Again I apologize for the lack of updates. I promise you that I will finish this story, it just may take a really long time. Please be patient with me. Real Life is being far more demanding than I wish it would be. Thanks for reading. And thanks to Vaughn for betaing.

There is something about a ball of any sort that sends most women, including the most intellectual, into a tither, causing them to gather in groups to perform that mysterious feminine ritual known as GETTING READY FOR THE BALL. Hermione Granger remembered fourth year, how she struggled for hours to get her hair absolutely perfect, how grateful she was to her mother for suggesting the dress she did, and how afraid she was of being laughed at by the prettier girls who had eyes for Viktor.

It was not a completely pleasant experience, thanks to her youthful insecurities and their enforcement by her fellow dorm mates. Fortunately, this time was different. Ginny Weasley took Hermione in hand and helped her prepare for the ball, after spending the day in Hogsmeade last weekend finding the perfect dress, shoes, and accessories. Now that her bushy brown hair was longer, it was far more manageable and required less work to make it presentable. When Ginny was finished, Hermione gaped at her reflection in astonishment. Her hair fell in soft, loose curls down her back, highlights of auburn and gold shining from its chestnut depths.

Hermione gasped and hugged her friend. "It's amazing, Ginny! I don't know how you did it, but it looks perfect!"

Ginny put the finishing touches on her own ginger hair and turned to face the excited witch. "It wasn't too hard, Hermione. The highlights are there, you simply need to use a Hair Enhancement potion to bring them out. We can pick up some over the holiday. We should also get a batch of Madame Tress's Follicle Stimulator and Sleakeasy's Smoothing cream. I'll show you how to do it when we get to the Burrow." She twirled around. "What do you think?"

"You look beautiful, Ginny. Zach won't know what hit him."

Ginny's face fell at the thought of her date. "Er… yeah. He'll be really surprised."

Hermione examined the disheartened girl. It was not too hard to guess what was bothering her. "I guess the secret admirer isn't working out?"

Ginny blushed. "Er… not… quite. I mean, it's working out, but… It's hard to explain." Knowing her curious friend was not about to let her off the hook that easily, she looked around for nosey dorm mates, and then dragged the startled Gryffindor girl into the bathroom. Hermione eyed Ginny curiously as she cast a Silencing charm on the door.

"What? You can never be too careful," the younger witch said defensively.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly! I didn't say anything. What's this about, Ginny?"

"I just don't want the gabbing Gryffindors out there spreading rumours about me, that's all."

"I can understand that," said Hermione, nodding. "So. What is the big rumour-inspiring news, then?"

Ginny hesitated.

"Ginevra Weasley…" the brown haired girl began warningly.

"Okay, okay! Fine." She turned back to the mirror and continued putting on her makeup. "I… er… well, I just wish I could go with my secret admirer."

"You mean the Slytherin boy you are trying so hard to hide from me and Harry?"

"Hermione!"

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Well… uh… yes… I suppose…"

"Good," Hermione said briskly. "Now that we have that out of the way, what's the big problem?"

Ginny looked at the other witch like she was insane. "Hmmm…" she drawled, "I wonder."

"I mean besides the fact that he's in Slytherin."

"I think it's more… who he is, that's the issue."

"Who is he?" asked Hermione, wondering if Ginny was going to confirm her theory.

"I can't tell you. Not yet!" she added hastily. "I will tell you, just not until I'm sure where things are going."

Hermione's eyebrow spoke volumes.

A sigh of resignation escaped the fiery haired girl. "I'm just not sure that things are going to work out, 'Mione. I… I'd prefer to wait to say anything until I know."

The older girl gave her a concerned look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," replied Ginny, "there's something to this situation that doesn't feel right, and until I find out what it is, I'm not going to push things."

"Ginny. You don't think this is some sort of plot to get to Harry, do you?"

Ginny bristled. "Despite what you may think, Hermione Granger, the universe does not revolve around Harry Potter!"

Hermione's lips narrowed to a thin line. It was scarily reminiscent of McGonagall. "No, it doesn't. But we'd be rather foolish if we did not think it a possibility, don't you think?"

"No. No, you're right. I've thought of that." She tossed Hermione a grin. "I even did something about it. I told Professor Spellsinger the identity of my secret admirer and let her read all the letters."

Hermione looked surprised.

"She checked them over for coercive magic and made sure I wasn't under any enchantments. She said she'll be keeping an eye out for any sign of trouble."

"That's good, Ginny, but don't you think she's going to be a bit busy with all her teaching duties?"

Ginny glared. "I imagine she would have said something, 'Mione."

"Alright, alright." Hermione held her hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry! You're right. She would have said something. And I'm sure she'll do a smashing job protecting you from the big bad Slytherin."

The fiery tempered girl smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry too, 'Mione. I guess I'm just a bit frazzled about the ball tonight…" She started. "Oh! Bugger! I need to go. I'm supposed to meet Zach!" Ginny flung open the door and hurried out, ignoring the frustrated forms of Lavender and Parvati near the door. Hermione gave herself one last scrutiny in the mirror before following her friend to their room where she was frantically pawing through her things.

"Forgot my wand," Ginny informed her.

Hermione nodded, amused at her friend's behaviour, and continued on to the common room. Tonight certainly promised to be interesting.

