"Well, Miss Snape," Black smirked, when Charles had at last stomped off, "Shall we?"
Having finished posing his innocent question to the still-flustered woman, he offered the frowning woman his arm. But while he had expected some hesitation, the outright refusal to grab the proffered limb puzzled him.
"Mr. Black," She drawled, "While I appreciated your earlier assistance, I cannot accept your offer of a dance."
"Why ever not?" Sirius questioned with a smile. "We are at a ball, are we not?"
"I refuse your offer as it is disingenuous." Snape elaborated. "And as a matter of principal I only accept offers that are genuine in nature. And sometimes not even not then."
Sirius could not help but laugh at her bluntness, appreciative of the candor after having dealt with what seemed an eternity of empty flatteries and hollow pleasantries from the young women that had been flocking to him all evening. But true to her nature, the Slytherin took his mirth for mockery and looked prepared to either stomp off or slap him. Knowing that denial of his 'crime' would do him no good in the face of a woman so stubborn, he opted instead for the tactic of distraction.
"Miss Snape, I do believe a waltz is starting."
"I believe you are correct." She agreed, looking decidedly away from his still proffered arm.
"If you would just accept my arm, Miss Snape, I will gladly lead you unto the dance floor."
Unable to ignore the arm any longer, Snape looked up into his face with a look of exasperation.
"Have I not already told you, Mr. Black, that I do not accept disingenuous offers to dance?"
Before his stint in Azkaban, Sirius would have surely wanted to throttle the woman for being so impossibly obstinate. But the thirteen years in his isolated cell had given him time to reflect, as well as mature, and his former impatience had now been replaced with a certain maturity and ability to understand the behaviors of those who had once infuriated him.
"You wound me, Miss Snape, in assuming my offer was not at all genuine. For I never ask a woman to dance without cause."
"I dare say you have no cause to ask me to dance with you."
"On the contrary." Sirius dismissed. "You'll find that I have two reasons to ask you to partner me."
"Do not mistake my question for agreement, but what is the first?"
As Sirius had predicted, the skinny woman's curiosity rendered her incapable of walking away from an unfinished conversation.
"Perhaps I am wrong in my assumptions, Miss Snape, but I do believe Mr. Montague would find it far from amusing if he failed to spot me dancing with you."
Unable to refute such a sound point, Snape frowned petulantly.
"A fair enough observation, but what of the second reason, Mr. Black?"
"Forgive me my candor, Miss Snape, but I must give voice to my greatest desire of the evening. Which, I will admit, has been to dance with you. Not only do I wish to make my amends, for I have harassed you greatly, but so too do I wish to dance with the woman whom I know has the reputation of being one of the finest dancers."
"If I am not mistaken," The prim lady frowned, "There a great number of women in our company who are far prettier than me, as well as more amicable toward you."
"Miss Snape," Sirius grinned, "I dare say you are mistaken."
In truth, Severus was not in any shape or form difficult to look upon. Having cast aside her customary shade of black, the potion-enthusiast stood before him in a finely-made gown the color of pink roses, the softer color now serving to lend a little life to her ghostly flesh. Better yet, the Occlumens had gone so far as to put up her hair, revealing to both Sirius and the world a pair of very ravishing eyes. If only the woman would smile and eat more, he mused, as the scrawny creature really was much to boney and dour for anyone's taste.
Severus made no answer to his compliment, but rather placed a delicate hand upon his arm in way of acquiescing to his request for a dance. Forgiving the silence, Sirius guided the mute through the maze of bodies crowding the dance floor until at long last he located a favorable position beneath the light of the chandelier. Behaving with surprising dignity, after having been forced by social protocol to accept a dance she had not wanted to accept, the pallid woman placed her hands upon his shoulders and allowed him the privilege of putting his hands upon her waist.
Wordlessly they began to dance, painfully formal yet graceful despite it. And while Sirius could tolerate the unyielding primness in his partner, he soon found he could not much stomach the chilly silence.
"You are remarkably light on your feet." Sirius observed, obliging his partner to speak.
"Do you make it a rule, Mr. Black, to talk while you are dancing?" She queried, only narrowly avoiding Alecto Carrow's clumsy elbow.
"I must admit that I do enjoy the occasional conversation whilst dancing." Sirius admitted, smiling softly. "One must speak a little during such an event, after all, as it would look decidedly odd for a partnership to be entirely silent for the duration of a song. Furthermore, Miss Snape, I was taught that a gentleman must always strive to provide a conversation when in the presence of those shyer than him."
"Do you imagine me to be shy, Mr. Black?"
"As you stand in such stark contrast to my own outgoing personality," Sirius lectured, "I must assume that you are, indeed, in possession of a shy nature. For I find you very reluctant to speak unless you must, and I know you to wilt beneath the light of an audience."
"What a markedly astute observation." Snape begrudgingly admitted. "And as I must not decide upon my own personality, I find I am forced into accepting your statements as fact."
They were then silent again, until the musicians struck up a foxtrot without warning and roused the half-asleep crowd into a frenzy of polite excitement.
"Might I impose upon you for yet another dance, Miss Snape?"
