Adjusting her white dress robes, Aindora took a deep breath before stepping into the ballroom of Fawley Manor. The Fawleys were not regular hosts, but they did an admirable job this Easter. Aindora could not enjoy the events, however. She was busy wishing she had picked a less conspicuous color, because everywhere she looked it seemed that Black and Cromwell were both watching her.

"'Dora," Eoladra said, grinning as she came up beside her in beautiful, flowing blue dress robes, an old pair of Aindora's that fit her sister perfectly. "You look so nice."

"Thank you, so do you," Aindora said, more of habit than anything, but not as a lie. Her sister really did look very pretty.

"Peter Cromwell can't take his eyes off you," Eoladra said, giggling. "Or maybe he's just worried you'll do something to make him look a fool."

Aindora pursed her lips, fuming. She was tired of the way Peter Cromwell constantly returned fire when she was only protecting herself and her friends when she attacked him. Couldn't he just accept that he was beaten?

"He can manage that all on his own," she said darkly. "I'm just glad that I'm not obligated to dance with him if he asks."

Eoladra glanced out at the crowd and said, "Will you dance with Alphard Black if he asks?"

Aindora rolled her eyes at her sister, looking across the room to see Peter Cromwell watching her, not listening at all to the friend who was speaking to him. He didn't bother looking away when he saw her looking at him, just smiling weakly. Aindora's nostrils flared at his audacity and she turned away, leading her sister to the refreshments.

"Why do you do it?" Eoladra asked, accepting the punch Aindora handed her. "The pranking, I mean. It's sort of base."

Pouring her own glass of punch, Aindora said, "It's the only language that idiot understands."

Eoladra raised an eyebrow over one of her brilliant blue eyes and said, amused, "So you're saying you're dropping do his level."

No one knew how to frustrate Aindora like her little sister, and at this jab Aindora felt a rush of frustration. Had they been at home she might have thrown something – something soft like a pillow – at her sister. Because they were in public, however, Aindora simply gave her sister a disapproving look and said, "You know perfectly well that's not what I mean."

As soon as they arrived home for Easter holidays, Aindora's father sat her down and gave her some stern words about the letters he had been receiving from Headmaster Dippet about her behavior. She explained to him that it wasn't her fault, that Peter Cromwell was doing the same or worse to her and that she was merely defending herself.

While her father fought to hide his amusement, that did not lessen the fact that he was exceptionally disappointed in her behavior, and Aindora was still struggling with the weight of that disappointment. In some ways she understood what her sister meant, that Peter Cromwell wasn't worth it. On the other hand, the fury she felt when he pranked her or her friends blinded her to any rational thought about the matter, and the only thing that she wanted to do was get back at him as scathingly as possible to ensure he never did it again.

In his chiding of his daughter, Aindora's father had mentioned pride. It never occurred to her, in the moment or after, that she had an issue with pride, although she frequently accused Cromwell of the sin. To hear her father use that particular word had stung almost as much as his disappointment itself.

"You know what Black says about the whole thing, of course," Eoladra said with a sniff as they moved away from the refreshment table. Cromwell was inching his way closer and Aindora didn't want to make it easy for him to approach her.

"Hmm?"

"He takes it as a sign that you've made your choice."

Aindora stopped dead in her tracks, her stomach dropping. This was exactly the sort of thing she worried about when it came to her battle with Peter Cromwell. If Black couldn't see by now that she wasn't choosing between them, but that both had to win her over if they ever had a prayer (and she wasn't convinced either did).

"They're both coming," Eoladra said, frowning. Aindora glanced around and saw that her sister was right. Both boys were approaching her, each with the intent of asking her to dance, obviously. Eoladra actually looked a bit concerned, as they appeared to have noticed that they were both approaching, and had begun to race each other as nonchalantly as possible so that the other guests did not notice.

But of course, everyone noticed. Those two were impossible not to notice on their own, and when they were both doing something they were the center of attention. Aindora just wished that they didn't always converge on her when they felt like causing a scene.

"I love you," Eoladra said nervously, "but I'm going to find Linn."

"No," Aindora said, whinging slightly. "No, please, don't leave me by myself!"

"You've got this under control," she said, winking as she walked away. "If they don't behave, just hex them."

Easy for her to say, Aindora thought bitterly as she smoothed her robes, looking for somewhere to run and hide. Unfortunately, no such place seemed to exist, and she braced herself, knowing that whichever boy reached her first she would almost have to dance with in order to avoid them causing a scene about her. She took a few steps away from the dancing, just to make it a bit harder for them. She hated when they did this, when they put her in a tight spot, but sometimes things just had to be faced. Aindora set down her punch glass on the side table in order to be prepared to dance quickly with the winner, and she turned around to find Alphard smiling at her, holding out a hand to take hers.

"Aindora," he said, only slightly smug. "Would you dance with me?"