On the other side of the school, Ryselle Spellsinger was carefully preparing herself for the Yule Ball. She had never been to a school social function before, and was unsure what to expect. Professor McGonagall told her it was a formal affair, which prompted her to purchase a new set of robes specifically for the joyful event. She was not sure whom she was looking to impress, or she refused to think on it, but she was pleased with the results. All the teachers were attending, including Headmaster Dumbledore. She wondered what outlandish robes the headmaster was going to wear tonight.

Glancing at herself in the mirror one last time, Ryselle made sure her wand was in its wrist sheath before hurrying out the door. Tonight she was dressed in violet robes, as usual, but these were a very different style from what her students were used to seeing. They were based on the robes worn in Avalon, made of light translucent fabric layered over a sheath of amethyst silk. Her hair was pulled back into a chignon, held in place with a beautiful amethyst and gold comb. Matching droplet earrings and a gold mesh choker completed the outfit. She quickly donned her deep purple cloak and headed downstairs to meet the other teachers.

Severus Snape waited downstairs with ill-disguised impatience. Every bloody year Dumbledore tried to force him to socialize at these stupid school events, and this year he just had to come up with the brilliant idea of having another Yule Ball. As if the one two years ago had not been enough. The irritable Potions master had no desire to attend and even came up with a wonderful excuse for his absence. Unfortunately, the headmaster made it mandatory for the staff to attend. Not to mention the fact that Ryselle would probably come drag him from the dungeons. Ah well. Maybe next time. The clock struck seven darkening his mood even more. The professors were supposed to meet at the Great Hall at seven o'clock, and no one was there. Not even the headmaster.

Hearing the patter of shoes on the stairs, he figured one of the students was coming down to annoy him. With his luck, it would be the Weasley girl or that insufferable know-it-all. Affecting his most severe scowl, he turned to glare at the student. His eyes widened in stunned surprise.

Ryselle Spellsinger was quickly skipping down the steps, looking carefully in front of her to avoid tripping. Her plum-colored cloak billowed behind her, revealing soft lines of an unusual set of dress robes. She was stunning. It was all Severus could do not to stare. Sternly reminding himself that he did not like her (did he?), the disconcerted professor quickly averted his eyes, praying to the Powers At Be that someone, anyone, would come along soon.

Severus heard her shoe slip before she had time to gasp, and was at her side in an instant, moving without conscious thought to catch her before she stumbled down the stairs. Forever after he wondered why he had not simply pulled out his wand to stop her fall, but did not regret the opportunity to gaze into her beautifully expressive amethyst eyes. The irises were wide with alarm, but quickly went back to normal as it registered that she was safe in the arms of Severus Snape. They stood frozen a moment, eyes locked, each of them uncertain as to how they should react.

The dark wizard was startled by the intense feelings his contact with the beautiful Gypsy professor generated, and found himself reluctant to let her go. A small part of his mind informed him that this was as close as he was ever going to get to her, and he might as well take advantage of the opportunity. Despite the fact that she made him extremely uncomfortable, he found he could not avoid her, nor could he avoid thinking about her. Having her in his arms was like a dream made reality, and he was reluctant for it to end.

Ryselle was having similar thoughts. Despite what she wanted to admit, she was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of safety and completion she experienced in Severus Snape's arms. She made no attempt to remove herself from his grasp, curious to see how long he would keep her there. Especially now that all her suppressed feelings for him surged to the surface and demanded attention. She was paralyzed by the uncertainty of what to do.

The clearing of a throat startled them out of their mutual reverie and they parted, unsure as to what just happened. Severus quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression and waited for the headmaster's approach.

"Ah, Professor Spellsinger, Professor Snape, it is good to see someone is punctual this evening." His cheerful gaze turned to the flustered Potions professor. "Honestly, Severus. I had expected to have to drag you out of the dungeons. I know you are not fond of these events."

His eyes still on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he replied absently, "I would rather be spared the ignominy of being forcibly dragged into the Great Hall, Albus. Nor would I expect the rest of you to wait on me. Punctuality is a virtue." He frowned at how unsteady his voice sounded. Snape shifted his attention back to his employer and concentrated on putting his brief contact with the beautiful witch out of his mind.

The witch in question watched the exchange with amusement, thinking that her imagination had not done the headmaster's robes justice. Even her grandfather would be hard-pressed to beat them for flamboyance. She wondered if he had made them deliberately in Gryffindor colors. The gold moons and stars were large and stood out rather nicely on the scarlet fabric. He still wore his usual pointed hat, but the colors had changed to match the robes and it appeared the moons and stars moved over the background. As a finishing touch, there were sparkling gold and silver stars and moons dotting his carefully sculpted white beard.

Ryselle carefully kept her gaze averted from Severus Snape. It was obvious he was uncomfortable around her, and she felt an enormous confusion around him in return. She was attracted to him she knew, but the likelihood of him returning that affection was rather low.

Or so she thought until moments ago.

She always figured a powerful, pureblood wizard like him would surely be looking for a witch with a similar heritage. Despite her lineage, she was still the daughter of a Gypsy and a half-blood.

Severus was a powerful wizard, and more importantly, an Occlumens. Possibly one of the best in the Wizarding world. Despite all that, Ryselle had glimpsed a few stray thoughts before he regained control and shuttered his mind. It surprised her to find that he apparently found her attractive as well. The question was what to do about it. Severus Snape was a social recluse with a very obvious distain for others. How could she even hope that they might someday become… something? More than friends? She knew there was more to the dark-haired Slytherin than was apparent. What she saw in his eyes tonight for example, his intense, fathomless, midnight black eyes told a different tale. In them, she could see a deep caring offset by great suffering and loneliness. It made her yearn to stay in his arms and assure him he would never be alone again.

