Author's Note: This chapter borrows heavily from MandyinKC's story A Girl Like Her. For reals, go read Mandy's stuff, it's all so good. This does not fit with Mandy's head canon though - she has been super sweet and kind in encouraging me to write it anyways, and I am grateful to her for that.
My Muse wanted to put these two in an unavoidable situation and see what would happen. My thought was, "Sixteen year olds gonna do what sixteen year olds do" after all. And sixteen is a big difference from fifteen, when Night Patrol took place.
While this chapter itself is NOT explicit, one of the bonus scenes is NSFW and is clearly marked as such.
Shut Up and Dance
Oh, I wanna dance with somebody
I wanna feel the heat with somebody
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody
With somebody who loves me
Whitney Houston, 1987
Yule Ball, 1994 - Alicia's POV
Going to the Yule Ball with Lee and George was...safe. And honestly, she knew it would be fun. It wasn't as if she didn't like them; they were two of her best mates. Exuberant, exciting, always laughing, always cutting up and having a good time. Of course she would have fun with Lee and George.
But as she watched Angelina and Fred dancing wildly in the center of the crowd, with George occasionally glancing at both of them in a way she'd never seen before (wistful? jealous? resigned? all three?), and Katie beaming as her date spun her under his arm, and Hermione gyrating in a very un-Hermione-ish way with Victor Krum while tendrils of hair came loose from her sleek bun, Alicia wondered what it would feel like to dance close and sexy and flirtatious with someone you had a crush on.
Not, of course, that she had seen her most recent crush much tonight. Only once, in fact. When she came down the marble staircase, flanked by George and Lee, she noticed a cluster of sixth and seventh year Slytherins near the door to the dungeons. Most seemed paired off, but Adrian Pucey was standing against the wall, arms crossed, seemingly dateless, wearing sleek forest-green robes. He was smiling at something the others were saying, but the smile looked a bit tight and forced.
As though secretly bored with the conversation, he glanced around the Entrance Hall in a haughty sort of way before his gaze unintentionally fell upon her. She was instantly and immensely glad she had chosen the wine-red velvet dress robes with thin spaghetti straps over her shoulders and the sweetheart neckline when she'd shopped for gowns that summer in Diagon Alley with Angelina. Coupled with a rhinestone necklace, earrings, and barrettes, she hoped she looked attractive. Heck, she must look at least somewhat attractive, she thought giddily, because his eyes widened just a fraction, his smile disappeared and his jaw went slightly slack (though at least his mouth didn't drop open). She gave him a small smile, and he blushed and quickly looked away.
He was right, of course. It was best if they weren't seen exchanging looks, even from this distance. She didn't need Lee or George to pick up on whatever this was (nothing, she reminded herself firmly, it was nothing), and she especially didn't want any of the Slytherins to notice.
Behind her, she suddenly felt one of her long curls lift away from the rest of the mass of her perfectly curled hair, and she wondered for a brief, panicked second if Fred had seen what happened, but his next words made her relax rather gratefully.
"Why don't you wear your hair like this more often?" he asked, followed by a loud smack. "Ow! What the hell, Ang?"
"Leave 'Licia's hair alone," Angelina said in a tone of both severity and complete unconcern. "Took her an hour to do it and she doesn't need you messing it up."
"No wonder you don't curl it much," George mused. "An hour? Damn."
"Well, I think it looks smashing," Lee put in cheerfully. "You should definitely wear it like that more often, Al."
She laughed. "Thanks. I'll just forgo that extra hour of sleep every morning to curl it for all of you then, shall I?"
In the ensuing discussion while they waited, and then in the mass of students shuffling into the Great Hall, Alicia lost sight of her crush. The sixth-year Gryffindors picked tables near where their house table was normally located, but Alicia sat with her back to where the Slytherin table normally was. It wasn't particularly fair to Lee and George if she was distracted all night, so she resolved to be attentive to her two mates and forget about Adrian Sexy-as-Fuck Pucey. It helped that they were joined by Katie Bell and her Ravenclaw date (a Chaser on the Ravenclaw team), so the talk was predominantly about Quiddtich. Thank God that Kenneth and Viola sat with a crowd of Ravenclaws at a nearby table; else those two would have been bored to tears.
