Someday, I will own something of great importance. This will not be Harry Potter, as it is already owned by J K Rowling.

Morale is Low

"Minerva?"

"Albus?" McGonagall replied cautiously. He had a positively unholy look in his eye. "What are you planning now?"

"I think that the school needs a morale boost."

Finding nothing immediately dangerous about that statement, she said, "Go on…"

"Minerva, let's plan a ball!"

"… A ball?" she replied, aghast. "Albus, do you remember how much work the last one was? And that was before all of the new Ministry imposed Security measures. We'd never get a band in, and the decorations would never go over…"

"So, we'll scrounge together a magical gramophone, or comb the school for students and teachers who're willing to take a turn playing!" he said insistently. "We need to do something, Minerva. Something beautiful, something completely for the purpose of frivolous enjoyment."

"I agree with you in principle, Albus…" she protested. "But really! We're having a hard enough time keeping the school open and free of Ministry influence as it is!"

"All the more reason to do this!" he said, his eyes bright and earnest. "It's vital we keep that taste of freedom. And make sure the taste stays sweet in our minds."

Minerva was caving, as she knew she would. As she always did. "Albus… sometimes I really detest you."

"I know," he said, eyes twinkling. "I'd rather have your hatred than anyone else's love."

"Oh, shut up," she mumbled, blushing. She swept out, hearing his chuckle behind her as she slammed the door.

-

So, when Ryua was allowed to go to classes the next day, it was to hear a rather welcome announcement. Card said it with his normal, cool attitude of course, but the entire class was instantly buzzing. "A dance? We're actually getting a dance?" Hermione whispered excitedly.

"This is going to be SO much better than the last one," Ryua laughed, almost giggling. "On account of no fiancés…"

"Or foreign exchange students," Hermione agreed.

Ryua grinned. "I'll tell Harry to knock some sense into Ron's head this time, eh?"

"Don't do that!" Hermione squealed, although she didn't really look much against the idea.

Their conversation was cut short, by Card's sudden continuation. "And I'll be teaching you lot how to dance… because Minerva refused this time. I can't imagine why…" he said dryly. "That's what your next Defense classes will be devoted to, Dumbledore's orders."

"Dumbledore is ordering us to take dance lessons?" Ron said, aghast. "He's mental!"

"Seriously, Ron," Ryua said, poking him. "Men who can dance are sexy. There's just no other way to put that. Therefore, you should learn. Both of you, for that matter." She included Harry in that statement, who promptly stopped laughing at Ron and paled.

"She's right," Neville said, leaning forward from behind them. "I was downright popular in our fourth year, at that ball. And that's saying something."

"You see? Don't want to be shown up by Neville, do you?" Hermione teased, smiling gratefully at the boy. She didn't want to end up sitting bored all night long.

The conversation would have escalated then, but Card's voice cut sharply across them. "This isn't an option, by the way. Boys had just better hope that there are some ladies capable of teaching you… or you'll be partnering me." He grinned wickedly, making a few girls swoon at the idea. The class cleared very quickly for lunch after that statement.

"So, Neville… better get asking Cassie, eh? She'll be peeved if she has to go with someone else." Ryua said, poking him on the way to the Great Hall.

He sputtered, going red. "Cassie? She… I, um…"

"Ask her, Longbottom," Ryua repeated, rolling her eyes. "Trust me. And she's not from a family deeply involved with the Death Eaters either, you'll be perfectly safe."

Luckily for Neville, they got to the Great Hall then, and he could peel away without having to answer her. Ryua chuckled, walking towards her own table. The other teachers had apparently all given the same announcement, with Card being the teacher. It appeared that five days worth of Defense classes were just going to be voided for the entire school. Even the younger students were allowed to attend this one, as a group of very, very excited first-year girls were giggling about. The dance was set to start the last evening of school before the holiday, at 6:00, and the fourth and under years had a curfew of 9:00. It looked like Dumbledore was removing all other curfew restrictions, except for the no-exceptions rule of leaving the grounds.

"He really wants us to enjoy ourselves," Draco said, grinning. "No curfew? Yeesh… he's either getting senile or really, really cool."

"Really, really cool is my vote," Ashley said cheerfully. "Although McGonagall did stress that the gender restrictions on our dorms are staying in full force."

"She would," Ryua laughed, rolling her eyes. "I don't care though. This is going to be so much fun."

-

Card seemed to take to his new teaching job with a surprisingly good humor. Every meal, students were talking about how the lessons had gone, and the skill of their teacher. "Is there anything that man can't do?" Goyle growled one time, after a particularly praising bunch of third-year girls came back from their class. The boys were starting to feel a little put out by their sudden lack of attention.

"Haven't found anything yet, no," Ryua said calmly. "But you could just learn to dance, and then you wouldn't be jealous, hmm?"

"Not jealous…" Crabbe pouted, Goyle nodding sullenly. Ryua just chuckled and ate some more soup. They finally had their first class that afternoon, and the Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth-years were just a little nervous, or excited depending who you talked to.

The Defense room had been cleared of desks, the chairs lined up along the walls. McGonagall's gramophone was in one corner, with Card leaning against it. "Come in, sit down, and close the door. I find you get less distracted when there's nobody spying."

They filed in, somewhat reluctantly in a few cases, and Ryua shut the door, taking the seat closest to it. Paranoia… she liked being next to the escape route. Card looked over the class. "I only have… three classes to teach you lot how to dance," he said, walking slowly to the centre of the room. "I'd rather have three years. However, this should be enough to at least get the basics through the thickest skulls here. Now, do any of you actually know how to dance?"