What am I thinking, she wondered, mentally slapping herself.

It was only recently that she and Severus Snape had moved past the tentative acquaintance phase into that of actual friends. It was a far cry from the beginning of the year, when he was distant and snide, completely disdainful of her and everything she did. He still had issues, like this past week when he snapped at her for giving one of his precious Slytherins detention. Not that the little bastard did not deserve it. Nor did it stop there. She often wondered what she did to offend him but knew there was little she could do about it. He had a lot of repressed anger and pain within him, and she speculated he focused it outward through his snide and hostile behaviour.

Snape for his part was doing his best to purge his mind of all thoughts of Ryselle. Professor Spellsinger! He did not want to think about how her eyes sparkled when she looked at him, or how he seemed to have felt a connection with her from the instant he met her. He refused to reflect on the subtle floral scent she carried with her everywhere she went, or how her raven hair sparkled in the dim light of Hogwarts. He had no use for fancy in his life. Things were already complex enough with the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters. He had a job to do; a job better accomplished without attachments. He would not give in to the temptation to gaze at her again, and spent the remainder of the time waiting for the other professors in silence.

Shortly after the arrival of Headmaster Dumbledore, the rest of the teachers arrived with their students, and the professors proceeded into the Hall for the obligatory lecture from Dumbledore. He advised them on how to watch the students and admonished them make sure no one got away with the traditional practical jokes. Snape had the impression most of the lecture was aimed at the new professor, but listened politely even as his mind cried out in boredom. Did the man ever vary his speech?

"Several members of the governorship and representatives from the Ministry will be here this evening, so I abjure you to be polite, no matter what their theoretical allegiance, and keep an eye out for suspicious behaviour."

Severus grimaced. "In other words, Lucius Malfoy is coming to the ball and we should watch him but make sure he doesn't notice."

Dumbledore smiled. "I see you still have the skill to break down my speech into its most cynical components, Severus."

Snape smirked. "It is a gift."

Shaking his head in amusement, the elderly wizard quickly finished the last of his instructions and allowed the teachers to take their positions at the front of the room. With a gesture, the doors opened.

Back in the Gryffindor common room, the boys were waiting for their dates to finish getting ready. Hermione was the first to come downstairs. Harry gazed at her, thinking she looked particularly beautiful this evening. Her chestnut hair was pulled up and back to cascade down her back in soft curls. She had applied a small bit of neutral makeup to highlight her features, with a thin coating of gloss on her lips to bring out the rose color of her lipstick. Her dress was a black sheath with a gold and scarlet bow at the shoulder. He found himself grinning like a fool as he held out his arm to her. She may not be his date, but there was no way he was going to let her out of the room without an escort. Her beautiful smile nearly stopped his heart.

Ginny came down next garbed in deep green satin robes. Her hair was pulled up into a twist with the faint glitter of gold and faux-emerald hairpins scattered throughout. She wore pale pink lipstick and a bit heavier makeup than her older friend. Tossing an arch look to her brother, she headed out the door to meet her Hufflepuff date, Zacharias Smith. She had agreed to go with him under the condition that he realized it was only as friends. She felt agreeing to go with Julian would have been hypocritical and cruel.

Ron glowered at her until she was gone, then turned to glare at Hermione and Harry.

"You guys a couple now?"

Harry was a bit shocked at the hostility in his voice. "No, Ron. We're going as friends. But I'm not going to leave her unescorted on the way there."

"Don't you have a date to pick up, Ronald?" Hermione asked with a pointed look toward the door.

"Er, uh, yeah. I guess I'll go get Luna."

The Ravenclaw in question was waiting for them when the portrait door to Gryffindor swung open. Ron gulped as he saw the look on her face.

"Did you forget about me, Ronald?" Luna asked with an uncharacteristically hard edge to her voice.

Ron squirmed. "Uh, no, Luna. I was just coming to get you now."

She thought for a moment, and then smiled. "Oh. Okay. Let's go then."

Hermione thought Padma had outdone herself this time. Luna looked magnificent. No blue and purple robes or berets for her tonight. Her white-blond hair was pulled up into a complicated style, leaving small curly tendrils to fall around her face. There appeared to be glitter in her hair and on her face, and she wore the promised dragon tooth necklace on a silver chain around her neck. Her robes were an iridescent white, accented with silver and seemingly made of a very airy fabric that flowed around her in graceful folds. She was ethereal in her beauty, yet Ron did not appear to notice. Hermione frowned.

The four students entered the Great Hall to find it a changed place. It was a winter wonderland, having been decorated by Professors Flitwick and McGonagall with evergreen trees, faerie lights, and delicate sculptures made of ice. An impressive whirl of colors scattered with twinkling stars and shooting comets danced overhead, suspended in the night sky. The image was occasionally obscured by light flurries of illusory snow that fell and disappeared above the ball attendees. The normal feast tables had been replaced with smaller round tables scattered around the edges of the room, covered in white linen with fine, gold-rimmed china. Even the Head Table had been removed. In its place stood an enormous Christmas tree covered in sparkling ornaments of every shape and size. Crystal glasses filled with the student's drink of choice as they were seated, and heavy gold flatware completed the ensemble.

