Two Left Feet
Chapter 9
"The Ball"
For the umpteenth time, Harry gazed into his reflection, not really seeing himself, but fragments of contemplation played upon his self. In his mind, there was only trepidation for the evening. Nothing could go well when girls and especially Ginny were dressing up. He knew that Ginny's main goal tonight was not to bend her luck and seduce him, but to look her best so that Harry could not look at any other girl but her. He always thought Ginny looked amazing, even if she was wearing clothes that didn't fit her right and were rather faded and old. Something about her vibrant eyes and long hair always seemed to avert his attention, and her smile never failed to make even his saddest moment a little brighter. She was always happy, even if she didn't have much and her family couldn't give her the best. Maybe that was what attracted him to her in the beginning, but now… and even unluckier soul seemed to have caught more than just his eyes with the nastiest spell ever conjured. Harry thought for a second that he had a soft spot for the less fortunate, and the more unfortunate the better.
"You look fine! You're hair is unruly, your eyes are green, and your clothes actually fit! Stop fretting and let's go!" Ron whined as he tugged at Harry's arm with a sluggish attempt to pry him from the mirror.
"I have to look my best!" Harry pretended to slick back his hair, but it was short-lived as Ron hurled a spell that shot the comb from Harry's hand. "I was going to use that."
"It didn't like your hair very much anyways. C'mon."
As soon as they left the dorm room and headed down the hall towards the stair way that led to the common room, Harry saw Ginny exiting through the portrait. Even within the few seconds that he saw her, he could tell that she really dressed up that night for him and he was nervous that he hadn't fought for his chance to comb his hair. He stopped mid step and was ready to turn around when Ron pressed his hands against his chest. "Stop the rubbish. What are you worried about? You have a date!" Ron gestured towards his sister who was looking as radiant as ever, Harry reminded himself.
"That's not it, Ron! I just don't want to go."
"C'mon! It's just a little social event! Everyone's wearing jeans!"
"I know! I just don't feel like being paired off."
Ron titled his head and raised a brow. "Are things not going well between you two?"
That conversation was the exact one Harry wish to discuss in the least with Ron. "No." He said flatly. "We're fine. I just feel like I need some breathing space."
"You know, you both have been a little distant. What gives?"
"School. I've been busy. She's been busy. We both need our space."
"That's troll shit. I know you, Harry. You couldn't part yourself from her before."
"Yeah, well air isn't as overrated as it was before." Harry pushed passed Ron. This was not the time, or night, to talk about his insecurities with Ginny. Still bearing with his confusion about his sexuality, he had no business trying to understand by another's mean.
Ron followed him down the stairs and together they left with Percy and a few others. The halls were are dim and cold as ever, but upon approaching the Great Hall, Harry saw that the elves wasted no efforts in the décor that brightened the entrance and the courtyard. Much like the Yule Ball, everything was dazzling with silver, floating crystal lights and the halls that smelled of pine. Harry inhaled and softly smiled. It was really nice, and McGonagall was wearing her deepest emerald green robes. She greeted them with a smile then moved on. Just beyond her was Ginny.
When her eyes fell onto Harry, she did something like a double take and then her lips curled deviously. Either that or she was trying to control her smile. She then swung herself a little from side to side and looked down. Harry couldn't have imagined that he looked that fantastic. He knew that he didn't clean up like she did every day, but he shaved regularly and attempted to tame his hair. Harry looked up at the ceiling, hoping that there wasn't anything floating around that might've triggered her smile. When Harry looked back down at Ginny, she was moving pass Hermione and Luna, who were both forwarding their approval with a smile, towards him. She paused just a foot away and her smile really took over then and she displayed a small nest of slightly misaligned teeth. Harry smiled back, though it was crooked and slightly forced. "You look great," Harry said.
"As do you," Ginny responded with a brief curtsy.
