eyes and on his lips.
"Well, then, princess, I guess I'll have to teach you."
Blushing furiously, Ginny interested herself in her feet until his gloriously delicious voice made her look up again.
"So…in the waltz, the basic idea is to float…not literally," he amended, seeing the slight astonishment in Ginny's eyes. "Muggles actually invented this in the 1700s – we sort of picked it up from them. Follow my lead; it goes kind of like this…slow, quick, quick, slow, quick, quick…"
He guided her slowly, not following the music but rather her own ability. Ginny felt a flood of warmth and satisfaction as she picked up the steps and they began to move around the dance floor. He was still talking, smooth as silk, and every time she missed a step or looked at her feet he was right there, talking her back into the rhythm of the dance.
His hand on her shoulder blade was like magic, a whisper of a touch telling her where to step next, guiding her around the Hall. It felt heavenly, like a light, knowing massage in an unexpected tender place.
When the song ended, Ginny stood, eyes closed, willing it not to be over. As he gently dropped her hand, he whispered into her ear one last thing before disappearing into the crowd.
"I'll find you for another dance."
When he was gone, Ginny still stood frozen to her place, the warmth and well-being she had felt slowly fading, leaving an unsatisfying, unsettling cold she was sure hadn't been there before.
The rest of the ball whizzed by in a foggy blur, with Ginny stumbling her way through perfunctory dances with a replicated Aiden Lynch and a clumsy, overgrown toad who could only be Harry and Neville, until Professor Dumbledore's magically-amplified voice rang through the crowded hall.
. "Please find a partner for the last dance – after which we will unveil our true identities." His Glamouried thumbs hooked through his Glamouried lederhosen, the headmaster was fairly buzzing with the excitement of the whole proposition.
Another waltz, faster than the first, began. Standing on her toes scanning the crowd, Ginny couldn't pick out the prince who had promised her the dance. Dropping back onto her heels, she had nearly turned to leave when she saw him weaving through the dancing couples towards her.
Trying desperately not to look too excited/relieved/desperate, she gracefully accepted his offered arm and swept onto the floor.
They were dancing with more energy and familiarity this time around, turning and twirling and even going backwards, once with Ginny catching him just before he ran into the huge purple and orange elephant who was dancing impossibly with a small pink faerie.
They chatted more easily this time, with his comments becoming more and more funny, entertaining. Once, he commented in an offhand sort of way, "You're the best partner I've had in a long time."
Ginny, thoroughly unused to such compliments, was surprised to hear herself say, with a slightly wicked smile, "How long is long? Five minutes, maybe?"
'Her' prince nearly started to protest, but changed his mind and chuckled lightly instead.
When the dance drew to a weary close (the musicians had been playing for well over three hours now) the twinkly sock salesman re-sonorused his voice and commanded, with a dramatic sweep of his wand –
-Finite Incantatem!-
With a shower of light, a grand puff of smoke, and a strange hissing sound, the Glamouries adapted by the whole Hogwarts population melted into a puddle of fizzled magic on the floor. Ginny, now a good four inches shorter, found herself staring up into the still-gorgeous chocolate eyes of Jason Thibeault, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain.
If he were surprised to find it was her, he was quick and effective at hiding it, as he looked at her with appraising eyes, said "Princess," softly once more with a hint of a smile and disappeared into the crowd of overexcited, oversexed teenagers.
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Yay! Celebration! My first chapter of my first (good, worthwhile, insert adjective here) story!!
So….The Big Question….WHAT HAPPENS???
Heh.
Review, plz…I'll try to get another chapter out soon. It is actually written, but I'm not the fastest typer in the world.