Hermione could not help but admire the large poinsettias and deep green holly provided by Professor Spout for decoration. The arrangement of the Christmas flowers, baby's breath, and glittered trimming complimented the simple elegance of the table settings. As they sat down, her eyes swept the room admiringly. The professors had certainly put a lot of effort into the décor this year. Her eyes were drawn to the focus of the room – the tall Christmas tree located where the Head Table usually sat. Delicate blown glass ornaments and beautiful silk and beaded baubles were placed near heavy metal decorations from ages past. According to Hogwarts: A History, every year one of the professors was chosen to add a new ornament to the tree. Traditionally it was the newest addition during their first year, or a random choice by the Sorting Hat. She wondered what decoration Professor Spellsinger provided.

Ginny and her date joined them a few minutes later. Her smile was contagious.

"Isn't it beautiful this year?"

"Fourth year was fine, Ginny. This isn't any better." Ron groused.

"Sod off, Ronald. I think it's perfect. Professor Flitwick really went all out."

Ron ignored her, and his date, concentrating instead on scrutinizing everyone who entered the room. It appeared he was going to spend this ball being a prat again. Fortunately, Harry was not following his example this time. Ginny wondered what her brother's problem was. Glancing at Hermione, she thought she had a pretty good idea.

The tables filled quickly as the rest of the students arrived. The teachers were already there, scattered around the room. They were all dressed in formal robes – similar to their teaching garb – but far nicer. Ginny made a mental note to ask Professor Spellsinger where she found her robes. They were beautiful. Even Professor Snape was dressed up, although it was difficult to tell with his signature black and scowling countenance.

Headmaster Dumbledore had managed to book the Magus Sigil this year, a new up and coming band rumoured to be rapidly outpacing the Weird Sisters. The haunting melody of their newest song echoed through the hall, reminiscent of cold nights, warm fires, and the gentle thrill of friendly companionship. The students were split into two major groups – those that were dancing, and those that were not. Harry immediately held out his hand to Hermione, grinning impishly.

"Would my lady care to dance?"

She stood up, taking his hand with a slight curtsey. "It would be my pleasure, kind sir. Let us away!" The two Gryffindors laughed and headed for the dance floor. Within moments, Harry had proceeded to demonstrate quite vividly that the Boy Who Lived was not in fact able to do everything. He tried, though, but Hermione found herself grateful when the song ended and drifted into a slow one. Ron's face darkened in displeasure as the two friends continued to dance.

"I believe I'm going to go dance, Ronald." Luna stood up and left the table. Ginny could not blame her, and hoped she ditched Ron. The prat was being decidedly prickish this evening and she did not want the Ravenclaw dragged down with him. Zacharias, or Zach as he preferred to be called, offered his hand for a dance as well. With one final glare to her brother, she followed him, determined to have fun. She wished she could have come with the true object of her affections. Draco would be a wonderful date, and she knew he could dance like no one else. She sighed. Was there anything the man could not do?

If only things were easier. She would be with the man she liked and her brother would be happy with someone besides Hermione. Too bad he hacked of Lavender. Ah well. She turned her attention back to Zach, refusing to make his evening bad simply because he did not have gorgeous blond hair and stormy grey eyes.

Meanwhile, Professor Snape was stalking around the room, watching for the pranksters he knew were out there. There was no subtlety to his actions tonight. He was hoping to foist his usual task off on Minerva later on in the evening so he could make an attempt at escape. He made no effort to blend, and stuck out like a griffin in a glass shop.

He was dressed in his usual, if less severe black robes as a result of Headmaster Dumbledore's suggestion that a change in style might be in order. Knowing the elderly wizard was hinting for him to wear something other than black, Severus ignored the implied message and arranged to have a black set made based on an older style from the Far East. The cut of the inner robe was less voluminous, accenting his slim frame without making him appear emaciated. The outer robes were much looser, made of a fabric that billowed quite satisfactorily when he walked. A high neck complimented the straight lines of the robe. He thought he looked rather dashing in it, but looking around at the other attendees, he realized he appeared as unfriendly and imposing as always. Seeing Madame Trelawney latch on to Professor Futhark as a dance partner reminded him it was not necessarily a bad thing.

Now he just needed to bide his time before escaping from his torturous charge.

He saw that Potter and his little sycophants claimed a table in one of the corners, and already the fawning had begun. The Weasley boy was the only one there now, but it was only a matter of time before Potter and the rest of his adoring fans returned. The only thing good about Umbridge's presence at Hogwarts last year was the break from Potter-worship throughout the student body. At the end of his fourth year, the boy was well on his way to the same swelled head his father possessed. Even Severus, however, admitted privately that he was nowhere near his father's level of arrogance. Still, he felt the little prat needed the cold, hard experience of his godfather's death to snap him out of becoming a duplicate of his father. Initial duties complete, he sat down in the darkest corner he could find, quietly sipping his punch and praying futilely that Dumbledore would take pity on him and let him leave.

"Welcome to Hogwarts Annual Yule Ball, Severus!" He scowled as Remus Lupin strolled up with a friendly smile on his face.

"Remus. I was unaware you would be attending this evening." Severus eyed the approaching werewolf in disdain.

"The headmaster asked a few of us to attend in order to offset the presence of… others."

Severus rolled his eyes. As if that would make a difference. "I see."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Would it matter if I did?"

Lupin looked hurt. "Of course it would, Severus. I'm not going to force you suffer my horridly noxious company if you don't wish to."