Then, when the dancing started, there were just so many people and so much movement that she never noticed if he was in the crowd or not. The lights were dimmer than usual, so finding anyone was hard if you weren't attached at the hip, and Lee and George dutifully stayed with her. They continuously spun her between the two of them or else sandwiched her in between them, while laughing the whole time about sharing her — except those few times when she caught George glancing towards his twin and Angelina. Other than that, Alicia was having a great time. That was the whole point, after all. She even temporarily forgot about her crush.
But after an hour of upbeat songs and George and Lee's maniac dancing, she was getting thirsty. So she yelled in Lee's ear that she was going to get something to drink and told him to keep dancing, that she'd be right back, because her throat was practically raw. She slipped into the crowd before Lee could offer to get the drink for her, as she was sure he would do if she gave him half a chance.
Dodging elbows and shoulders, Alicia weaved and danced her way through the crush of students, managing to avoid Fred and Angelina, Katie and Brad, Roger and Fleur, Chrysanthe and Danny, Cedric and Cho, a dozen more couples she knew... the drink table was just in sight between the bodies...
But then, out of nowhere, the absolutely insufferable Cormac McClaggen backed into her without even noticing he'd done so. She stumbled into another person who, miraculously, caught her with one arm around her waist, steadied her, and thankfully didn't yell at her to watch where she was going or shove her away in irritation.
Fisting her hand in the arm of oddly familiar forest green robes to regain her balance (where had she seen that color tonight?), she looked up.
Great fucking Godric...
The apology she'd been about to utter died on her lips.
His hair was mused gorgeously from over an hour of hard dancing and there was a drop of sweat slipping from his temple down to his jaw, to say nothing of the light sheen of sweat over his neck and face. Did that sheen go all the way down his chest to his abs? she wondered wildly, and she knew her face immediately flushed at the very thought. At the same time, he realized exactly who he'd caught and for a half-second he was slack-jawed again; this time his mouth was slightly open. His breath visibly caught, but his eyes also lit up and then he smiled — not that tight, fake smile of earlier, but a real smile, an apparently very rare one she had never seen before, one that made his entire face look completely different. And before Alicia knew what was happening, he grabbed her hand, spun her under his arm and pulled her back into his chest, and suddenly they were dancing.
She had no idea if he had been dancing with a different girl before she bumped into him or not. She had no idea if any other Slytherins were around. All she knew was that he was an amazing dancer and Merlin, but she was breathless with excitement. He had the same passion for dancing that Lee and George had, but he had far more finesse and damn, but he looked flawless doing it. She threw herself into dancing with him in a way she hadn't thrown herself into dancing with her mates. He swirled her fast and danced up close to her until their chests brushed together, then he twirled her under his arm again so her back was to his chest. He trapped her arm against her stomach with his arm just briefly before spinning her back the other way to face him once more. His eyes flared with unfiltered, scalding heat; they raked over her dress as though he wanted to slide it off of her, lingering a second too long on her breasts and cleavage, before flickering back to her face, his gaze smoldering, dark, hungry. His hands were warm and damp against hers as he spun her and pulled her to him again, his entire body moving perfectly with the pounding, deafening beat. Her arms went up over his shoulders — she could feel the definition of his muscles beneath her forearms, but Merlin, had she ever really appreciated just how tall he was? Thank God for her high heels! The crowd suddenly pressed in and she found herself jammed chest to chest with him again, her hands loose behind his neck, against his soft black, slightly-sweaty hair. He flushed and quickly turned her around so her back was to his chest instead.
His breath was abruptly hot against her ear and his face was likely hidden by a couple of her long, swirling curls, almost as though he had deliberately buried his face close to her hair to hide the fact that he wanted to tell her something — his voice wasn't exactly a shout, because he didn't want anyone around them to hear, but she caught the low, feral growl of his words despite the din of the music and the veritable mosh pit around them:
"You look so fucking shaggable, Spinnet... It's driving me crazy..."
