Two Left Feet

Chapter 11

"Familiars"

April 24, 2012

Ginny stood more than 20 feet away yet Harry was certain her ears learned something. She was looking towards Harry with a perplexed expression and she wanted to hear for herself from Harry what was said and if it was about her. Not wanting to spoil the evening and completely botch the New Years, Harry's next instinct was to lie. "Hermione and I were just talking. Nothing else."

Harry then sidestepped and retired into the house. Ginny was left standing with Hermione who shortly after also went inside, leaving Ginny alone. Hermione nearly careered after Harry, who had already climbed two flights of stairs. "Harry!" she called to him. "Harry, listen to me!"

But Harry headed into the room he was sharing with Ron and began yanking clothes from out of his trunks.

"Harry!" Hermione stood over him like a disappointed parent. "You cannot continue like this. I will not allow it. You are an adult and you must handle this accordingly, or so help me, I will deliver the baggage."

Harry stopped fumbling for a second then rushed to close the door. "You know it's difficult. And who it involves."

"You cannot keep Ginny as a fallback! If you have any self-regard for yourself or respect for Professor Snape you will understand the magnitude of this situation. If I were him, I would not consider someone who can't make up his mind about whom he will pursue a serious candidate for a relationship."

"I'm working on it."

Hermione stood tall then said calmly, "You are distrait!" She then proceeded to march haughtily from Harry's room, only to peer in one last second to say, "You cannot come to a decision because your adolescent hormones are still getting the best of you!"

The door then slammed shut before she heard Harry whisper, "Maybe tomorrow."

SEVERUSSNAPE SEVERUSSNAPE SEVERUSSNAPE

However things were not looking up the following day. Harry could not come to terms with himself and verily, he just wanted Snape to turn up at the door so he could see him again.

Hermione was probably the only one person there that noticed Ginny's response to Harry's evasions. She had long since taken note of Harry's antsy behaviours and she too was beginning to avoid Harry, or roll her eyes every time he came into the room then darted elsewhere as if she had pressing matters on holiday.

"I know things aren't like they used to be. I'm just waiting for him to approach me."

Hermione lowered her book slightly, but was unable to comment any further.

"I'm alright, though. I feel like we lost that passion some time back. Best not to force it."

"Have you thought about confronting Harry yourself?"

"Maybe I should. It doesn't seem like he'll find his balls before the holiday ends."

Ginny stood then left the room, heading in the exact direction Harry had gone. Hermione set her book aside. Things were unraveling faster than she anticipated; nevertheless it would be good for both of them to move on.

Harry was sitting on the back porch, watching gnomes scurrying in the gardens when Ginny nearly shouted at him, "Forgot you balls, Harry James Potter!"

Harry nearly jumped into the garden himself! And he most certainly was standing by the time Ginny finished her statement. "What did you say to me?"

"You heard me," she raised her head high and flicked back her red locks of hair, "You ball-less man."

Hermione was standing nearby, and she had slapped her hand over her mouth in order to keep herself from laughing. She never recalled a time either her or Ron made a comment about Harry's balls. At the present moment, she knew Harry would not incur the loss of dignity and would rather face her.

Ginny then stepped forward and nearly shoved her chest at him. Harry stood taller and then Ginny withdrew her wand. Forgetting his back in the room, Harry began to make hasty steps backwards as Ginny charged at him and soon, they were far out into the snow and Hermione could no longer hear them, except for the occasional yelp and laughter. They were playing in the snow like they used to before - throwing snow balls, playing tag, pushing one another over. But only minutes later did they settle down to what Hermione hoped was a serious talk.

They stayed like that for a while so Hermione returned to reading her book.

Perhaps an hour later, Harry walked into the room and plopped down next to Hermione on the couch. "So?" she asked.

He looked at her. "She's frank. At least it was easy," they both smiled and Harry personally felt like he had un-heaved a heavy load. "Oh, and I didn't spoil the holidays."

HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER

Molly was hustling about the drawer room, counting heads and making sure everyone had their poppers, glasses, and hats. She was sporting a hat that flared little fireworks and Arthur hat was charmed to countdown and then cheer.

Ginny and her brothers were chattering and dancing around the room. Ron and Hermione were curled up on the couch whispering things to one another and Harry was watching the clock. Soon it would be countdown and everyone would be cheering to the new years. Harry took the initiative and slipped out before anyone could encourage his participation. Just outside the house Harry found comfort in the cool breeze and the way the snow crunched beneath his weight. He would have liked to have stayed here all night, if it weren't for the possibility that he would freeze within just a few hours. He pulled his coat over his face and huffed against its fabric. The land beyond was tranquil and dark, with nothing but the moon to light patches of snow and the tops of trees. Harry leaned against the house and closed his eyes. Already he could hear everyone preparing for the countdown, and the occasional 'where's Harry?' It was enough to make him chuckle.

