Chapter Ten The Yule Ball
Elizabeth sat with her arms folded across her chest and her right leg crossed over her left; raised right foot bobbing in time with the music. Her date; a tall, lean seventh year from Durmstrang slouched idly next to her drinking heavily from his bottle of Butterbeer (she suspected that he had added something more to the drink, considering the glazed look that overtook his eyes after only a quarter of the bottle. That, or he was a complete light-weight).
"I'm going for something to drink," she declared, standing and turning brusquely away from her date. Had she been paying any attention to her escort, she would have seen his clouded, beady eyes break focus from the group of promiscuous fifth year Hufflepuff females making a spectacle of themselves, only a moment before he returned to his entertainment. But she didn't see, instead she walked straight across the dance floor and to the temporary bar in the corner of the Great Hall, with eyes only for a tall glass of something. Anything.
"Some punch please," she asked after flagging down one of the house-elf bartenders. The short male wearing a stereotypical barkeep's attire of dark sacks, long white shirtsleeves and bands around the upper-arm; set a clean glass in front of her and walked away. As he turned, the glass filled with the deep red drink before her eyes and had she been in higher spirits, she might have been amused.
She stood with her elbows taking the brunt of her weight, leaning heavily on the solid wood of the bar: she looked dully into the clear red liquid separated from her hand by a Tom Collins. She closed her eyes; brought the glass to her lips and its effects were immediate. Her shoulders relaxed as she took her first long draft, the liquid trickling down her parched throat. Fruity, cold but followed by the unmistakable warmth of something else: the something else she'd been seeking.
Fred and George's handiwork, without a doubt
"Hello Elizabeth," a warm male's voice said in a low tone over her left shoulder. She turned to offer a greeting, but in finding no one, returned to her drink which she immediately slammed down on the counter harder than she'd intended to. Standing immediately at her right was her fellow fourth year, Seamus Finnigan.
"Seamus," she hissed. "You scared me."
"Sorry," he mumbled, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. Obviously not too sorry.
In an attempt to regain some composure (and shock relief), Elizabeth brought the glass to her lips again. She instantly felt a drop of the beverage slide from the corner of her mouth to her chin.
"First time, new mouth?" Seamus asked nonchalantly, quickly snagging the drop with a napkin before it fell to her dress robe.
"Thanks," it was now Elizabeth's turn to mumble, she took the napkin to wipe her mouth and hide the smile that had spread across it.
Seamus hailed a pair of Butterbeers and Elizabeth gratefully abandoned her feigned prim demeanor accepted the familiar bottle.
"So where's your date?" She asked as the pair stood with their backs to and elbows on the bar, facing the dance floor and the swaying couples, or in some cases, trios.
Seamus didn't speak, but rather took a long swig of his own beverage and, while swallowing, gestured with the bottle to a particular place on the floor.
Elizabeth followed his gaze to see Parvati Patil (who should have been seen with Harry Potter) hanging off the arm of a seventh year Durmstrang, and introducing Lavender Brown (who should have been seen with Seamus) to another tall Durmstrang student.
"You're better off without her," Elizabeth said. She was surprised she'd just said this of her own best friend, but knew it was the truth and smiled over at Seamus.
"Where's your date?" Seamus demanded, putting emphasis on the possessive part.
"Pfft." Elizabeth realized a moment too late that she sounded like a horse and looked like a drunk as she waved her bottle toward the dance floor in general with no particular direction. But upon seeing Seamus smile she blushed and thanked the gods for the invention of foundation and rouge, covering her involuntary flush.
"You're better off without him," Seamus said, taking a mouthful of Butterbeer.
Elizabeth began to feel her mood lighten considerably with the aid of Seamus at her side and the drink in her hand. Watching the dancing on the floor, she began to discreetly tap her toes.
"Well, I'm going to dance," Seamus announced, setting his now empty bottle carefully on the bar and walking out the floor.
Elizabeth watched him walk a few meters away from her, her heart sinking with every step, until it jumped to her throat as he turned.
"Aren't you coming?"
"You want to dance with me?" She managed with her vital organ invading her vocal cords.
Seamus smiled a lopsided grin. "Well I'd look a sight dancing by me self," and at that he put his arms around an invisible girl and twirled her around a few times to prove his point.
Elizabeth turned; placed her bottle on the bar, calmed herself with a quick, deep breath, as she realized she was grinning like a complete idiot, and joined Seamus who offered her his hand in a mock-genteel manner.
He lead her to a semi-empty space on the dance floor, squeezed between three dancing cliques, but immediately they were given more space as the Weird Sister changed fluidly from an upbeat song to a slower one. Everyone paired up or left the floor.
Seamus immediately took one of her hand in his own, and placed his other on the small of her back, pulling her inconspicuously closer to himself. Her free hand rested on his shoulder. They moved with the music, but not with each other. He looked awkwardly away from her, scanning their fellow dancers and, after realizing that his eyes were elsewhere, she too looked anywhere but at him.
Elizabeth was almost relieved when the tempo quickened again to a fast paced song. She began to draw away from Seamus, but found resistance. Looking into his eyes she found now that he was looking intently at her, both his arms now encircling her waist. They danced together, his arms around her midriff, hers around his neck. But she realized quickly that his movements were too fast given the rhythm of the song. She closed the gap between their hips and took control over his speed, movement and (little to her knowledge) his thoughts.