She sucked in a quick breath as he spun her away from him, her arms fully extended, before he yanked her back against him once more. Her chest flattened against his as her arms went back to his shoulders to brace herself. His hands fell to her hips, smoothing over the velvet for the briefest of moments, as though if he'd had a second longer to think about it he would have swept them over her arse and ground himself against her, but he didn't. Instead, he leaned back, reached up, and unfastened the collar of his robes and another two buttons, as well as the button-down shirt beneath. A quick view of his smooth chest, shining slick with sweat in the dim light, flashed before her. Damn! He thought she looked shaggable? she thought wildly. Merlin's pants, did he have any idea how he looked?
She swirled around again on the balls of her feet and felt him press up against her back; there were just too many people and they were suddenly locked in the position, moving both with and against each other. She had her hands in the air as she bounced to the music, her head moving from side to side as she closed her eyes and just felt: felt his hands splayed over her stomach to keep her flush against him, felt his hard body pressed against her, felt the way his legs and body dipped and rose and gyrated with the music. His fingers clenched against in the velvet of her dress at her hip as he leaned down to her ear once more, his voice as hoarse and raw as hers felt, with a touch of desperation:
"Merlin, Spinnet, I need you to get the fuck away from me before I do anything else I shouldn't..."
The song seemed to end mere seconds later, the music flowing smoothly into another fast-paced song, and he swiveled away from her in a whirl. Another girl stepped in as the crowd shifted again, and he turned to dance with her instead — a seventh year Hufflepuff in a sparkling gold sequined dress. When the girl shimmied behind him, he caught Alicia's eye and gave her a sultry smile and a quick wink. It was barely there, but she caught it. It meant Thank you for dancing with me, even if we shouldn't have. She flashed him a dazzling smile in return just before he turned back to the Hufflepuff girl. The giddy feeling clawed happily up her chest, threatening to explode, and she quickly headed through the crowd for the refreshment table. She could feel the dampness on her palms where their hands had clasped while dancing. Fucking hell, he thought she looked shaggable. She, Alicia Spinnet — always sandwiched between Angelina and Katie — looked deliciously shaggable to a fit, pureblood Slytherin.
Okay, first, she had to calm the heck down before she went back to George and Lee. She grabbed a glass of punch, gulped it all in one go, and took a deep breath.
That felt better. Another deep breath. She closed her eyes and exhaled. Better, she thought. Her heart rate was dropping again, that was good.
And then...
"Oi! Al!"
Alicia jolted and turned to see Lee and George hurrying up to her. Both of their faces were set, almost annoyed.
"What the heck was that?" George hissed, coming up close to her.
"What?"
"Don't what? me! Why were you dancing with that swotty wanker?"
Lee ranted, "We thought you were getting something to drink!"
Irritation and embarrassment both flared within her. "What are you two on about?" Then, disparagingly, as though she couldn't believe them, "What, you mean Pucey?"
"Yes, Pucey!"
She huffed. "He's not a swotty wanker, he's —"
"The enemy," George interrupted darkly, "which is worse."
Alicia glared at him. "This is a dance, George, not the Quidditch pitch."
Lee interrupted. "But he's a Slytherin!" he complained. "Fuck, Al, he's a damn Slyth—"
"Oh, for crying out loud," Alicia snapped. "Cormac McClaggen bumped into me and nearly knocked me over while I was trying to get over here to the refreshment table! Pucey only grabbed me before I hit the floor! Really, you should be thanking him that I didn't flash the whole school —"
"I wouldn't mind seeing your knickers." Lee grinned sheepishly.
George snickered but rearranged his face when he saw her scowl. "That's beside the point —" he started to say, and, of course, that was when Fred and Angie came up.
"What's up?" Fred asked, grabbing a butterbeer.
"Al here was dancing with a fucking Slytherin arsehole," Lee complained.
"What?" Fred looked horrified and grappled at his chest. "The horror! We should get her up to Madam Pomfrey to check for head injuries —!"
"Oh, lay off! He caught me after McClaggen backed into me! It wasn't like it meant anything!" Alicia lied hotly. "I only danced with him to thank him for saving me from falling to the floor!"
"Who was it?" Angelina looked interested.
"That swotty minted boy, Pucey," George griped. "He was a reserve Chaser last year —"
Angelina's face cracked into a devilish grin. "Oh, hell, he's fit as fuck. I'd dance with him too, if I had the chance."
"Oi! Excuse me! I'm right here!" Fred barked.