Then suddenly he heard the shifting and crunching of snow. His eyes flared open, expecting to see some sort of wild beast, or at least a garden gnome. What he saw instead was Ginny. Her hair was down, her posture was stiff, and she was wearing an oversized coat and boots. Harry shifted slightly, unnerved by her dead, unblinking stare. "Ginny?"

She took a step forward and Harry was nearly ready to blurt his excuse for slipping away when suddenly Ginny pushed him hard against the wall. That's when Harry noticed she was not wearing the same outfit from just a minute ago. "You changed."

Still, she said nothing and her eyes remained riveted to him as if she was searching, waiting, calculating. Verily, this creped Harry out. "Um, Ginny? You alright?"

From inside the house, the countdown had begun, "Ten!"

The only pressing thought in Harry's mind was Ginny's queer fixed look. "Shouldn't you be inside?"

Finally a response! She smirked and somehow Harry felt his gut twisting.

"Five!"

The next numbers faded before they could touch Harry's ears, and this was due to Ginny, who had covered Harry's eyes with her hand and was leaning in rather slowly, as if expecting resistance on Harry's part. No resistance was met, and so her lips tentatively touched Harry's and though they remained there for only a short while, she gasped and tore herself away from Harry as if he had done something she didn't approve of. Her eyes then narrowed as they searched his rather curious countenance. "We should be doing this, Ginny. You said you wanted to move on, and so did I." Harry tried to explain meekly. He really did not know what to say in these queer situations.

Ginny's brow rose inquisitively, and then she turned from him quickly and fled. It was only a second later that Harry caught a whiff of something comforting and familiar, and Harry wasn't sure if it were from her or the gentle breeze. Either way, he too turned and went back into the house. His eyes sought for Ginny, but instead of playfully hiding herself as Harry suspected she would, she was sitting on the couch with her brothers, talking loudly about a prank George had pulled on Percy one Christmas many years ago. How far she was into the story and how everyone sat around her made it seem like she had never left. Her clothes were different too. She had on a thick green sweater and jeans with thick, cozy red socks. Harry was staring blatantly at her, and she noticed rather quickly. "Come sit down you goof and stop staring," she then turned back to her brothers to finish her account on the story.

For the second time that night, Harry felt his stomach twisting with uncertainty, but he really did not want to dwell on the possibility that Ginny knew how to be in two different places at once. It was her alright. Harry was sure of that. Maybe she threw that oversized coat somewhere. Harry's eyes scanned the room briefly before he concluded was overacting on a silly, minuscule thing. He mentally shrugged it off and plopped down next to Ron, who was busy feasting on a bowl of chocolate covered something. Only a handful of days remained for their time at the Burrow, and though Harry was having a lovely time here, he had a truly pressing matter to return to.

SEVERUSSNAPE SEVERUSSNAPE SEVERUSSNAPE

At last the day came when Harry and his friends would return for the last segments of their semester at Hogwarts' school. To say Harry was palm sweaty excited to return would be an understatement. His hands were twitching like he was imagining himself air playing an instrument, and his leg was thumping the floor in an uneven tempo. At times, Hermione even caught Harry whispering incoherent words to himself while his eyes remained fixed on a corner. "Blimey, Harry." Ron finally said when he had had enough. "What did you eat for breakfast?"

"Bread. Eggs. Bread? I donno!"

Since Ron knew nothing of Harry's newfound affections towards their professor, he remained in a blur. Hermione, on the other hand, had her suspicions that Harry's restless acts were partly due to their every approaching tryst. She, though, found nothing about Harry's impatient behaviour cute. It was distracting her from her readings.

By the time the train had pulled into the station, it had begun to snow again and everything outside the train seemed to be covered in a white, even blanket of snow. It was getting dark, it was freezing, and Harry was bouncing on the tips of his toes trying to get around other students. "Where did he go?" asked Ron.

"He ran off!" Hermione yanked Ron's arm in the only direction Harry could have gone. Harry was careering fast, as if there were a monster at his feet only inches away from snapping his feet and tripping him.

By the time they had reached the wagons, Harry was nowhere in sight. Hermione stood there with her hand on her hip in slight disbelief.

Harry was steadily approaching the front gates and with his newfound excitement, his twitchy behaviour begun anew. If the other students in the wagon with him noticed, they did not show it.

Upon reaching the gates, Harry jumped off the wagon before it had even come to a complete stop. Though the road was covered in ice and incredibly slippery, Harry managed to make haste pass the gates and up the slopes towards the castle, which glistened like a beacon and lit up the night sky for miles.

He was not the first to arrive at the castle and just behind him were many more students shuffling up the slopes, weary from their long trips and already aching with hunger. Harry had much more pressing matters on his mind than food and really his stomach felt too queasy for a meal. He was just pondering on where he should go, or if he should even attempt to look for this bitter older wizard. He might've even been present in the Great Hall, already sitting at his seat and waiting for dinner to start. Or he might be in his office, preparing lectures with which to bore, confuse, and challenge his students. If he were in his private chambers, Harry would not know where to look. Harry sighed, defeated. He would just have to hope that Snape was feeling hungry and would grace him with his presence at dinner.