Oh bloody hell. He kicked a chair toward the hovering werewolf. "Oh sit down, Lupin. I don't find you horridly noxious."

"Mildly?"

"Lupin," he growled in warning.

"Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood. You seem particularly surly this evening. Any reason?"

Snape gestured at the brightly festive décor and ball attendees. "Need I say more?"

"Ah. Frightfully colorful, aren't they? Albus looks especially flamboyant this evening. I wonder where he got those robes."

"Probably Aberforth's Senile Wizard Emporium."

Lupin chuckled. "He seems unusually dressed up for the Yule Ball."

"I'm sure you can imagine why."

"The governors?"

"Worse," Snape replied sardonically. "The Ministry. Lucius mentioned a few days ago that tonight was going to be his 'grand entrance' back into Wizarding society. Apparently he talked them into letting him represent the Ministry to give Potter some award. Lucius needs to do something to get the other wizards back on his side. He seems to believe an obnoxiously extravagant awards ceremony would probably help."

"Are you serious?"

The Potions master snorted. "Not bloody likely. I'd rather stab out my eyes than be at all associated with that prat."

Lupin rolled his eyes at the Sirius joke. "That's not what I meant. I mean they're truly going to present Harry with some random award."

"So I've heard."

"Poor Harry."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Why would you say that?

"They're going to force Harry to be on display for the evening. I feel sorry for him."

"Why on earth would you say that?" The dark wizard eyed his former schoolmate incredulously. "One would think that over-blown ego of his would feed off such an event."

Remus wagged his finger at the glowering professor. "Ah, I think you might have the son confused with the father, Severus. Harry's not too fond of the limelight. I think he'd rather be back at the dorm than be here getting flaunted as a political toy."

The dark haired Slytherin considered for a moment, and then reluctantly had to admit the other man might have a point. Potter never really seemed to seek the fame that came to him so effortlessly. He rather seemed more embarrassed by it.

His eyes flitted absently over to the violet-clad figure on the dance floor. Maybe he should ask her to dance.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

Lupin's comment caught Severus off guard and he jumped. "What?"

"Professor Spellsinger. She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Snape flushed with embarrassment. His gaze had unconsciously drifted to her while he was deep in thought. It was his luck that Lupin noticed. "Uh, of course she is." Any fool could see that. The porcelain skin, ruby lips, and thick raven hair that appeared smooth as silk and smelled of roses. "What…what brought that about, Remus?"

"Well, I couldn't help but notice you were staring off into space, but then I saw your eyes were actually directed toward someone. She was the most logical choice, since I can't imagine you staring like that at Professor Futhark." Besides I remember how you looked at her at the last meeting, he thought.

"No, you're quite right I…what do you mean, 'like that'?" He thought he was more circumspect.

Remus laughed. "Like you wish she would come over here and sweep you onto the dance floor."

"I… that's foolish, Lupin. She's just… a friend. Nothing more. But I would have to be blind not to appreciate her beauty."

"Why don't you go ask her to dance?"

Snape almost choked. "Why don't I what?" Was the bloody werewolf suddenly a mind-reader?

"You know, Severus. Take a twirl around the dance floor. It's obvious she enjoys it." He tried not to smirk at the dumbfounded look of the Potions master. Lupin had seen how they got along at the last meeting of the Order, and found himself hoping she would move on and start dating someone else. Sirius was dead and perhaps this was a way she could come to accept it. He mused. Severus would not be a bad choice. They seemed to be getting along quite well and it was obvious the man was mad for her. He suspected the dark Slytherin was more to her taste than Sirius anyway.

Severus' eyes were drawn to her as he lost himself in thought. Would it be possible? Would she actually dance with him? Could there be more? His eyes narrowed as he noticed her dancing with Lucius Malfoy. What the bloody hell was she thinking? "I don't dance."

"Pah! That's just an excuse. If you're afraid of making a fool of yourself, choose a slow song, Severus. It's easy. You just take her in your arms and sway to the music. That's how I always do it. And you know me and my two left feet."

The Potions master flushed at the thought of holding Ry… NO! Professor Spellsinger in his arms like that. He hoped Lupin could not see, but considering the man was a werewolf, his vision was far more acute in the dark than a normal human. "I… uh… I don't think she'd be interested, Remus, and I have no desire to make our working relationship uncomfortable by adding… other… nuances." There. That should make him shut up.

"Nuances, Severus? Give me a bloody break. It's just a dance. I'm not suggesting you go over there and snog the daylights out of her."

Now he knew he was blushing. Damn Lupin and his comments. "Is there a point to this, Lupin, or are you trying to get me to publicly humiliate myself?"

"No! No, Severus. Not at all. I just figured that you seemed interested in her, and it might be a good idea to encourage you to do what is obvious you want to do. Go ask her. I doubt she'll say no."

That's what I'm afraid of, thought Severus. He remembered how she felt in his arms after he caught her, and he had the distinct feeling that if he danced with her tonight, it would lead to something other than friendship. He was not sure he was ready for that.

"Okay, what's with the frown? Already thinking up more reasons to say no? By Merlin, Severus. What kind of Slytherin sits in the back room watching while other men dance with the woman he wants?"

