The Ice Queen
Taking a sip from the goblet, his black eyes scanned the Great Hall, narrowing every time he saw one of the students pressed too closely against another student. Honestly, how could anyone think it was perfectly acceptable, let alone 'fun', to rub up against a sweaty, disgusting body and wiggle their hips? Did they not know how ridiculous they looked? Better still, did they not know how damaging such loud music could be to their ears? Dunderheads.
"Shouldn't the band be softer?" he said, raising his voice over the constant thud. The marble beneath his feet was humming, only serving to further prove his point.
"Pardon?" Wilhelmina asked, her hips swinging to and fro as she observed the dance floor.
Turning around and placing the unfinished goblet of 'butterbeer' on the table, he tried again. "The band needs to be told to quieten down! The dimwits are already deaf enough!' He repeated, purposefully yelling into the bouncing witch's ears.
"Oh, lighten up, Severus," Pomona said, sidling up to them and clapping a hand on his shoulder. "It's only a bit of fun!"
Severus sneered down at her, horrified to see that her hips were also swinging, feet tapping the floor in time to the music. The day Dumbledore hired staff that were like-minded, was the day he would willingly give up on vying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post—in other words, it didn't seem he would be in luck anytime soon. Thankfully, the dreadful tune that was playing drew to a close, and another traditional, slower song played. Much better.
Minerva, the only staff member who had any hope of having sense about her, waltzed up to them. Her cheeks were flushed, but she was smiling, as though she found this frivolous event actually enjoyable.
"Uh oh, Severus, don't let Minnie see you not enjoying yourself. You might prove her theory about you correct," Pomona said, giggling as she nudged his shoulder again.
Severus glared down at her, a raised eyebrow the only indication that he was curious about what she had said. A theory about himself? How interesting. Pomona pretended not to notice his look, smiling at Minerva instead.
"Having fun?" she asked.
Minerva looked at her, before straightening up, a hand running over her hair with the reassurance that not a single strand was out of place. Only then did she nod and say, "Yes, thank you. It's been quite a pleasant evening so far, and the students seem to be behaving themselves."
"You're quite the dancer," Pomona continued, winking.
Honestly, how much had the Hufflepuff Head had to drink? Had one of the students—or rather, an identical pair—spiked one of the crystal balls placed around the room? He would have to find out, and perhaps have a valid excuse to give a detention this evening. Minerva seemed to have also fallen victim to the prank, for what other explanation could there be for her next reply?
"I'll take that as a compliment, Pomona. Yes, it is quite fun being out on the dance floor. Actually, I don't remember it ever feeling so...free," Minerva said.
Raising his eyebrows, Severus jumped in. "You've got to be jok—Tell me you are not serious, Minerva. Dancing? Fun? I thought you of all people would have the sense to know it is nothing more than a waste of time."
"Oh? And why would I think it was a waste of time, Severus?" she asked, meeting his gaze.
"Well, because you- well, you- I think…" he trailed off, for once unable to articulate the words he wanted to say. Well, for the second time in his life, anyway.
"Yes?" Minerva pressed.
Folding his arms, he said, "It's just a waste of time, that's all."
"I think you're right, Minnie," Pomona said with a giggle. "Severus is an ice queen."
"A what?" he gasped, looking at the two witches.
Wilhemina had snuck off sometime during the conversation, her feet getting the better of her. Even if she had remained there, Severus doubted she would back him up on the matter.
"An ice queen, Severus. I don't doubt for a moment that you do not have the skill to dance," Minerva said, eyeing his unmoving feet. "More that, you simply choose not to, leaving everyone with the assumption that you cannot enjoy social events or company."
"And? I fail to see how that could be a bad thing. What's to enjoy about them?"
Giving him the one look she knew he could not stand—pity—Minerva shook her head. "You are missing out."
"I hardly think so," he scoffed, arms still folded.
Missing out on what? Making himself look utterly ridiculous? Smelling the armpits of other dancers as they got to close?
"Don't worry Severus, the night's not over yet," Pomona said, moving to pat his shoulder sympathetically.
He moved away, shooting her a warning look. He was all too aware that he was forced to supervise such unruly brats for another few hours, despite the fact that he would much rather be in his study, finishing grading the slop his students had handed it the afternoon before.