To Harry, Ginny was as tender to the eyes as a floral portrait. Very pretty, easy to behold, admire, and even perhaps purchase to hang in the entrance hall. Such a portrait that pretty would attract the guests' eyes and maybe initiate a casual conversation that would soon grow old and then forgotten. "I like what you did to your hair," Harry curled his fingers around his hair which made it look more like he was calling her mad. And, maybe subconsciously he was.
Harry then wondered how long such a style took, and if he involved advance magic. It had to, because Harry couldn't fathom such hair making sense when physics were involved. Did girls always do such work for one occasion? Did they end up sleeping with it? That did not sound very comfortable.
"You're really pretty tonight." Harry smiled again, but the attraction he felt towards Ginny was the same he felt towards a pretty rose. See it, sniff it, maybe touch it and if you're feeling thoughtful, clip it and give it to your mum to fond over and then walk away. There was no desire to keep it, to hold it, or caress it with the same urgency Harry once felt towards Ginny.
Ginny reached for his hand, which Harry received without hesitation. Tonight should be a fun night for them and their friends. Just hopefully he would not have to bear the burden of Ginny for the entirety of the night. Ron, Percy, Hermione and Luna followed Harry and his date into the Great Hall, which was covered in an assortment of sliver blues and lights. The ceiling was bewitched to represent a snowy night sky, and everywhere small snowflakes could be seen falling. Harry pressed on until he could see a long table filled with an assortment of temping, eatable arrangements.
The tables, which were placed more towards the front of the hall, were simply decorated with a delicate, shimmering cloth, a few candles and a centerpiece that resembled a miniature Christmas tree. No tables were assigned to either students or house. Thus, students freely mingled.
In the far corner, where a tall silver tree had been erected and covered with enough ornaments to cover every branch was a long line of students and flashes of light. A photographer was taking the picture of every happy couple in attendance. Harry swallowed and hoped to himself that he wouldn't have to make his way over there by the end of the night.
Harry followed Ron and Hermione to a table closet to the dance floor, which, to Harry's convenience, had a clear view of the faculty's table. Though his eyes were settled on Ron as he pulled back the seat, he was taking care to not notice Ginny waiting for him to pull back her seat. He then slipped into his seat and strategically slipped into conversation between Ron and Hermione. Soon, they were joined by Percy and two of his mates. "Looking a little down, Potter. Reckon these will cheer you up." Harry watched him curiously as Percy reached into his pocket and pulled out several tiny bags just big enough to hold a dainty ring.
"Look at these beauties." Percy touched the bags with the very tip of his wand and they all popped back into size with a fairly large branch of mistletoe encased. "Got them while in Hogsmeade. Some old fellow was selling them like hot cakes. Thought they would be appropriate this evening." With a swift wave, the bags disbursed to all the men of the table.
Harry reached out and took the floating mistletoe back into his hand then shrunk it so that he may slip it into his pocket. Ginny smiled then said, "They're really quite gorgeous."
"Yes, but don't handle them. They'll give you a nasty rash."
The conversation continued, followed by the Christmas feast. While Percy remained in deep talk with his friends, Harry's thoughts were elsewhere… and the mistletoe was ever present in his pocket.
When the feast was over and the music could be heard over the forks and knives, students began their evening dance. Ginny was escorted by Hermione and a few other girls without another glance at Harry. Percy then approached Harry quietly and whispered, "Things don't seem to be going well… but perhaps you'll have a little luck tonight." He winked then went off to join the others.
No… Harry thought. For the one he wished to persuade was a man not to be tried with. But the more Harry thought of the mistletoe in his pants, the more possible his goal seemed… and the more he ached for those black robes to be upon him.
Harry breathed in and focused on the dance floor. He was rather eager to practise what he had learned, but even more so to dance with the man who taught him the art of language in the movement of the body. Snape was truly a magnificent dancer with his robes always flowing in such a way that gave them life. Ever careful were his steps… calculated, taken with care, graceful… Severus Snape. Unknowingly, Harry sat. His eyes laid heavily upon Snape, and it was so obvious, Ron had to come between the eyes' path and the figure of attachment. Harry could not blink until the final beat of the song. When everyone applauded, Ron whispered, "Sorry… but it ain't normal, Harry. Are you really staring at the bloody git?"