Their bodies now began to move as one. One with each other, one with the music, together they now moved with an undeniable ease. The music's quickening pace demanded an equivalent speed from their grinding dance. Although their movements were slower than the song's cadence, they remained in sync with the pulsing tenor of the bass.
The masses of the other dancers around them pushed them together, they moved with as much freedom as they were allowed. Although Elizabeth felt herself come into contact with several people, not one took any more notice of her than she did of them.
Both Seamus's hands rested easily on her lower back now; occasionally he would press his fingertips into the small of her back sending ripples of shivers through her. As he did this for a third time, Elizabeth closed her eyes a moment and inhaled a deep, drawn breath. When she opened her eyes, she was met with Seamus's vibrant blue eyes looking directly into hers. The song was drawing to a close but both were reluctant to abandon their new position, both reluctant to end this discovery and exploration of uncharted territory in their relationship. As the final notes came to a close and a different more technical song started, their movements slowed to a stop.
Elizabeth still clung to him and he made no motion to put any space between them. Seamus took a deep breath, inadvertently exhaling softly, his breath dancing across her face. She relished the slight caress on her hot face and realized how uncomfortable the heat of the surrounding bodies was making her.
"D'you want to go for a walk?" Seamus asked loudly over the new song. He didn't yell, for his voice had taken on a deep, almost husky tone that carried to her ears easily.
Elizabeth answered simply with a nod and allowed him to guide her from the dance floor, his hand low on the small of her back. As they walked between the few tables, Elizabeth made a mental note of all the familiar face that gave the pair a thorough looking over. She would have to avoid them until after the Christmas break at least.
Seamus grabbed two fresh bottles of Butterbeer from the bar and again guided her smoothly through the cliques of students and the odd teacher until they'd left the Great and Entrance Halls, abandoning the warmth of the castle for the cold rosebush lined cobblestone walkways which wound around the grounds.
Elizabeth wished for her cloak.
Even though they were coined "dress-robes", the females' were in all aspects, ball gowns, the males', suits or tuxes (with some exceptions). Unbeknownst to the exact purpose of the dress-robes, Elizabeth had chosen one that had no sleeve nor straps and practically nothing over her back save the silky laces tethered from her lower back to her shoulder blades. As they moved along the grounds, sipping their Butterbeers, she inconspicuously moved closer to Seamus, foolishly hoping for some heat to radiate from him to her.
Seamus was chatting comfortably about Lavender ditching him for the Durmstrangs, and smoothly transitioned from that dreary topic to Quidditch, and commenting on how he should like to play Keeper.
He paused in his ramble to take a swig of his drink. Elizabeth watched with amazement, as if seeing him for the very first time. He lifted the bottle to his mouth, parting his lips just so and tipped the bottle so just the right amount of the liquid poured into his mouth. After a brief pause in his cheeks, his throat subtly contracted, Adam's apple bobbing slightly, he swallowed.
Although it took all of a few seconds, time slowed in Elizabeth's eyes and his movements, as simple as they were suddenly became so graceful, complex and delicate.
She snapped back to reality when she realized how slow he was at bringing the bottle from his mouth, holding it an inch from his mouth. She was staring.
"What?" Seamus asked, tilting his head slightly, lowering the bottle.
"Nothing," Elizabeth said too quickly. She was thankful for a second time that night for the invention of cover-up and rouge. She took a quick drink and tried to clear her head with a surreptitious shake of her head. She couldn't believe she was that fascinated by Seamus swallowing some Butterbeer.
Seamus didn't comment any further and they continued to walk in a comfortable silence, though Elizabeth now became aware of a small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.
As the cold began to make her almost bare feet feel numb, Elizabeth suggested they return to the Hall. Moving aside for a very disgruntled Madam Maxime as she stormed in the opposite direction, the pair returned to the inviting light of the castle. They approached the castle and loud music filled their ears.
When they were half way up the stairs (which were littered with couples and groups of chatting friends) to the large open wooden doors, Elizabeth felt; with a small tingle up her spine that which had nothing to do with the late December cold, Seamus's hand return to the small of her back. He walked closer to her than before and when they emerged into the crowded and noisy Entrance Hall, she felt his shoulder against her's.
After some fancy maneuvering on Seamus's part, they secured a place on the dance floor once again and joined the dancing couples in the newly struck slow song.
Seamus guided their motions now, controlling their speed and direction, holding her to himself with gentle yet firm pressure.
Elizabeth, now warm and getting sleepier by the second, closed her eyes and rested her head against Seamus's chest a moment. She soon felt his hand travel up her back along her arm and up eventually to her chin. He lifted her face and much to her surprise she felt his lips meet her own. Even more to her surprise she drew on his lips with her own, kissing him back.
She pulled back from the kiss with a small gasp for proper air, the feel of his tongue on hers still very strong. They were now both standing at the foot of the stairs to the girl's dormitory in the vacant common room. She opened her eyes at the same second he did and they both realized that it felt right.
She closed her eyes again and felt the mattress under her, the solid headboard at her back and the sunlight on the other side of her closed eyelids.
Her eyes snapped open when she heard the shout.