Minerva wouldn't let up on the issue, however, and said, "Yes, the night isn't over, Pomona, but I'm afraid it's too late for our colleague. There is no way he'll ever manage to lose the ice queen image he has built up for himself over the years. In fact, it's simply not possible for some people when fun is not wired into their personality."
The same, condescending look of pity was back on her face as she looked at him. Losing the self-control he normally held, Severus could not help but meet her gaze and accept the challenge she offered.
"Do not underestimate me, Minerva," he said.
"Oh? You will dance with someone, then?" she asked.
"Well, no, not that, I'm saying that I could if I wante—"
"Let's have a little fun then, shall we? Pomona, you can be our witness. I bet that, by the time this evening is over, I will have danced with more partners than Severus will have," Minerva said, her blue eyes boring into his.
Severus narrowed his eyes, holding out his hand for the woman to shake. He knew he could beat her deal, no matter the sacrifice he would have to make. The look on her face when she was proved wrong would be more than enough for him, yet there was no harm in sweetening the deal, was there? The atmosphere must have been getting to him, for he suddenly felt daring.
"I accept. Let's make it a little more interesting, shall we? The winner does not have to perform detention duty for a month," he said, smirking. He loved handing out detentions and watching the look on his victims' faced, but he could do with a break from actually having to supervise them. Besides, he needed the time to come up with more creative punishments, with the good old cleaning out the cupboards becoming tiring.
"Make it two months, and it's a deal," Minerva said, grasping her hand.
Severus shook it, his smirk growing wider. Too easy.
"Well, then, shall we start by dancing with each other?" she asked, continuing to grip onto it.
Before he could protest, he found himself being dragged out onto the dance floor. A few students made room for them, their facial expressions ranging from curiosity to fear to amusement. Severus made note of those last few, determined that they be the first to receive a detention and make Minerva deal with them.
His older colleague turned him to face her, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiling. "Come on, Severus, place your hand on my waist. I don't bite, you know," she teased, eyes twinkling.
Clearing his throat and begging his cheeks not to burn, he dipped his head. "Of course." Then, placing a hand on the woman's waste, not meeting her eyes, he allowed her to take the lead.
"I think I was right; you do know how to dance," she said with a laugh, turning them around as the music picked up. "Although, I'll be watching to see how you fare with other dance styles."
"I don't doubt you will," he said, concentrating on his steps. He had to admit, his colleague was quite good at this, and he found himself wondering how many dances she might have attended in the past. It helped distract him from the continuous gawking from the students around them, as well as the knowing looks of some of the staff. Right gits they were.
Finally, the song came to a close and Minerva released him. He bowed slightly to her, ensuring that she could see that he was unfazed by the challenge—show your opponent that you are scared, and you may as well hand them the victory.
"From this point, we stand at one partner each," Minerva said. "I think I've found my next partner, try not to tire yourself, Severus," she added with an uncharacteristic wink, striding off to partner Filius.
Severus straightened his robes, scanning the crowd for a suitable candidate. Wilhemina was still busy, swinging around and clapping as she danced with Igor Karkaroff. If only the woman knew who he was. He could easily interrupt and get a dance with her out of the way, but his eyes clapped on someone much better.
Irma stood by a table, cold eyes moving from the drink bowl nearest her to the Weasley twins, who stood together chatting. The librarian would make an excellent partner, and perhaps when they were done, he could help her catch the redheaded jesters in the act of whatever they were planning.
Yes, winning was going to be much easier than he thought.
Minerva smirked over at him as she danced away with her ninth partner for the night. He returned the look, refusing to show her his worry. He was only on his seventh partner, and there was less than an hour before the ball officially came to an end. Though many of the staff remained, there were few viable options left.
The sensible thing to do, of course, would be to admit defeat, and allow Minerva a small victory. Unfortunately, the woman had cheated, and he would not allow her to refer to him as an ice queen without a fair fight. The woman had blatantly forgot to specify who their partners could be, and had danced with several of the female staff. What was more, she was now dancing away with Lee Jordan, who was trying not to laugh at her...original…moves. She had done that on purpose, knowing that he would never lower himself to dance with the male staff members of Hogwarts; Albus might have had a lot of practice with his moves, but there was no way the eccentric Headmaster would twirl him around the dance floor without being hexed. More importantly, there was no way in Salazar's name he would be caught dancing with any of his students. Teaching them most days was bad enough.