As much as he hated to say it, the former Gryffindor had a point. His gaze wandered to the dance floor again where he could see she was enjoying herself with her current dance partner. Potter? Bloody hell. She was dancing with Potter. Where did that boy learn how to dance? It was pathetic. Why was she dancing with a student? Why Potter? His ire increased as she laughed at something the boy said, obviously having a good time. By the time the song ended, Severus was ready to give Potter two weeks of detention for behaving disrespectfully toward a teacher. It did not help matters that she whispered something to him before leaving the dance floor. He was up and moving before he thought about what he was doing.

As the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor left the dance floor, Hermione Granger moved quickly toward it, determined to snare Harry for another dance. The older witch's indifference to her Gryffindor partner's ineptitude merely drew Hermione's attention to how ridiculous she was being. Sure, Harry could not dance, but neither could many of the boys at the school. His clumsiness probably had more to do with uncertainty than anything. He simply lacked experience with any dance outside the one they had been taught fourth year. The wailing sounds of Magus Sigil did not lend itself to such formal movements.

Hermione smiled unconsciously as she spotted him near one of the punch bowls.

"Harry!"

"Hey, 'Mione! Want some punch? It's really good."

She eyed it suspiciously. "What's it spiked with?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I think Seamus put something alcoholic in it."

Holding out her hand for a cup, Hermione chuckled. "I guess he doesn't know that the punch and cups are spelled against that."

"He probably thinks he found a way around it."

Hermione hesitated, putting down the glass. "Good point. Maybe not."

For some reason Harry felt compelled to encourage his friend to be a little reckless. He picked up the drink and handed it back to her. "Come on 'Mione. Just a little. It shouldn't be too terrible." His eyes twinkled as he said it, and Hermione found herself unable to say no.

She sighed. "Okay, Harry. Just a bit. Okay, just one glass. But that's it!"

His grin made it all worth it. "I can accept that." He held up the glass. "Cheers!"

The two students quickly drank the punch, wondering what surprise was in store for them. Hermione began to feel a bit warm after only a few moments passed, and then felt herself feeling the urge to kiss Harry. Not that it was unusual, she knew, but it was normally a lot easier for her to control the impulse. Her eyes widened in alarm as she realized what was in the punch. It was not alcohol. It was a potion.

"Harry!" Hermione reached out to grab his arm as he poured himself another glass. "Don't drink that!"

"Why not?" He turned and their eyes met. She could see curiosity and something else shining in them.

"Uh… it's spiked."

He grinned goofily. "I know that, 'Mione. I saw Seamus put something in it. Whatever it was, it's delicious."

She shook her head. "No, Harry, it wasn't alcohol. Seamus put a Fancy Free potion in it." Hermione fought to keep her mind on the current issue. She already knew she loved Harry and did not need a potion to tell him. Nor did she need it to prompt her to kiss him.

While she was lost in thought, he moved closer. "So what, 'Mione. It's not harmful is it?"

Hermione flushed as he brushed against her. "Er… it… it makes the person who drinks it less…" Harry took her hand. "Um… controlled… in…" Their eyes met. "Uh… what they do… er… with the person they…" Somehow, Harry's arms were around her before she could react. "Fancy…" They lunged toward each other at the same time, lips meeting frantically. Somehow keeping in mind his vow to protect her, Harry dragged them both into a corner where they continued to kiss passionately.

Across the room, a red-haired girl in green smiled with glee. "Thanks, my darling brothers," she whispered. Raising her now-empty glass in a toast, she went searching for a certain silver-haired Slytherin.

She found him sitting in a darkened corner, apparently hiding from a determined Pansy Parkinson. One silvery eyebrow lifted at her approach, and his smirk informed her that her presence was not unwelcome. Wordlessly, she sat next to him.

"Having a good time, Draco?"

"Tolerable. It's gotten a bit more entertaining since you gave that potion to Seamus." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "How are the golden duo making out, anyway?"

Ginny giggled despite herself. "Well, my darling dragon, making out would be the term I think I would use to describe their actions." She unconsciously moved closer, breathing deeply to take in the scent of his cologne.

Draco's other eyebrow went up at her behaviour. Apparently Granger and Potter were not the only Gryffindors affected by the Weasleys' potion. He smirked. This was going better than he expected. "I'm glad to hear your plan was so successful, Ginevra. I see you too are benefiting from your efforts."

She scooted closer. "Does that bother you, Draco?"

He found himself enraptured by her soft brown eyes. "Er… no, actually, it doesn't. On the contrary…" He leaned toward her to whisper in her ear. "Far from it, my fiery darling. I am thoroughly enjoying every moment of your presence I may steal from that annoying
Hufflepuff."

Ginny smacked him playfully. "Draco! That's not nice. Zach's not annoying. He's.… er… nice."

"Mmmm… yes, nice. I wonder, Ginny, if nice is truly what you are looking for in a man." Draco ran his finger around the delicate shell of her ear.

"Er… uh… we… oh my… I… uh…" Ginny stammered, until Draco silenced her by pulling her to her feet. As much as he wanted to kiss her, he was not going to do it while she was under the influence of a potion.

"Shall we dance, my lovely Gryffindor?"

Bearing in mind the reactions of her brother and the rest of the Gryffindors, not to mention the members of his own house, Draco guided the red-haired beauty out onto a balcony near the back of the room. Few knew it was there, and the door was hidden behind one of the pillars.

Ginny gasped at the view. "Oh my! It's lovely, Draco."

Gazing at her, he nodded. "Yes. Indescribably."