"That was uncalled for," Harry rose and turned away from his friend just as Snape disappeared into the adjacent gardens.
Harry had only just turned the corner when already Snape was not to be seen, and it was to no surprise. The man's black robes could perfect disappear into the folds of shadows of the tall, snow covered bushes. This seemingly formidable obstacle served to heighten his senses. Several more careful steps into the maze and his determination boiled in his stomach and enflamed his skin. He was going to find Snape whether his conscience was willing to guide him or not. For the heart was never one to side with logic. As if led by a hand, Harry carried on left towards a maze of tall white rose bushes whose shadows matched the depth and thickness of the bushes. All was too quiet and too still. Harry's own breathing slowed to a steady pace and he remained mindful until he was suddenly yanked aside. He hadn't the moment to dwell in surprise because a sharp tone redirected his state of mind. "Return to your date."
"Professor?" Still, Harry's voice had cracked in surprise.
"I do not have time for this tonight." Snape's grip around Harry's arm had tightened.
"What are you doing out here?" Harry whispered while glancing between Snape's apparently unyielding grip and his eyes.
"Where is… Ms. Weasley?" Snape's hold on Harry somehow managed to strengthen.
"Inside, dancing I believe. What business is this of hers?"
"Her boyfriend is outside with his professor. This is very much her business."
"It's just us, Professor." At last, Snape released Harry.
The snow fell quietly and neither soul moved or pondered on anything else besides the eyes into which they gazed. "It's Christmas…," was Harry's poor excuse. His head tilted forwards ever so slightly and then his thoughts returned to the mistletoe in his left pocket. There it was, just waiting for its moment and Harry could not pass the opportunity no matter how childish.
"Stay warm," were supposed to be Snape's parting words before turning away.
About midstride, Harry's impulsive behaviour blurted, "Wait!"
The look upon the professor's face had made Harry wish he had held his tongue. Well, almost that is. Harry was not one to gather his thoughts or words before acting. Tonight, on this glorious evening, he was responding to only what he thought was necessary to get what he wanted.
Snape was barely able to take two strides before he felt a bit of familiar magic approaching him, steadily, harmlessly, yet pressing to be heeded.
Snape was taken aback when he realised that the boy who was currently pursuing him would resort to such juvenile tactics, yet it was charmingly Muggle of him. Snape's eyes had only beheld the small green branch with the little white berries before it began to sway in gentle current back towards Harry. There it hovered over Harry's head and mischievously shuck its berries. Snape knew mistletoes to have no magical attributions of its own, but the superstitions that were associated with it still weigh heavily in people's minds and hearts. Harry's insinuation could not have been clearer, and it, Snape dared to admit to himself, warmed his cheeks. Snape had lost count of how many times Harry has tried something with him.
Harry inhaled sharply, bringing Snape from his thoughts."Kiss me."
Snape wanted to close his eyes, close the world from them, and then give Harry… something real. "You are a fool." He felt an unyielding exhaust extending from the fragments of his thoughts to his whole self.
Snape took a step forward then withdrew his wand. "This will not happen again."
Harry was half ready to close his eyes when the sudden smell of burning wood followed by crackling and a loud pop startled him. There above, the mistletoe was aflame and it's little, grey ashes were falling slowly to the snow paved ground; a flicker of hope gone before its chance to blossom.
His crestfallen state was short lived, however. Something was being pressed into his palm and when Harry came too, he was holding a small white parcel. His frown grew into a funny smile which somehow became even more awkward once he realised Snape was gazing at him. There was something soft and sad about those eyes, and Harry wanted to believe it was Snape's reluctance to indulge in anything he thought he was undeserving of. "This is great!" Harry then said while looking at the tiny, carefully wrapped parcel that was clearly intended to be delivered, but once again his name was off.