"Sure," she said, taking his hand and letting out her held breath slowly so he didn't notice. She tried to ignore the frustration on Peter Cromwell's face, but he had the first dance with her at Christmas so she didn't see how he could complain. Especially after the pranks.

"Cromwell looks a bit sour," Alphard said, teasing as he put his hand on her waist.

She wished he would have brought up something else, but she just hummed agreement.

"I loved what you did last week," he said, grinning. "Peaches, of all things."

"Well, it seemed appropriate, given what he did to my hair," Aindora sniffed, both frustrated at the conversation and finding it difficult to think about something other than how perfect Alphard looked when he smiled, like something in a painting. "My father isn't pleased, anyway. He got rather a lot of letters from the school and he doesn't think it's becoming."

"It's not, that's why I love it," Alphard said with a laugh.

Aindora really didn't know how to take that. She thought of herself as a lady, and the fact that Alphard didn't seem to appreciate that was a bit jarring. Still, with the way he was looking at her, the way his hand was sweaty against her hand, she had a feeling he really did appreciate something about her. And as frustrating as the whole scenario was, she couldn't help feeling flattered that he found her fascinating.

"What would he rumor mill do without it, anyway?" he said, winking.

He shouldn't be allowed to wink. He was too attractive when he did that. Her stomach did strange things in response to his winks.

"I expect they'd come up with something better to do with their time," she said, sniffing. "It's not as though it's that interesting."

"You're joking," he said, eyebrows leaping up his forehead. "Baby Bird, you are basically a Hogwarts celebrity. And let's face it, Cromwell is very…popular. And you two do have some pretty spectacular battles. I mean, you're very creative."

He winked again. She wished he would stop doing that, and she felt her cheeks flushing. Then she wished she hadn't done that, because this seemed to embolden him, and he held her a bit closer, his lips twitching into that smug grin.

"I've been thinking," he said, leaning a bit closer. She glanced over his shoulder and saw Peter Cromwell turning absolutely purple as he watched them. "There's a Hogsmeade day coming up."

"When?" she asked, trying to focus on his words instead of the way Cromwell was watching.

"I don't remember, but soon. We should go together." Aindora bit down on the inside of her cheek to hide her frustration. "I was thinking maybe we could go for a walk through the village, maybe go toward the mountain."

"Alphard," she said, as kindly as she could, "I don't think so."

He shrugged, unconcerned, and said, "Well I guess we could always do Zonko's or something. I bet you could find something really good to use on Cromwell."

His eyes glittered with mischief and she felt slightly sick to her stomach.

"No," she said softly. "No, I mean, I don't think we should go to Hogsmeade together on the next trip."

His feet actually stopped in their tracks and he stared at her like he didn't quite understand what she'd said. His mouth moved without words, and after several moments his face twisted slightly, pained.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, and Aindora felt strangely cornered. "It's just that I thought we were enjoying each other's company, and—"

"Alphard, it's nothing to do with that," she said, glancing around, wishing he'd be a bit more discrete. Other people would start to notice, and then Peter might notice, and that would be the beginning of a disaster.

"Then what?"

She glanced over at her sister, who was chattering away with Linn Selwyn, oblivious.

"I just don't feel like the timing is very good," she said softly. "We have exams coming up, and I've been spending a lot of time doing…extracurricular things."

His face had some recognition as he glanced over at Peter Cromwell, and then back.

"Right," he said, a bit relieved. "Well, I guess I don't see why we couldn't…. But then, it's up to you. I understand."

He took her hand again and began to dance once more, finishing out the song. His body was tense, not the smooth and relaxed motions he'd had when they started, but he was still naturally able to fall right back onto the beat.

"Maybe next time," he said, smiling at her as the song ended.

"We'll see," she said, giving him an apologetic smile.

"Another dance?"

"Ah, no, thank you, I think I'll rest for now."

He nodded, kissing her hand before letting her walk off to the table. He had to dance with his sister, so she watched him walk over to where Walburga was standing, whispering away with their mother, probably about Aindora. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at what the women were saying about her, no doubt gossipy things about Alphard's chances of courting her properly. Why it interested Walburga more than her own love life boggled Aindora's mind.

She was finally starting to relax, hoping she would have a bit of time to enjoy the party before it was over. Her eyes surveyed the snacks, but none of them looked appetizing. She told herself that if she went for a walk in the garden perhaps she would be hungry, but then her father was in the garden, and she had been avoiding him while she digested his response to her many detentions. Perhaps if she went to talk with her sister and Linn…. But then she didn't want to disrupt their time every time she was feeling overwhelmed with her own life.

Her chest tightened, however, when Peter Cromwell appeared across the table from her, smiling his most charming smile.

Those damn boys and their charming smiles. They just didn't know how to be unattractive. She toyed with the idea of tossing punch in his face just for looking at her like that, but she decided not to. With her luck, that would be when her father entered.