Noticing the direction of his gaze, Ginny blushed. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Anytime." It was with a surge of panic that Draco began to realize that he was in far over his head. His feelings for her were no longer simply about the bet.

Back inside the Great Hall, Ryselle happily joined Professor Vector at the teachers' table after getting herself a glass of punch. She decided to rest her feet for a short while. Dancing with Harry had been far more taxing than she expected. The beautiful raven-haired professor found it amusing that Harry Potter, a great athlete with incredible dexterity, was so hopeless when it came to tripping the light fantastic. Fortunately, it appeared Ginny's plan to get Hermione's attention worked. Upon parting from her clumsy dance partner, she was thrilled to see Hermione immediately went in search of the uncertain young man. Hopefully, the self-conscious witch would be over her reticence to be seen with him. They really did make a wonderful couple.

She had never expected Ginny Weasley to request she ask Harry to dance. It was obvious the young man was uncomfortable on the dance floor, but Ryselle figured the red-haired girl knew what she was talking about. She was even more surprised when Harry said yes. The reason became obvious rather quickly when she noticed him glancing over at Hermione while they danced. The bushy-haired Prefect had been deep in conversation with Julian Aldread when she approached. Apparently the obsessive young perfectionist had issue with Harry's ineptness on the dance floor. As soon as she and Harry were on the dance floor, however, Hermione's eyes were glued to them, leaving poor Julian to wonder what was going on. Ryselle knew Ginny was a devious young woman, and figured the girl was trying to force the two Gryffindors together. She hoped it worked. The two needed each other and perhaps this was the only way they could get past whatever reservations they held.

Professor Vector was rattling on about her latest theorems when her eyes widened and her voice trailed off. Following her gaze, she was surprised to see Severus Snape approaching the table as if he were on a mission. He arrived in a flurry of robes, different from his usual ones, appearing as unruffled and together as always. Ryselle thought he looked rather fetching.

He politely nodded his head to Vector.

"Good evening, Severus. Having a good time?" Ryselle refused to let her mood be dragged down by his words this afternoon. She would be polite and friendly as normal.

"Tolerable, Ryselle. I wouldn't say a 'good time' but it is not completely unpleasant."

She smiled. "Good." It appeared he was actually allowing himself to feel something positive for a change. It was a start.

Severus reached for something to say. "Uh, are you having a pleasant evening thus far?"

"Yes, Severus, I am. Thank you."

He looked uncertain for a moment and then held out his hand. "Care to dance?"

She gazed at him in shock. "Uh… yes. Of course. It would be my pleasure."

His lips quirked into an almost-smile as she rose and took his hand. "My lady," he murmured. He briefly hoped he remembered the lessons of his youth. It would not due for him to embarrass himself in front of Ryselle and the governors. Especially Lucius. Draco's father was the one responsible for him learning to dance. He would never hear the end of it.

The instant they stepped on the dance floor everything came flooding back to him and he was pleased to discover he still had the skill. Ryselle seemed surprised at first, and then delighted as he whirled her around the room. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were dancing nearby, grinning at the sight of the two professors. Many in the room were startled to see the usually dour potions professor partnered with anyone on the dance floor, much less their youthful Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Ryselle and Severus were so intent on one another that they missed the increasingly odd behaviour of the students off the dance floor. Unlikely couples were gravitating toward each other, guided by the magical concoction in their blood. The Weasleys' potion was far more effective than even they imagined, and Albus Dumbledore was thrilled to see the barriers of house rivalry being broken down this night. He only hoped it would last. If the Weasleys' potion brought together even one couple, it would be worth the blind eye he turned away from the Weasley girl's actions.

The headmaster's eyes drifted toward Severus Snape and Ryselle Spellsinger. Now there was a sight to behold. In the history of Hogwarts, no one had ever seen Severus willingly dance with a woman, yet here he was, tripping the light fantastic with the beautiful Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. By the look in the dark man's eyes, Albus suspected he was fighting something far more powerful than a potion.

Harry and Hermione joined the couples on the dance floor, appearing only slightly mussed from their time in the darkened corner. The elderly wizard's blue eyes twinkled at the thought of those two finally getting together. By Merlin he hoped the young man came to his senses as a result of this evening. Harry needed Hermione far more than he would probably ever know. Without her, he would never be able to defeat Voldemort.

Albus was slightly surprised at the sight of Ginny and Draco moving on to the Lover's Balcony. He knew the boy was up to something, but even he was uncertain as to what. He only hoped that the genuine feelings the young Malfoy heir was experiencing overrode his upbringing. The last thing he wanted to see was a broken-hearted Ginny Weasley. Unfortunately, he had the feeling that things were destined to get worse before they could be worked out.

While the headmaster mused at the unusual couples on the dance floor, Ronald Weasley glowered as his two best friends ignored him to dance with each other. His eyes were narrowed suspiciously as he considered their actions. Obviously, Harry had no intentions of staying away from Hermione, despite the risk to her. What was he thinking? He could not believe a smart girl like Hermione was not able to put two and two together like he did. Anyone with half a brain could get the clue that Voldemort would pay anything to get his hands on the woman his arch enemy loved. How could he put her in danger like that? The answer slipped into his mind. It was simple. Harry was selfish and arrogant. Look at what happened to Sirius. If Harry had listened to reason instead of charging off without talking to anyone, Sirius would never have gone to the Ministry and gotten killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. This was a similar situation. He would be damned if he let Hermione die like Sirius Black.

