Chapter 28) The Last Dance

Selected Listening: Till Kingdom Come- Coldplay

The day of the Transfiguration exam, Anastasia knew for sure that Minerva was angry with her. She walked up to turn her exam in and was met with a scathing glare from beneath the professor's rectangular glasses.

Anastasia shuddered back, leaving the papers there.

She waited outside until the last student had left the classroom and then slipped back in, an anxious stitch hanging in her chest. Minerva looked up and glared.

"What do you want?"

Unsure whether it was safer to address her formally or informally, Anastasia began to speak.

"Professor Mcg—" and then she noticed the tears on the professor's cheeks, "Minnie," she sighed. "What, what's wrong?" she whispered. Anastasia approached her desk fully and Minerva stood, towering over the girl.

"What gives you the right to—" Minerva decided against it and tried again. "What makes you think I—look…I understand if…" But she was too furiously upset to phrase her sentence the way she wanted it, and eventually gave up on saying it the right way. "Why did you bother going with Narcissa to get a dress when I already bought you one?!"

Anastasia hugged her own stomach abashedly.

"Minnie, I—"

"Do you not like the one I bought you?" she asked.

"No, no I love it—"

"Is it too cheap for your tastes?"

"Minnie, I—"

"Are you ashamed of Gryffindor?"

"No, of course not—"

"Are you ashamed of being raised by me?" Minerva finally stuttered out, voice cracking, tears falling down her face.

Anastasia knew very well her actions could only be fixed with action at this point. She stopped trying to apologize with words and ran around the other side of the desk to hug Minerva fiercely around the middle.

Minerva broke down crying over her shoulder, and her tears fell onto the back of Anastasia's robes. Anastasia held on until she calmed down, being unfamiliar with making anyone, especially an adult, so mad or feeling horrible about it.

"Of course not. You mean everything to me, and I am so infinitely proud to have been raised by such a strong, wise, and courageous woman." She pulled away briefly. Someone must have told her, she supposed Snape.

"I love the dress you gave me. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen…and I'll be honored to wear it the night of the Yule ball," she said, although unsure of how she would wiggle out of wearing Madame Zabini's dress.

Minerva nodded. "But I still don't understand, why did you go with that—"

"I went with her because I was hoping Narcissa would tell me something important, but I never got the chance to ask her, and because she was trying to make up for what happened this summer. Madame Zabini's brand is blood-inclusive, and Narcissa was trying to show me she wouldn't bring me to one of those places again."

Minerva looked away at the stonework around the arch of the classroom door.

"I feel like I've done all I could to bring you up right…and that woman is trying to take it away from me every minute."

Anastasia brought her in for another hug.

"I really look up to Narcissa," she admitted, "but, to her I'm like a fix-it project. She's always trying to doll me up or stick me in front of a camera or suck me into pureblood society.

"But to you, I am your daughter, and that I will always value above all else, and I'm very happy to be your daughter by bond."

And to this, Minerva glowed.

Anastasia, knowing she couldn't go much longer without solving the dress problem, went after Blaise soon as they both finished the ancient runes exam and walked out the classroom door.

"Hey, Zabini," she called before he could get too far ahead of her.

"What, princess? Want to compare answers? I thought number five on runeic spherical equations was too difficult, even beyond the scope of Professor Babbling's usual trick questions."

"I agree, but it's not about that," Anastasia replied.

"Well then, what is it? Still trying to figure out the best way to tell Malfoy you love—"

"Shh, shh, not that either," Anastasia said flustered, staring at a group of Slytherin girls up ahead. "I wanted to ask you, your mum designed that dress for me, right?"

"Yeah, so?" her frowned.

"And it was photographed for Witch Weekly."

"Right…"

"What happens if I wear something else to the Yule Ball? Am I going to get in trouble or something?"

He stared at her as if she were crazy.

"Why wouldn't you wear it?"

Anastasia sighed heavily. She was hoping not to insult someone else in this whole process.