"Oh, for fuck's sake." Angelina's grin disappeared. "All of you can lay off. It's just a dance, not the Quidditch pitch."
"That's what I said," Alicia reminded them. "Stop acting like I've committed treason!"
"Wellllll," Lee hedged, frowning at her. "I mean... you kind of are."
Angelina glared at him. "Bollocks, Lee. You, Alicia, and George came stag together. It's not like she's cheating on you. And Pucey's stag too, from what I heard."
An unpleasant feeling suddenly wormed through Alicia's gut. In a way though, hadn't it been cheating on Lee and George? None of them knew she had a recent crush on Pucey. And after all, she had told Lee in the library a few days earlier that she wasn't going to find another date and ditch him; she wasn't that kind of girl. But...her dance with Pucey hadn't been planned, it had just...happened. In fact, if anything, she and Pucey had silently agreed to avoid each other tonight. Still... she could have snatched her hand away, couldn't she? She could have given Pucey a polite smile and ducked out of his grasp before he pulled her in. She should have been the strong one. But no, instead, she had purposefully danced with him when the unexpected opportunity presented itself. She had seen the stark heat in his eyes and she had gone closer, like a moth to a flame. He was almost irresistible since she'd learned he secretly liked her.
She pushed the uncomfortableness away. "Angie's right, Lee," she said quietly. "I didn't do it on purpose. It just happened."
"Well, he'd better hope I don't run into him," Lee growled. "Or I might just hex him..."
Irritation fired within her again. "You know," she said, plunking her cup down on the table behind her. "I need some fresh air."
"I'll go with you!" Lee said. Too eagerly.
"No! I want to be alone, okay?" she clarified. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Al, wait, I didn't mean to upset you —" He reached out to grab her arm as she started to storm away, and she snatched it out of his grasp.
"Alone, Lee. I'll be back in a few minutes! Dance with George."
"I'm tired of dancing with Forge! I want you! You're my one true love, you know that!"
"Ouch, bad luck, bro," she heard Fred snicker to his twin.
But Alicia didn't look back. She stormed out of the Great Hall, through the Entrance Hall, out the front doors, and down the steps into the grottos that had been created for couples that wanted to escape and snog a bit. Except...well, she didn't have anyone to snog, and she certainly wasn't going to snog George or Lee. She had already told Lee she would bloody his nose if he tried, and she absolutely would.
But, said a little voice in her head, you wouldn't bloody Pucey's nose if he tried... you'd throw your arms around those lean, strong shoulders and snog him like your life depended on him...
Merlin, maybe she really was awful.
Gritting her teeth and ignoring the bitter cold, she hurried down the paths, avoiding uncaring couples until she found an opening in the hedges and ducked out onto the wide lawn, the snow crunching beneath her heels. She cast a warming charm around her as a precaution so she wouldn't freeze, took a great breath, and stared up at the dark sky, ignoring the prickling heat behind her eyes.
Yule Ball, 1994 - Adrian's POV
By the time Adrian got back to the table he was sharing with Warrington, Bletchley, Montague, and their dates, he could feel sweat dripping down his neck and back, and he mostly wanted to rip his dress robes off. He'd buggered off of the Hufflepuff seventh year by telling her that he needed a break. In truth, he had no idea how many girls he had danced with in an hour and a half. He could only remember one, and she was the only one that mattered. Dancing with her had been a dream come true, one he hadn't ever expected to happen. The other girls were just nameless and faceless.
But now that he was off the floor, there was a niggling doubt in the back of his mind. How could he have been so foolish as to dance with her so openly? Even if there was a huge crowd and everyone was dancing with everyone else in the crush of students, even if she had been physically, literally knocked straight into his arms, there was still the possibility that the wrong Slytherin had seen... He'd need to consider damage control...
But as he approached the table and pulled out a chair to sit down, Bletchley and Montague started catcalling and Warrington clapped him on the back.
"You know, I thought you were a bit daft when you decided to go stag, but now I get it." Warrington smirked indecently. "I should have, too."
"No shite. He's danced with half the girls out there and the night's not over yet," Bletchley echoed. "Lucky fucking bastard." He side-eyed the table next to them, full of their Slytherin dates, who were giggling and pointing at other girls' dress robes and gossiping about who looked the best and who looked the worst. It was disgusting the way those girls always did that, Adrian thought witheringly.