Surveying the crowded floor with a graceful crane of her milky neck, Severus frowned as she realized there would be no easy escape.
"Very well, Mr. Black. You may have your second dance."
Not seeming as distraught as she might have at being forced into another dance with her former tormenter, the skinny Slytherin moved into position and ever so slightly relaxed her stiff posture.
"Miss Snape," Sirius remarked, guiding his partner across the floor, "I do so hope that Mr. Avery will not grow cross with me for hogging you to myself for two dances."
"You'll find that Mr. Avery has already left." She evaded. "It seems a matter of great importance has called him away."
"It must be to his sorrow, Miss Snape. For when last I saw the two of you together it looked as if you were a couple newly married."
"Mr. Avery and I are very well-acquainted with one another." Severus agreed, her cheeks coloring ever so slightly.
Saying nothing more on the subject of her good friend, Severus craned her swanlike neck to jostle an escaped whisp of hair from her face. Had Sirius been in the company of a woman he was more intimate with, he might have taken the liberty of rectifying the errant strand himself. But as it was, his current partner was a woman who could scarcely tolerate his presence- let alone his innocent flirtations.
"My, Mr. Black, you certainly have the pick of dancers tonight." Slughorn observed, waltzing past them with Primrose Parkinson in his arms.
"I have been most highly gratified indeed, my good sir." Sirius assured. "For such superior dancing is not very often seen."
Snape might have beamed at the compliment, but was so quick to hide it behind a stoic mask that Sirius began to doubt the expression had even existed. But wanting to take full advantage of her improved humor, if indeed it had improved, he began their conversation anew- determined to coax her into a subject they might both discuss at length.
"Forgive me, Miss Snape, but Mr. Slughorn's interruption has made me forget what we were speaking of."
"I do not believe we were speaking much at all." Quipped the reserved woman. "In fact, I dare say that Mr. Slughorn could not have interrupted two people in the room who had any less to say betwixt themselves."
"Then let us begin a new discussion."
"We have tried, rather unsuccessfully, to strike up a meaningful discussion. Let us forget such a lofty goal and concentrate, instead, on our dancing."
Not to be dissuaded from his ambition, and perhaps encouraged by the challenge his partner was presenting him, Sirius shifted the topic to that of literature.
"Books." He announced. "What think you of books?"
"Books?" Snape smirked at the very word. "Oh no, sir, we shant speak on such a subject. For I am certain that we have never read the same, or at the very least never with the same feelings."
Sirius frowned at the assumptions, but maintained his composure all the while.
"Miss Snape, I am sorry to find that you think so lowly of me as to believe I am ill-read. However, if that is truly the case, then I believe we shall much discussion on the subject of differing opinions. Let us compare them."
"No, Mr. Black." She refused, her step faltering minutely. "I cannot talk of literature as I dance. My mind is full of other things."
"How unpleasant, Miss Snape, that your thoughts should interrupt you from the enjoyment of your hobbies."
"Indeed." The curmudgeon agreed.
Sirius was about to suggest that a little mindless conversation might serve to sooth her overstimulated mind when he noticed her pallid face flush bright red. Concerned, he slowed his steps and held his breath, relaxing only slightly as the foreign color left the Slytherin's face.
"Miss Snape, are you quite alright?"
"Yes, Mr. Black, I am perfectly well."
The well-delivered lie might have easily been believed had it not been for her face flushing violently once more. But rather than pressure his companion for a more satisfactory answer, Sirius steered her away from beneath the chandelier, figuring that the heat it exuded must be the culprit. Once assured of her regained comfort, after a full two minutes had elapsed without her face coloring, Sirius gave voice to an observation he had made only moments ago.
"I recall you having once said, to my dear friend Mr. Lupin, that you hardly ever forgive, and that your resentment, once earned, was unappeasable. Yet, her you are with me, and I dare say I thought I caught a hint of a smile on your face not too long ago."
"I am a very cautious person, I suppose." She allowed, opting not to comment on his accusation of her smiling.
"But do you not worry that your hastily formed prejudices might blind you?" Sirius dared to ask, pleased to have at last cultivated a conversation with more substance.
"Merlin, Mr. Black, must you ask me such insipid questions?"
"I should like to get a better read of your character, that is all."
"And what, Mr. Black, is your account of me at the present?"
"I cannot decipher it at all." Sirius admitted. "For I hear so very many accounts of you, each differing greatly, that I fear I am greatly puzzled."
"I can readily believe," Answered she gravely, "That the reports of me do vary greatly. But I do wish, Mr. Black, that you would not be so eager to sketch my character, as there is reason to fear that the result would discredit me in your eyes even more than our past has."
"But if I do not discover who you are as a person, I fear I shall never be presented with another opportunity."
Before she could offer up a clever retort, one that was sure to be sarcastic in nature, she stumbled, her suddenly pinched face flashing alternating through an extensive cycle of color- at one moment a robust red and the next a sickly white. Before Sirius could even react, much less steer her away from the crowd, she fainted straight away. Had it not been for his reflexes, diminished though they had been in Azkaban, the debutant would have smashed her delicate head on the flooring.