Lavender Brown was out on the dance floor with Neville Longbottom. Apparently she and her date were not terribly committed. He noticed Julian was dancing with Blaise Zabini but did not seem to be truly enjoying himself. Wasn't Blaise the girl responsible for his sister's breakup with the Gryffindor boy? He seemed to remember his sister mentioning something like that. Bloody prat. He had a good mind to go over there and give the berk a piece of his mind. A flash of white caught his attention and he noticed Luna dancing with some Ravenclaw boy. He felt a twinge of guilt as he remembered the way he ditched her as soon as they arrived. She seemed to be enjoying herself, however, so maybe it was better this way.

He was surprised to see Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall whirling about the floor as if they did this every day. The two looked on benevolently as the dreaded Potions master danced the evening away with Hogwarts' beautiful Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The room was still reeling from the shock. Ron briefly considered asking someone to dance, but the truth was he really had no desire to be at the ball. The only woman he was interested in was currently wrapped up in the adoring gaze of her beloved, and his mood grew darker as the evening progressed.

That was the frame of mind Eric Hadenthor found him in later that evening. He had been watching the surly Gryffindor all night, waiting to make his move. Fortunately his head of house was distracted by the Gypsy woman, and Malfoy was out on the balcony, doing everything in his power to avoid being seen dancing with the Weasley girl. Carefully schooling his face into calm indifference, he sauntered over to Ron's table.

Ron looked up to see Eric Hadenthor standing nearby.

"Weasley."

"Hadenthor."

"Mind if I have a seat?"

"Why don't you sit with the other Slytherins?"

Eric smirked. "I'm not really in the mood to deal with Thanos' ego or Malfoy's arrogance. I figured you might at least ignore me."

"Hmph."

The two boys watched the other students for a while. Ron saw Harry and Hermione at the corner of the dance floor. He held her close, gazing into her eyes. It was obvious to anyone with half a brain the two Gryffindors were madly in love. They were oblivious to everything around them.

"Disgusting, isn't it?"

Ron bristled. Why wouldn't the Slytherin prat stay quiet? "What?"

"Potter and Granger. I always figured you would wind up with her. Potter always seemed so… bland."

"Ha! More like oh so famous. What girl doesn't fall head over heels for him? Why should Hermione be any different?" snarled Ron.

"Because she's smarter than the rest of them? Bloody hell, Weasley, you should go ask her to dance."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Right, and afterward I can go hug Malfoy for being such a warm and fuzzy guy. You're crazy, Hadenthor."

"I thought you two were best friends."

"We are. She's just not interested in a best friend right now. Or at least not this best friend." The last was barely audible to the scheming Slytherin.

He smirked inwardly. This promised to be far too simple. "You know, my father's going to be thrilled to hear about this."

Ron looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it seems to me Granger has suddenly become a very attractive target for the Dark Lord and his followers. Look over at Malfoy Senior. He's practically drooling."

Ron glanced over to see Lucius Malfoy's eyes glued to his best friends. It was obvious the man was not watching them out of a finer appreciation of their talents.

He frowned. "I see what you mean. What the bloody hell is he thinking?"

"Probably about the many ways he can lure Granger away from Hogwarts and use her as bait. Among other things." Eric responded.

"Not him, you twit. Harry. I've been trying to figure out all evening why he's suddenly gone back on his decision to stay away from her."

"Maybe it's her womanly wiles."

Eric tried to look sincere as the Weasley boy glared at him. "Yeah, right. I'm sure you believe that."

"It's not what I believe, Weasley, it's what the Dark Lord believes."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "What do you think? You're a smart boy, Weasley. Figure it out." He stood up. "I do believe Blaise is finally available for a dance." With a curt nod he was gone. Ron stared at him, confused.

What the bloody hell was that?

The students relaxed as the evening progressed. The awards ceremony was mercifully short. Thanks to politics, Harry Potter became the youngest recipient of the Silver Star of Heroism in the Face of Terrible Adversity. Lucius praised his actions in the Department of Mysteries, keeping his comments brief and without detail. Snape could tell the boy struggled to control his aversion and remain politely in place as the elder Malfoy pinned the medal on his robes. Each of the other students received Meritous Citations from the Ministry of Magic, along with a Bronze Star of Heroism. It was obvious the students were not enjoying their time in the eyes of the public, but few seemed to care. Colin Creevy was there, happily snapping pictures, and several reporters from the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet hovered in the wings in hopes of securing an interview with Harry Potter.

Ron Weasley glowered the entire time.

Once the governors, specifically Lucius Malfoy, left, there was almost a vast sigh of relief in the Hall and things became a lot lighter. It was an odd evening. No one expected Professors Spellsinger and Snape to pair up, but for some strange reason not only did they dance, but they spent the rest of the evening together on the dance floor or chatting at one of the tables. The cat was out of the bag about the Headmaster and his deputy, and the student pairings were just as interesting. Ginny made sure she and Draco stayed discreetly on the balcony when they made time to dance. Harry and Hermione surprisingly agreed to distract others from noticing Ginny missing, despite the fact that she still refused to tell them whom she was with. Julian seemed to hit it off with Luna toward the end of the evening, and Neville found himself paired with Hannah Abbott for more than one song.

Everyone was relieved there was no attack by Voldemort and his followers. The evening passed, and soon the ball came to a close. The students were dismissed to return to their dormitories for the night.

It was the happiest start to the holiday season many of them could remember.