"Though, I thought for a moment," Montague said, passing him a shot of Firewhisky he'd poured from a flask under the table, "that you'd been elbowed in the head when I saw you dancing with that stupid Gryffindor Chaser. But afterwards I realized it was an absolutely brilliant tactical move if I ever saw one. Spot on, Pucey."
Adrian felt his chest tighten. Fuckfuckfuck. Keeping his voice light, he said, "I danced with a Gryffindor Chaser? Really?" Best to pretend as though he hadn't even paid attention to who he had danced with out on the floor.
"Yes, you great swot, you damn well know you did."
They all laughed, and Adrian gave them a thin smile at the age-old joke about his studying habits before he threw back the shot of Firewhisky. Merlin, that tasted like he needed a few more. Sounding unconcerned, he said, "I didn't even realize, to tell you the truth. It was so bloody crowded out there, I don't really remember who I was with at any moment. What was so brilliant about dancing with her in particular, then?"
Bletchley jerked his chin towards the refreshment table across the room. "You managed to piss off every male Gryffindor in our year except Towler, the great ponce." As an afterthought, he glanced towards Warrington and added cynically, "Did he even come tonight? Past his bedtime, isn't it?"
There was a fresh round of snickering.
"Yes to both. He brought that Ravenclaw prefect Viola Bradford. I saw them sneaking outside earlier." Warrington rolled his eyes. "Don't know why anyone would want to snog the bastard. Can you imagine their glasses bumping together?"
More snickering.
Adrian barely heard, though. His eyes had snapped to the refreshment table, where — to his surprise — Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins were standing off against Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson. He couldn't remotely hope to hear their conversation from across the room, with the music as loud as it was or the noise from the crowd. But he could certainly tell even from this distance that the Gryffindor blokes were miffed. Salazar help them, he thought grimly. Angelina was backing up Alicia, who looked positively livid. He wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of those two girls' fire. It would only be worse if Bell showed up and sided with her fellow Chasers. He was rather surprised she hadn't, yet.
And then, to his further surprise, Alicia started for the doors to the Entrance Hall. Jordan made to grab her arm but she snatched herself out of his grasp and gave him a look only a true idiot would have been foolish enough to test. Lee held his hands up in a gesture of truce, and Alicia was gone.
"They'll be trying to hex your arse next," Warrington said, having watched the scene play out, too. "For trying to steal their girl." He barked out a mean laugh. "As if you'd ever want that half-blood bint! But you'd still better watch it. Those blood-traitor Weasley twins can be dangerous when they team up together."
Adrian rolled his eyes. "Let them try," he answered indifferently, and he grabbed the flask from Montague for another belt while Cassius and Miles laughed at his remark.
At that moment, a slow song started up — one of the few that evening — and the Slytherin girls at the next table were suddenly at their sides as though they had been Summoned.
"This is a good one! Come on," Daphne insisted, grabbing Montague's arm. "You promised, Graham!"
"You too!" Montague's sister, Eudora, sidled up to Bletchley. "You all promised you'd dance the slow songs with us!"
"Did we?" Bletchley blanched.
"Yes, you great arse, now come on," she complained. "Although, if you don't want to, I can always take Pucey out onto the floor." Her eyes flitted hungrily towards him. "All the girls have been raving about him out there."
"Sorry," Adrian answered, watching the dancing crowd and not the girls next to him, while a distant part of his hindbrain tried to spin a fantasy in which he could slow dance with a gorgeous Gryffindor Chaser who was wearing a tight burgundy dress with thin straps over the shoulders. "I'm taking a break. Drag these blokes out, they're your dates, after all."
Jacinthe Hallifax ran her hands over Cassius's shoulders. "Come on, you heard him." She pouted cutely at her boyfriend, who sighed heavily.
Reluctantly, the three Slytherin men stood up and escorted their dates back onto the floor while Adrian watched with a blank expression. As soon as they disappeared into the slowly revolving crowd, he ducked beneath the table on the pretense of doing up a shoelace, but instead cast a Disillusionment Charm.
Effectively vanished from plain sight and damned grateful for it, he left the Great Hall and headed into the Entrance Hall. It was nearly empty, except for a couple of people returning from outside. Surely she didn't go outside? he thought worriedly. She wasn't remotely dressed for it.