No, he would not admit defeat.
Stifling a yawn and avoiding being run into by a sixth-year Gryffindor couple giddily moving around the dance floor, he scanned the room. There had to be someone he could partner without feeling the need to vomit.
The doors to the hall slammed open at that moment, and in a flurry of blue dress robes, a woman stormed across the hall. No, make that a half-giantess. Severus watched her as she moved to the edge of the dance floor grinding her teeth and muttering about bones. She was a fearsome sight to behold, what with her blazing eyes and curled fists. No one in their right mind would approach her in such a mood. However, glancing at Minerva to see her smirk was still intact, he found that he was doing exactly that.
Striding over to Olympe, Severus extended his hand and bowed. "Care to dance, Madame Maxime?"
Looking up, he could see her eyeing him suspiciously, lips pursed. Nevertheless, she took his hand, and he did not risk the chance of losing her. Placing a kiss onto her pudgy knuckles and seeing her blush, he walked her out onto the dance floor.
The urge to poke his tongue out at Minerva was strong, yet he did not get the chance to do so. The Beuxbatons Headmistress wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him flat against her. Her other hand went to his back, the sheer size of it touching his behind instead. He let out a squeak as she all but lifted him off his feet and started to swing him around.
"You are zee most wonderful dance partner I 'ave ever 'ad," she said, almost crushing his lungs as their bodies swayed together. "None of zis silly talking about 'ow we look."
All he could do was nod his head, hoping that he would be able to breathe again. The woman set him back on his feet, humming as she stepped away and twirled in a circle. Severus attempted to stretch his aching fingers, only to have the woman squeeze them once more, taking them and leading him around the dance floor. At least she hadn't attempted to pirouette under his arm.
The song drew to a close yet Olympe held on, drawing breathe only to continue her monologue about dance partners. "Oui, dancing wiz you is much more agreeable," she said, shooting a glare over at someone behind Severus' shoulder. He tried to turn his head to see who it was, unable to crane his neck up any longer to look at the woman's face. Unfortunately, he was stopped by a pain shooting from his right foot up through his leg.
"Ahh!"
Looking down to see why his foot felt like it was on fire, he saw the woman's large, heeled foot lift off it. The pain became sharper, another wave of heat shooting through his leg as he moved it away from her clodhoppers, trying to flex his toes.
"Isn't zis zee most wonderful night you?" she asked, completely oblivious to his pain.
Severus bit his tongue, unable to drag his hands away from her firm grip. His foot was probably broken, the bones crushed beyond repair. His leg was beginning to feel numb and he couldn't feel his toes. His eyes darted about, hoping someone had heard his cry of pain—preferably Poppy, if she was available—to no avail. Those who remained on the dance floor swayed about, leaving the Potions Professor to blink back the tears stinging his eyes.
Mercifully, the song wound up and Olympe let go. As she said, "Zank you for zee wonderful time," and left him, he clutched his foot. There was no way he would be able to dance again; in fact, he would be lucky if he could ever walk again. He didn't blame the French woman, though—no, there was only one person to blame for his misery and pain.
Hopping towards the door, he brushed past Minerva, who had finished dancing around with Rolanda. Her eyes were full of concern as she saw his limp, but he cut her off before she could speak.
"You win, Minerva, you win. This will be the last time I dance."
Ignoring her as she called his name, he stumbled out of the hall and headed towards the safety of the dungeons. If he made it through the night and his foot didn't fall off completely, he would have plenty of time to come up with suitable revenge with his two months of detention duty.
He wouldn't fight it, either. After all, he would much rather be an ice queen than risk his body dancing any day.
A/N: This fic was written for the Fairy Tales Challenge on the DAII forum. The classic fairy tale this story is focused on is: The Snow Queen—Write about Severus Snape.
In the story, I mention that Severus refuses to dance with any male staff members. I do not mean that he is homophobic in any way; more that, it is a stretch for him to even dance with females doing nothing more than the traditional waltz. The day he boogies down with anyone—man or woman—is the day Voldemort grows another nose.
As usual, any and all feedback is welcome, and I truly hope you enjoyed this silly little tale about our favourite ice queen.