Severus Snape hated the Yule Ball. It was perhaps one of the most unfortunate things that had happened to him in the years since he had started teaching. And that included Harry bloody Potter. Plenty of events this year incurred his wrath, ranging from Karkaroff stalking the halls like some paranoid ghoul to Crouch senior looming tensely in the background of everything. But the Yule Ball took the fucking cake. The fanfare, the giggling teenagers, and this. The dance lessons. Wealthy pureblood families forced their Slytherin children to take lessons, so they did not embarrass their lineage at posh balls. Unfortunately, enough families could not afford that privilege, and so here they all gathered.
Severus lurked in a shadowy corner while Filch set up the gramophone Minerva had been so delighted by, and watched as students slowly filtered in. Most gossiped wildly, using more grand gestures than usual, some looked like they had been dragged here by an imperius and Severus could not fault them. Nearly everyone had settled into the tiered benches when she walked in. Lauren Turner. In her last year at Hogwarts, Turner had gone vastly underappreciated by the rest of the staff during her time at the school. Her sharp wit could put Lucius in his place and Severus would have paid good money to watch some battle of smarts between herself and Granger. Unlike most Slytherin families, the Turners did not raise their daughter with a silver spoon shoved up her ass, which made her fluid and humorous. He supposed if Turner and Lovegood began Hogwarts in the same year they would have been fast friends. Though the rest of her housemates did not, Turner flicked her gaze into the corner of the room to acknowledge him. Severus thought the corner of her mouth might have curved up at him, but at this distance he could not be certain.
When everyone was seated, Severus stepped from the shadows and strode to the centre of the floor. An anticipatory silence fell over the room, though some students twisted their mouths into a smirk. Severus targeted them with a particularly harsh glare, he commanded respect in the classroom and he damnwell expected it here, even if he was about to fucking waltz. Merlin, he hated this.
"As many of you are aware, the Yule Ball requires you to dance. I expect you all not to make fools of yourselves." Severus flicked his fingers at the gramophone, letting the music wash through the room before he spoke again. "We will begin with a waltz. Any volunteers?"
A pause. Some shifted in their seats. Malfoy sneered at Crabbe and Goyle. Turner's eyes danced around the room.
"No one? Pity. Miss Pa-"
"I'll volunteer, sir."
The whispers that had started again cut off abruptly and all eyes looked to Turner. If Severus was not so taken aback, he would have docked points for her interruption. As it were…
"Very well." Severus jerked his head, indicating she should join him.
Severus tracked her movements as she approached. Her smile projected victory, but the heave of her chest conveyed something else, nerves perhaps? Her golden hair hung in loose waves, a change from her typical straight hair that rivalled his own. He tried to remember if she usually wore her makeup in such a fashion, but he could not. It suited her well. Turner stopped quite close; her head tilted upwards to look at him. He hoped she had danced before.
"Gentleman, you must place your right hand on your partner's waist."
Occlusion existed for moments like this, Severus thought as he placed his hand on Miss Turner's waist and her whole body shuddered. He could not see it happen, but he felt it and her eyes closed for a brief second. Was it revulsion? Surely it had to be, but she continued to look up at him expectantly.
"Ladies, place your left hand on your partner's shoulder."
Miss Turner raised and lowered her hand onto his shoulder with an unexpected grace. She had done this at least once before then, thank Salazar. With just as much ease, she offered him her right hand, one eyebrow raised. Forgetting entirely to explain the correct way to hold hands, Severus curved his hand around hers. With a swift movement, they stepped into the music. Something suddenly seemed to possess his body, he could not remove his eyes from Miss Turner's vibrant blue ones. They moved in tandem, in a way that suggested they might have done this a thousand times before. He could hear himself counting lowly, emphatically in time with their steps.
"One, two, three. One, two, three."
But he was unaware that he had put in the conscious effort to speak. He was, however, acutely aware of Miss Turner's hand in his own, the slight outward curve of her hip just below his pinkie finger. He heard himself summon the rest of the students from the benches, he knew he snapped at their protests, critiqued their poor excuses for a waltz, though he was certain he never looked away from Turner's face.
"Miss Parkinson, your parents taught you better than that."