"I love it, but I have another dress that McGonagall bought me first that is also beautiful, and I promised her I'd wear that. So now I have a conundrum."

Blaise stopped and frowned at her.

"I'm not going to lie. Mum would be pretty miffed if she sees pictures of the actual Yule Ball and not in her dress. Plus, there are other ways you can get in trouble. Narcissa probably promised Witch Weekly first access to photograph your dress as part of the deal."

Anastasia sighed hopelessly.

"I don't know what to do."

"You could do what other celebrities do," Blaise suggested, although she hardly saw herself as a celebrity. "Make a costume change part of the way through."

"Yeah, but after the first dances, whose going to care anyway? And if not, which dress do I wear first?" If she came out wearing the Zabini dress and not the one Minerva bought her, Minerva might be too heartbroken to stay and see the second. If she wore the one Minerva bought her first, then any reporters might take photos of the wrong gown.

"Look, if you're that hung up about it, I can give you a list of spells mum uses for tailoring. Maybe you could alter the dresses together."

"You mean combine them?" she asked.

"More or less, but if you're going to survive in the pureblood aristocracy you have got to do less people pleasing, princess. It's okay to make people angry from time to time. There's only one of you to go around, and you have to consider what's best for your own sanity."

But even when Anastasia considered it that way, she wasn't sure. She didn't want to disappoint either Minerva or her godmother, and the thought of committing to either dress made her feel queasy in opposite ways.

"Yes, if you could send me that list, I'd appreciate it."

"You've got it princess, but you owe me one," Blaise said casually.

"What do I owe you?" she asked cautiously.

"Mm, nothing right now. I'll let you know when something comes up."

Blaise sent the list of spells to her by owl the next day. There were ones for trimming, ones for combining, ones for adding sequins and etcetera. Anastasia was afraid of using them immediately on the two beautiful gowns, so she volunteered Winky to come up to help. Together with Hermione, the two girls summoned kitchen towels of similar colors and cut it together in different ways with the spell, draping it over the small house elf like the paper doll.

Winky, although still saddened by Mr. Crouch's rejection, seemed slightly appeased to play dress up for their sakes.

"No, that's too flashy," Anastasia judged, when they turned the green and gold cloths to a zebra striped pattern.

"Anastasia?" Hermione asked. She had stopped looking at the combinations of towels Winky was modeling and had started staring at the side of Anastasia's head.

"What?" Anastasia asked. "Do I have snow in my hair still?" The Gryffindors had gone out for another snowball fight, a common afternoon activity during the holidays. Hermione shook her head.

"No, it's just that. How is your hair still perfect?" Hermione asked. It was her second insecurity after her teeth. Her bushy mane was barely tamable, although they had found some helpful products the previous year, it still turned fluffy by around four in the afternoon.

"Oh! It's this." Anastasia walked to her dresser and pulled a tub of mousse off the top surface and handed it to Hermione. "They gave it to me at the salon."

"Is it a blood purist brand?" Hermione asked carefully.

"No," Anastasia shook her head. "The mousse is a byproduct of Harry's family's old recipe, Fleamont Potter's. It's produced by another family now, but they kept the name the same. You can use some if you like. I have tons."

When they cut Anastasia's hair short that summer, the stylist warned her that without the mousse, her hair would grow back to the length it had been, and the curled ringlets she wore would never stay the same.

"Just for the Yule Ball, please?" Hermione asked, taking it from her. Anastasia nodded in confirmation, and Hermione returned to the task at hand. "I don't think we need to combine the patterns, I think if we just—"

Hermione whipped her wand across. The gold material they had put winky in came down to her waist, and then the green material flared out from there to the ground.

"That's perfect!" Anastasia beamed. "What do you think, Winky?"

"I suppose. If the lady of castle likes it. Now can Winky have her…her…"

"Your clothes?" Anastasia asked.

"Don't say that word!" she yelled. "But yes…"

Anastasia waved her wand, and the little elf's blue hat, blouse, and skirt reappeared on her.