Just as Harry stepped on the path towards the Great Hall though, his ears heard music fading just the slightest and it wasn't until then that he noticed music playing. No one else seemed to have heard it and with newfound hope Harry slipped off to find the source of that soft melody. Time slowed after that and with every foot step, Harry felt like he was going nowhere, like he was never going to reach the source, but the music grew ever clearer, ever stronger, it was vibrating in his ear and then he had walked pass a door and was greeted from within. "Mr. Potter," said a rich voice woven with silk. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER HARRYPOTTER

It wasn't a simple thing really. This dance he was being instructed to do. As it were, the Waltz challenged him with its most rudimentary of steps, and Snape hardly made things easier. But Harry soon found himself being led, whether forward or astray, he did not care. Harry just determined that relying on Snape to guide him flowed naturally. His arms raised Harry's with minimal touches. Then Snape shaped Harry's posture with the slightest pressure from his torso. "Forward," he whispered, "Count with me. One, two, three. "

At this moment, Snape stepped away from his young student to observe supposed fruits of his labour. However, with each carefully taken step, Snape found himself looking less and less upon the grace of Harry's feet and more at the curvature of Harry's neck. Snape cleared his throat in the moment of weakness and resituated himself. "Have you been practising?"

Without fumbling over his footage, Harry replied, "As often as privacy allowed me."

"That tells me nothing."

Harry chuckled, "Every night, sir." Then the professor raised a hand to his chin pensively and Harry had to add, "Alone."

The professor crossed his arms and Harry knew that was as much of an approval as he would get. It felt enlightening really, having to assure his professor of something that was never promised, but to Harry it awarded him comfort and advancement in this game. "Keep with the tempo and try not to be so stiff," Snape said flatly.

It was a different ordeal entirely dancing with oneself and pried from the guidance of another. Harry found it hardly beneficial except for recalling routine steps. Without a partner, Harry rarely focused on his position and flow of his arms or anything above his torso for that matter. His head was mostly slung over watching his feet and occasionally bumping into furniture. A week into his isolated practises and Harry was absentmindedly missing Snape and his guidance. It had then become something that Harry could only understand in feelings and within himself. This yearning for someone for more than just… educational purposes.

Harry footing had become sloppy and Snape was quick to act. He gripped Harry by the waist and brought him back into proper stance. "Perhaps, you've had enough for tonight."

"No, I'm fine, really, it's just a little different when you have no dance partner."

The tone of Snape's voice dipped as he whispered uncomfortably close to Harry's ear, "Was that an excuse?"

Harry shuddered and his knees almost bucked. The way Snape interacted with him had long since surpassed the appropriate boundaries between a teacher and their student and still… everything he did made Harry swoon. Merlin, how Harry loved the way his professor baited him. "No, sir."

"Then we are done for tonight."

Harry motioned to move away when suddenly he felt the iron grip of his professor withholding him from taking another step further. Harry looked up and then was wrenched forwards and back into Snape's arms. "Learn from me," he would have to make this pellucid.

The professor's moves were swift, balanced and confident. He swirled around and brought Harry even closer until Harry could feel Snape's afternoon shadow against his temples. "This isn't about repetition. Nor is it about feelings, Potter. To dance is to learn to make art. Understand the language of the bodies. Show me discipline. Demonstrate confidence. Focus on something other than how I feel against you."

Then there was an intruding knock upon the door that was fierce and impatient. Snape was quick and had moved away from Harry as he waved his hand and the door opened. Harry flushed with guilt when the person behind the door was none other than Hermione. Her knowledge of his intentions towards Snape made him wish he could coil away and hide behind something. "Yes, Ms. Granger?"

"Um, Harry wasn't at dinner and we were looking for him."

Harry had a pressing urge to chuckle. He was sure that wasn't the real reason she came looking for him.

"Good evening then, Mr. Potter." Snape turned and strutted out door before Harry could have another word and Hermione's eyes fell upon him heavily. She shook her head and pursed like a parent about to scold a child.

She then walked forwards towards him and in a hushed, yet irritated voice she asked him, "What are you thinking?"

"We were just reviewing steps, I promise."

"Not that, silly. I mean, how is it that you come to him the first hour of the first night here? You couldn't even wait until classes started tomorrow? You make yourself seem too eager, Harry. How do you expect for him to seek you if you come to him at every call?"

These were one of those exceptional times when Harry wished Hermione was wrong. For the duration of their walk back together to the Gryffindor House, Hermione berated him for his availability and out of control hormones. Harry only walked beside her with a slumped head. He wished this wasn't entirely his fault.