"You look beautiful tonight, Miss Rovigatti," he said, and she almost laughed at how formal he sounded.

"And I don't every other night?" she countered coolly.

His mouth flopped open and closed a few times and she didn't bother to hide her triumphant smirk as he turned pink.

He recovered more quickly than she expected, however, and he said, "You know perfectly well that you always look exquisite. I was merely saying that you look especially so tonight."

She would never admit it, even to herself, but he'd come up with a pretty good answer to one of the most impossible questions she'd ever asked. Instead she just frowned at him, holding her head high.

"Dance with me," he said, holding out a hand.

Not a question, not a request, not even a suggestion. He had the nerve to just assume that she would dance with him.

"Do you honestly think," she said, seething, "that after everything that's happened this year, that I would voluntarily dance with you?"

He tilted his head, slightly confused.

"Yes," he said slowly.

She scoffed and said, "Cromwell, have you forgotten what you did to my hair last week?"

He turned pink again and he said spluttered for a moment before saying, "That's not…. I didn't mean to upset you, but you did turn my fingernails into cheese."

Her lips twitched, but she fought to urge to laugh.

"Oh, you absolutely meant to upset me, because I hurt your pride!"

"Pride?" he said, snorting slightly. "Who's the proud one? Come on, dance with me. I promise you'll enjoy it."

Aindora narrowed her eyes.

"You don't have one of those ridiculous Muggle contraptions they're stocking at Zonko's these days on your hand, do you?"

He held out his hands, smiling that too-attractive smile to show that they were empty.

"No zappers here, I assure you," he said, almost gently, and he leaned across the table a bit. "I wouldn't do anything to embarrass or hurt you."

"Not here, you mean," she said coolly. "You only do those things at Hogwarts."

He seemed startled by this perfectly honest assessment, but as usual for Cromwell, he didn't let his surprise hold him down for long, and he continued to press her for a dance. They went back and forth like that for nearly five minutes and she grew tired of him, but couldn't see any excuse to get away that wasn't Alphard Black. And that was the last thing she wanted. Squabbling with Cromwell was better than Cromwell and Black dueling in the middle of Fawley Manor.

"C'mon, don't be a coward," he pressed. "Dance with me."

"Coward?" she said, a smirk twisting at her lips, while inside she was fuming. How dare he? How dare he speak to her that way! "I'm not a Gryffindor, Cromwell. I can't be coaxed into all manner of stupidity with the threat of cowardice if I don't comply. I'm not that proud."

He laughed and shook his head and said, "You've got plenty of pride, and just because being called a coward doesn't worry you doesn't mean you won't dance with me. I just haven't found the right tack yet."

"Just leave me alone."

"You don't really want that."

"No, I really do," she said coolly. "You and Black, you always seem to think I've nothing better to do than to entertain your ridiculous behavior and absurd notions. I have a life outside of either of you."

Now he was smirking, out and out smirking. He was so smug, so bold, so bloody attractive and it really wasn't fair.

"Be honest, Rovigatti," he said teasingly. "Before I came over here, you were bored. You weren't doing anything, weren't talking to anyone. You should be thanking me for joining you. I know you thrive on the attention."

Aindora was about a minute away from throwing punch at him after all, not carrying what anyone else thought. She took several steps away from the beverage to keep herself from doing something she would ultimately regret. The last thing she wanted was to upset the Fawleys, and thereby her father. But really, the safest thing for everyone would be if Peter Cromwell would leave her alone.

Naturally, he didn't seem capable of doing this seemingly simple task, and he kept smirking at her, so smug, so handsome, so sure of himself.

"Dance with me," he said once more, and Aindora felt a remarkable wave of rage and frustration overcome her.

A moment later, she realized that Peter Cromwell was covered in punch and everyone was staring at them. It took her a second to realize that the punch bowl had exploded, and that nearly all of it had gone on Crowmwell. She saw her father coming in from the gardens and taking in the scene and she felt a wave of panic. She didn't know what happened. One moment he was smug and asking her to dance and the next he was covered in punch.

Her father's face had an expression she had never seen before, and he said something briefly to Madam Selwyn, who nodded, almost greedily, before he crossed to Aindora.

"Father, please, I didn't—"

"Excuse me, Peter," he said sternly. "My daughter and I are leaving. Apologies."

Peter Cromwell was so stunned by everything that had just happened that he said nothing, but Aindora recognized, uneasily, as he father led her out that Peter Cromwell was looking at her like he'd never seen anything more ideal. The strange butterflies in her stomach from that look mixed poorly with the nerves from what her father would say as he led her away.

"I didn't do anything," she said, panicked as they reached the grounds of Fawley Manor. "Please, I don't know what happened."

"I know," he said urgently. "But we're going home. We need to have a chat, darling. A very important one."