The rest of the break before Christmas, Anastasia either spent being forced to study mermish in the kitchens by Albus or finding herself tangled up, snogging Draco in a closet or corner.

The good part of studying was that the house elves didn't mind bringing her any kind of tea or coffee she wanted at any time of day, along with little samples of Christmas biscuits and cakes. They didn't even seem to mind when she had to shriek out loud for practice, which she would be much too embarrassed to do in front of her peers in the common room. The worst part was when Albus checked her progress each evening by speaking to her in mermish and she had to speak back.

"You just said that you would like me to fly to Manhattan, not swim to Manchester."

"Ugh!" she whined. "Grandad, why do I have to learn this anyway?"

"You never know when the time will come," he suggested and assigned her more for the next day.

In the evenings, despite all the time Anastasia found herself alone with Draco, she couldn't convince herself to tell him she loved him. Though the lifeline pulled them ever closer, always wanting more, the power of it scared her and told her to stop before it was too late. She would wait until the Yule Ball, when it could be perfect.

Christmas day finally came once again, and it was the best Christmas Anastasia had in years. She wasn't forced to be with her grandparents, she wasn't forced to pretend to be sick, she wasn't forced to pretend to be someone she wasn't. She was just herself.

She woke in the morning to find presents from Albus, Minerva, and Narcissa perched on top of her trunk. From Minerva, she received gold strappy heels to go with her dress. From Albus, a gold ornamented comb to go in her hair. And from Narcissa, a set of emerald earrings and a necklace.

Anastasia spent the morning with the Gryffindors, eating brunch and sharing their candy gifts, avoiding everything the twins tried to give to them. They had another snowball fight on the grounds, and tea at Hagrid's before the girls ran up to get ready at four pm, the boys teasing them about how long it would take.

Four hours. She had four hours, maybe five, until she told Draco she loved him. Why was that so difficult? In a way, they already knew that. It was the lifeline. Why did stating it directly feel like such a big deal?

She put on her own dress, shoes, and accessories along with Hermione and Ginny and the girls spent the rest of their time getting their hair just right. Her short hair came out wavy and light, as if she just spent a breezy day at the shore.

Anastasia glided down the steps of the main staircase. She spotted Minerva ushering the champions into the Great Hall. When the professor closed the door behind Cedric and Cho, she looked up and approached her. Anastasia winced, waiting for her anger to surface again at the sight of the dress. Instead, Minerva smiled warmly, brought her in for an embrace and whispered in her ear.

"You are beautiful always, dear."

After Minerva walked off to assist the other champions, Anastasia went on the search for Draco. A group of Slytherin boys came up the stairs. Besides for Blaise in his fancy dress robes of emerald green snake skin, and Crabbe and Goyle's shoddy look of olive velvet, the rest of them wore standard black and white dress modern dress robes, all of which nearly matching.

She spotted the familiar white-blonde flash of hair and waited. As the other boys parted ways, looking for their own dates, Draco saw her and grinned brightly.

"Well, look at you," he said in awe, running his fingertips down her neck and arm, all the way to her waist, sending shivers up her spine. Draco's icy blue eyes locked her in his gaze, and she smiled back at his coif blond hair and shining smirk. A cologne wafted off his skin that masked his natural scent. It was nice, but not quite him. Her fingers wandered over his arms similarly, and she traced the cufflinks on his jacket with her fingers, emblazoned with a silver M.

A loud throat clearing called all the students to attention. Minerva.

Anastasia shifted to stand next to Draco, hugging his arm. He smirked down at her.

"Good evening," The professor said over the heads of the crowd of students. "In a moment, you will file into the Great Hall after your classmates. Please stay to the sides of the hall to allow space for the champions to ring in the Yule Ball with the first dance. You will wait until the teachers begin joining the dance. That will be your signal to join yourselves."

Anastasia slid her hands down to Draco's. He squeezed hers.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"Not at all."