Please deliver to
Two Left Feet
"I wanted to get you something too, but I wasn't sure you'd except…" Harry's thoughts scatted and his eyes fell shut the second Snape's lips touched his cheek.
Harry's entire being shuttered with a heavy desire and an ache for more. But when Harry's eyes finally remembered how to see, the expected soft smile from his accomplice's face was instead cringed into an angry, fixed gaze. "Sir?"
"How old are you?"
Harry thought of a few quick remarks he could have said in place of his age, but when it came to, Harry instead heard himself reply, "Eighteen."
Harry plotted down beside Ron, who had contented himself with watching the others dance. "Where the bloody hell have you been?" he asked in a rather even tone.
"Cooling my head."
"For an hour?"
Harry casually shrugged.
"What's with you?"
"I just needed air, alright?"
It was then that Ginny spotted Harry and quickly came to his side, "Harry," she was expectantly shocked and quite worried. "Where have you been?"
Seeing Ginny nearly at the edge or breaking, but doing her best to restrain her emotions somehow reached Harry. She always knew how. He understood… he had ruined her night thus far, and though he really didn't want to, he felt he owed her a dance. Harry had wanted to believe it was the least he could do, but given his latest sentiments, it was probably the most he could offer her. He never answered her. He took her hand and led her towards the crowd of freely dancing students. To Harry, they felt very still in his moment with Ginny.
"Harry?"
Harry's eyes looked at her as if she wasn't there.
"Harry?"
He then shook his head and step forwards, leading her into a slow dance though others were moving at a quicker tempo. "I'm sorry, Ginny."
"Are you alright?"
"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you like I should've been."
"It's alright. I'm sure there are other things that need your attention. I understand. Whatever it is." Despite everything she still smiled. "Whatever it may be."
"You're amazing, Ginny," Harry smiled back at her and they continued in a slow dance even long after the song had ended.
At about midnight, the Gryffindor common room filled with the sound of ruffling and shuffling as students scrambled to get into their beds, exhausted from their long evening of dancing. Harry gave Ginny a sweet parting kiss before following Ron to their beds. "Well that was… nice," Ron commented as he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the side.
"Yes I suppose."
Ron kicked off his dance shoes then yanked the covers over his head as he snuggled his face into his pillow. "Augh, why do we have to be up early tomorrow!"
"What?" asked Harry.
"Tomorrow the train leaves at ten in the morning. You are coming aren't you? We were going to go to Romania and visit my brother, but the family wants a quiet sit in this year. You know, after everything that's happened…."
"Is your mum alright?"
"She's been having more good days, so says dad. I can't wait to see my parents and my brothers. You're like family to us, so we'd really like you there. Plus, I bet they'll want you and Ginny to show off what you've learn in dance."
"I was scared of that," Harry kicked off his shoes and also pulled the covers over his body.
"But you're coming, right?"
Harry sighed, "Yeah. Sure."
It only took Ron a few minutes after that before Harry could hear light snoring. He turned his back to his mate then felt something pressing in his pocket. Excitement nearly made his jump from his bed as he flipped over and pulled from his pocket the small, seemingly flat parcel. On the back, there was a small note that Harry had overlooked.
Two Left Feet,
You haven't improved. If you've been a nice boy this year, ask Santa to bring you a new right foot.
Happy Christmas.
S.S.
Harry undid the sealer and a cassette popped out and nearly smacked Harry in the face. Luckily, habit allowed him to catch it with timely reflexes. The cassette had no title, but another note.
Practise will not make you perfect, but it certainly will help.
"Wow!" Harry could not believe Snape knew of these devices, let alone make a mix tape. "Wow…" This was great. Now he just had to find a radio with a player.
Harry held the cassette against his chest, quietly wondering what was becoming of him and his old nemesis. Whatever they were doing, it was slowly unraveling.