His own voice startled him. Severus was well aware of the pride and even admiration he felt for Miss Turner, but this was something else entirely. Something he was not used to. Affection. Severus resisted a shudder at the thought. What kind of monster did that make him? Especially if Karkaroff was right. But Severus could not fail to notice that Miss Turner's gaze seemed trapped on him as well, she hadn't glanced around to watch the failings or successes of her peers, or even to change partners. Surely, she preferred to dance with someone else here.
The gramophone started to shudder as the music faded and Severus released Turner's waist to wave his hand at the thing to silence it. The dancing ground to a halt around him and he felt suddenly capable of looking around the room again. He noticed Turner doing so as well. He observed the rapid flutter of her pulse on her throat, though she did not seem out of breath.
"That is it for the day. Leave."
Students collected their things and started gathering towards the closed doors. Anticipatory whispers and giggles subdued the initial excitement they had all walked in with. Severus only had to survive these four more days and then the ball would be over, and he could breathe. Without meaning to, Severus searched for Turner and found her near the benches with a few other stragglers. She put her robes back on over her skirt and jumper and clutched a Slytherin scarf in her hand. He made a decision quickly. It was a stupid one, but over time it would be fine. In a few months Turner would graduate and move out into the bigger world and onto better things; she would forget about him. Severus would simply obliviate himself.
"Mr Ellsworth, Mr Crabbe, Miss Silvercliffe, and Miss Turner stay behind." Severus waved his hand in the direction of the doors as he spoke, opening them for those who he allowed to leave.
Something changed in Turner's posture as he called her name, but he couldn't say what. He stood silently in the middle of the room, his hands clasped behind his back, watching everyone leave. When there was no one left but the five of them, Severus turned his glare on Ellsworth and Crabbe.
"What I witnessed from the two of you was abysmal. You will attend remedial classes with the other houses. Leave."
Ellsworth's eyes bulged and he left with a nod. Crabbe grumbled unintelligibly all the way to the door. Severus felt his lip curl in distaste. Once they were gone, he rounded on Silvercliffe. Her eyes were already wide, no doubt prepared for whatever insult Severus planned to hurl at her.
"Miss Silvercliffe, I do not know what I was subjugated to today, but it was not a waltz. I expect two feet of parchment on the topic on my desk tomorrow night."
"But -"
"Do not protest."
Silvercliffe sighed heavily and stomped her way out of the room. It was a rather impressive feat considering how large the space was. She slammed the door behind her, and Severus narrowed his eyes. He would take points and detention later for that. Slowly, he turned to the last student in the room, his heart suddenly feeling too uncomfortable in his chest. Turner watched him with keen eyes and seemed to be trying to hold back a smile.
"Miss Turner."
"Sir."
"Your dancing was… satisfactory."
The grin she held back broke out across her face. "Thank you, sir."
Severus didn't know what else to say. He'd skipped this part in his plan and had gone straight to graduation and obliviation. He was a damned fool. He should just bade her leave like everyone else.
"Where did you learn to dance, sir?"
The question surprised him; people did not often ask him personal questions so casually. "A friend insisted upon it."
His own upbringing did not leave room for such frivolity, but once he had stepped in with Lucius, well, it was necessary. Not that Severus attended many of the Malfoy family functions. When the Malfoys would not look upon it poorly, Severus did his best to have excuses made up not to go.
"You dance well."
Severus raised an eyebrow at the complement as much as the informality. Turner's lips quirked upward even as silence spread out thick and awkward between them. He considered obliviating them both right then.
"Would you dance with me again, Severus?"
No amount of self-control or expertise in occluding could have prevented him from inhaling sharply through his nose in surprise. He battled the instinctual urge to reprimand her, to sneer and drop some snide remark before vanishing in a sweep of his robes.
"I suppose. Lauren."
Her responding smile was vibrant and Severus made the quick decision to ward the room before starting the gramophone up again. Turn- Lauren gazed at him as she removed her outer robes again and sent them and her scarf floating off towards one of the benches. This time, they took hold of each other at the same time, their hands moving in synchronicity. This time they danced a little closer, the soft rustle of his robes against her clothes just audible beneath the music. Severus let the dance ease his shoulders and tried to name the scent of her shampoo. He could do this; he could enjoy a few months before they both moved on and forgot.