Minerva waved her wand and the doors opened to reveal the beautiful decorations adorning the castle. All the trees, speckled with shining orbs, dripped in real icicles. Garlands of silver and gold hung from the ceiling. An ice sculpture of a unicorn stood in the middle of the drink table, surrounded by one hundred little frosted glass mugs, ready for punch. A group of reporters stood in the corner, flashbulbs blinking as the students' entered to capture their astonishment.

The students surrounded the area. The music started and the champions took the floor. Anastasia smiled encouragingly at Hermione with Krum and at Harry, who seemed to be having one hell of a time trying to lead Parvati.

Minerva took Albus's hand and led him onto the dance floor, the two of them smiling gayly. The rest of the teachers and students followed one after another, filling the floor with a clamor of uncoordinated feet doing their best to look elegant. The Beaxbatons girls in colors of pale blue, white, and blush danced like snowflakes around the Durmstrang boys in their furs. The Hogwarts students' jewel tones and metallics shone brightly in between. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

"Shall we?" Draco asked, taking her waist and hand. She nodded and allowed him to guide her onto the floor, stepping and twirling with the music. He lifted her through the first jump, and she smiled down at him, enchanted.

"Draco, I—" but the words didn't come out. If she said them, they were drowned by the music. He certainly didn't hear them. Draco simply smiled and lifted her again as the air caught under her. She landed, and he whisked her away again.

It was okay. She could tell him when they had their privacy that evening.

After what felt like an hour of dancing and eating and laughing amicably with the other Slytherins, something Anastasia didn't know she was capable of, she felt her feet begin to tire, and she looked up at Draco.

"Are you ready?" she asked Draco, who was beginning to look a bit listless himself. She thought they would try the astronomy tower first, and if that was taken, the abandoned wing. Although, she didn't want to bother Helena. The secret staircase to her room behind the knight was always an option.

But as Anastasia asked, a group of Durmstrang and Slytherin boys approached them. The same group that had appeared at the tea shop a month prior. The ones that, no doubt, were performing dark magic behind the scenes. They shared darkened looks with Draco, urging him to come along before walking off towards the door.

"What was that about?" Anastasia demanded.

"Can you wait for a minute?" Draco said, holding his hands up to preemptively calm her. "I want to, but I need to handle something first."

Her nostrils flared angrily.

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms and settling into her seat at the table. "I'll be here."

The Weird Sisters took the stage and began to play loud rock music. Anastasia would have been able to enjoy it if it hadn't been for wondering what Draco and the others were up to. After waiting at the table for Draco to return for quite a few moments, Pansy appeared without her date.

"Boys! Am I right? We don't keep them entertained for two minutes and they go run off to do their little dark magic rituals…"

Anastasia looked over to the girl. She hadn't had trouble with Pansy for most of the year. Not since the girl ran off crying on the train, and Anastasia did feel a bit bad for that. Pansy, after all, believed she was destined for Draco due to her lineage.

"I suppose so," she drawled off, looking at the crowds.

"Why don't you come grab a drink with me?" she asked in an inviting voice. Anastasia sighed, watching Hermione twirl with Krum, having the time of her life.

"Sure, why not?" she asked and walked with Pansy to the punch bowl.

"Hi Anastasia," two high voices chimed. Anastasia turned to see who had called her. It was the Greengrass twins, looking stunning in their dark green collared dresses.

"Oh, hi," she said. "Are you two enjoying everything?"

"Course we are, are you?" Daphne asked. She had been hanging off Tracey Davis's arm most of the night as Astoria had of a Durmstrang boy.

"Well, sure, but—" she looked towards the exit.

"Oh, don't mind them," Astoria soothed, picking two cupcakes and handing one to her sister. "They've been like this all year. They can't get enough of whatever spells the Durmstrang crew has in their old books. Waste of time if you ask me."

"Waste of time?" Anastasia asked. Astoria shook her head.

"Dark magic rituals, you know. They take forever, and always end up requiring something awful like killing a mouse or extracting the tongue of a pixie.