A silent pause filled the room, then Parvati's, Ryua's, and Draco's hand rose into the air. Parvati's voice was actually rather proud, if a little fangirlish, "My sister and I have been dancing since we were three, sir, our mother taught us."

"Good." He said, nodding sharply. "So, at least you know how to move. What kind of dance?"

"Erm… different kinds of traditional dance?" she said, her eyes wide. The family was from India a generation back, giving the twins dark hair, enviably clear, dark skin, and incredibly soft, dark eyes, coupled with a real sense of graceful movement.

"Ah. Then you'll pick up on this quickly enough," he said. "You two, Malfoys. Ballroom dances?"

"Every kind on the face of the earth, I think," Ryua replied good-naturedly. Draco nodded, looking much more like his usual cocky self now.

"Then you come up here, Ryua," he said, beckoning her forward. "And we can show what we'll be teaching them. A waltz, for basics, and a tango for those more adept."

She grinned broadly. If he was half as good as the scuttlebutt said, this was going to be a lot of fun. The music started with a gesture from his hand, and she found herself swung into a simple, elegant waltz. He was definitely good. This was the calmest, most proper of the dances, and she could still feel the pure physical attraction of him. Oddly, it didn't bother her in the slightest. Apparently their incident earlier had removed any awkwardness.

"See? Simple enough," Card said, lifting Ryua from the last Waltz pose of the song. As the music ended, he let her go, looking around the class with a faint sense of amusement. About half the students looked relieved, and half looked bored out of their minds. "And now, for those of you who think that's far too tame and boring…" He flicked his fingers at the gramophone again, and the first slow, stirring strains of a Cuban air filled the room.

Ryua let a brief grin cross her face before she schooled her expression into one properly desirous and aroused for the music. Card's hand touched hers briefly, and they exchanged a quick glance before looking sharply away, as if they couldn't bear the sight of the other. The music started into a heavy, intoxicating beat, and she lost herself in the dance.

It was easy to do with a partner as skilled as Card was. She actually found herself wishing she was still attracted to him, so she could really, fully enjoy the experience. As it was, she felt completely uninhibited, receiving and returning the caresses inherent in the dance, pressing her body to his lithe, powerful one, spinning sharply out with the jerks of his arm, falling hard against him when he pulled her back close. By the time the dance was over, the room was deadly silent, and several of the boys were sitting with their legs crossed. Ryua stalked from his side, refusing to look at him, keeping in the spirit of the performance. Until she made it to her chair, and sat down, grinning giddily as she caught her breath. "I believe you could all manage to believe this isn't an old-fashioned, straight-laced idea then?" Card said lightly, his own chest heaving. "We'll start by partnering up, and I'll teach you the basic steps."

He had absolutely no argument for the rest of the class.

-

"Aren't you going to report him for handling you like that?" Pansy said, wide-eyed, after they were dismissed.

"Mmm?" Ryua asked, surprised that Pansy had spoken to her. Apparently, this sexy tidbit about the teacher overrode the fear that had kept her away. "No, of course not. Why… did we come across a little strong?"

"Um…" Pansy said, swallowing. She was easily intimidated, even when Ryua was barely trying. She pretended interest in a group of passing fourth-year Slytherin girls, and left quickly. Ryua chuckled, and walked ahead to Hermione's group.

"When did you learn to move like that?" Hermione asked, her eyes sparkling. "That was incredible! Did you practice?"

"I learned when I was young… well, not too young, for that dance," she said, grinning. "And no, that was spontaneous. Incredible what you can do when your partner knows how to lead…"

"That wasn't just leading," Ron said, an incredulous expression on his face. "It looked almost like something out of a naughty magazine or something…"

"Ron!" Hermione said sharply. Ryua wasn't sure if it was the comparison he'd made between his friend and an adult model, or the fact that he read said magazines that made her so angry.

He had the decency to blush, along with a beet-red Harry. Ryua just laughed though, which made Hermione more than slightly annoyed. "Well… that does take a little bit of a connection to your partner. Good chemistry and all that. Very, very comfortable with sexual contact…" She was teasing by the end, enjoying the rather remarkable shade of fuchsia that Ron turned.

Even Hermione was a little pink. "He is a teacher, Ryua…"

"Oh, we worked that all out earlier," Ryua said, unable to resist teasing her. "Dumbledore cleared it, of course… I already asked Harry, tell her, hmm?"

"Of course," Harry said, grinning. "I'm completely okay with it, Hermione, it's all worked out nicely."

She looked either like she was going to faint, or scream, and eventually, Ryua took pity on her, pulling her to the side to very quietly tell her what really happened.

-

After supper that evening, Prefect bodyguard duties were announced for sixth and seventh years with top marks in Defense. They would be assigned by their teachers, cross-houses as much as possible, to promote cooperation, and shuffled as necessary. Ryua was assigned over to the Gryffindor Prefects. She wasn't complaining, but she thought she detected a bit of Dumbledore influence in that decision, somehow.

Ron would be her Prefect, which suited her perfectly. And him too, he was obviously worried he'd be given Goyle or someone similar. Actually, it meant that there was someone sensible doing his patrol for the first time without Hermione partnering him. Not to mention that she talked him through his more confusing Transfiguration homework. And dance steps. And how to ask Hermione to the upcoming ball.

By the end of the night, she was glad to be able to send him to bed, having told him very plainly to ask her tomorrow. Ryua would be tempted to curse him if he spent another evening frantically asking her to repeat her directions over and over again.