Anastasia cringed, hoping Draco wasn't involved in something that awful. She also realized in that moment that he would rather practice dark magic than be with her right then. Maybe it had to do something with their relationship being guaranteed by the lifeline. Maybe he didn't feel as compelled to spend time with his destined love that he'd have forever, or at least, as long as they both lived. She turned back around to find Pansy handing her a drink.

"Here you go," she offered. Her hand hit against Anastasia's and Pansy spilled the red liquid forward onto Anastasia's dark green skirt. "Oops!" Pansy cried.

"Oh, don't worry, it was an accident—" Anastasia started, about to brush it off. She was sure a spell could take out the stain in a second.

Anastasia blinked. A line of foam had started bubbling at the hem of her dress, and as it moved upward, her dress began to vanish.

"You didn't—"

"So much for any plans you had with Draco tonight," she smiled through sly lips and sipped her own untainted drink.

Anastasia yelled and ran, dashing through the crowd, avoiding everyone as the foam crept slowly up the fabric, disintegrating every stitch. She rounded the corner, and sprinted up the stairs to the common room, shouting the password at the Fat Lady just as the line of foam had reached her thighs. The door swung open and she hopped over the ledge of the porthole.

Of course, Draco would take off with the dark magic dingbats, leaving her alone to deal with Pansy. Luckily, since no one would be in the common room, at least she'd be alone to cry.

The line of foam reached her hips, her underwear now visible.

"Woah!" a familiar voice yelled. A large, knitted throw blanket hit Anastasia in the side of the head. She caught it and wrapped it around her body.

She thought she would be alone, but the person who threw her the blanket sat on the couch, still in his suit, tie askew, staring.

"Fred!" she chirped embarrassedly. "I-I um…"

"Having a little too much fun, are we?" he asked judgmentally, but as he assessed her expression his tone shifted, "or maybe not."

Anastasia stared and then blinked. She realized it was the first time she'd seen him without his brother.

"Fred, what are you doing? Where did Angelina go?"

He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Her friends wanted to fawn over the lead singer of the Weird Sisters, not really my style."

"Ha." she laughed without emotion and realized that the gold bodice top of her dress survived unharmed. She lowered the blanket and tied it like a beachy skirt around her waist before joining Fred on the couch. She covered her face in her hands, elbows resting on her knees.

"Pansy poured acid potion on my dress. It's fine…it's not like this dress took hours to design and alter or anything."

"But where did your date go?" Fred asked. She shook her head.

"Not sure. I think he ran off with the Durmstrang crew for whatever dark magic dung they're always talking about."

"Sounds like our dates didn't actually want dates."

Anastasia stared into the fire. Draco truly cared for her, loved her even, but she wasn't sure if that was enough to outweigh his more undesirable dispositions. She had wanted to spend the night by his side, in his arms, snogging and whispering to him until they wandered into more romantic exploits…but she also supposed fourth-year boys were just that…immature, impulsive, oblivious boys.

And if Draco couldn't even pay enough attention to her to realize she wanted to tell him something, what was the point?

She desperately needed to change the subject.

"Is that a record player?" Anastasia asked. The small leather suitcase sat in front of the fireplace, records unwrapped beside it, and one docked, ready to play.

"Got it for Christmas…George doesn't share my more classical sensibilities when it comes to music…so I haven't been able to play it much yet."

Anastasia smiled. Despite people calling them carbon copies, the twins did have their own personalities, and it was Anastasia's opinion that Fred got the better of the two.

Fred rose from the sofa, stretched, and turned to her, offering his hand.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Well, if we aren't going to have the last dance with our dates, we might as well dance with each other."

Anastasia shook her head with a grin, took Fred's hand, and he pulled her up to her feet. He shot his wand at the player. A soft jazz drifted slowly as the record began to spin.

"How do we even dance to this?" she asked.

"Follow my lead, princess." Fred grinned back, took her hand and her waist, and she swayed back and forth, blushing, grinning up at him only when she could summon the courage.

And for a moment, no matter how small, Anastasia felt sheltered and safe from the critiques of all the world.