Some small, sane part of his brain (somewhere far below the two shots of Firewhisky and the euphoria of having danced so provocatively with her), insisted that this was a very bad idea.
Do not go looking for her. You can't afford anyone to find out how you really feel! Too many people noticed you danced with her at all!
But she's not dressed to be outside, the not-sane part of his brain reminded him. Do you remember those straps?
Balls, of course he remembered those thin, velvet straps over her pale shoulders. How the fuck was he ever supposed to forget them?
She can find her own way back inside, she's not stupid.
But she's also a Gryffindor — stubborn as hell.
He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he stepped out into the grotto created beyond the stone steps of the castle. Her Gryffindor recklessness was rubbing off on him in the worst way possible.
The grotto was full of hidden couples, but as he was also hidden, he could move more freely. He didn't see her anywhere, and it seemed odd. He was sure she came out here, but maybe she hadn't. Maybe she'd stormed up to the library or Gryffindor tower and he'd miscalculated.
The not-remotely-sane part of his brain (the part that was humming pleasantly from the buzz of Firewhisky) murmured slyly, You could both go to the library and —
He jammed his thoughts. Nope. He was not going there. He was already being ridiculously foolhardy as it was and he respected her far more than that.
But after he reached the back of the grotto without finding her and was about to decide to return inside, he caught sight of an opening in the hedge just past a large, snow-dusted rose bush.
Adrian hesitated, but his gut was prodding him forward. There was no one around, so he removed the Disillusionment Charm and silently stepped towards the opening.
He could just see through it: the lawn, sweeping long and wide and white towards the gates. Off in the distance to the side, the icy lake glimmered under the moon and stars. The snow was pristine in this area except for...
Footprints.
High heels. A single pair.
His gut clenched and he stepped through the opening, looking left first and then —
He heard a gasp to his right and turned. Alicia was clearly startled to see him. She mouthed wordlessly, completely unprepared, and he frowned and went to her side. As he did, he passed through the charm she'd cast around herself, and a ripple of warmth engulfed him. But despite her wandwork, it was still quite chilly.
Unable to think of what to say or how to explain why he was there, and rather annoyed at himself for coming out in the first place, he hissed, "You're going to freeze out here!" and he started unbuttoning his dress robes the rest of the way.
Well, said that extremely annoying, not-sane part of his brain, you wanted to get out of the dress robes because you were hot...
The even less sane part of his brain, that part that had definitely had two shots of Firewhisky too many and was feeling very mellow and cheeky, mused, Too bad you can't both get out of your attire in the library —
He jammed his thoughts again.
"Whatareyoudoing?" Her voice was a bit more high-pitched than normal, though barely above a whisper as she glanced nervously towards the hedge.
He ripped his dress robes off and flung them over her shoulders. "I'm hot," he complained, jamming his hands in the pockets of his trousers and glaring away from her. "You can wear them for a minute so you don't get too cold."
"I cast a warming charm —"
"Any first year can do that," he scoffed.
She went silent for a moment, then whispered, "Did I upset you, somehow?"
He hesitated, before casting a Muffliato Charm behind them as a precaution, making sure to whisper the incantation so she knew what he was doing, so they could talk a bit more freely. Then he said softly, "No. Not you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
"The other Slytherins," she guessed quietly.
He gave her a grim smile. "Not the way you'd expect though, thank Merlin. They were more impressed that I managed to piss off the Weasleys and Jordan. But I still pushed the boundaries a bit far tonight, and I'm on thin ice."
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice a bit stilted. "I shouldn't have danced with you."
He swallowed, remembering how she'd laughed and smiled so brilliantly when they had been dancing together, like neither of them gave a damn about anything or anyone. And in that moment, they hadn't. It had been exhilarating; a moment he would never, ever forget. It was etched permanently into his brain. He had completely let his guard down, which was both terrifying and incredible. He couldn't do it again of course, but...
"Don't be sorry about that," he said hoarsely. "Merlin, I... I'm not sorry about that, even if it did put me on thin ice. I'll never be sorry about it."
She didn't reply right away, and he felt his stomach bottom out.
Suddenly light-headed, he asked, "Are you sorry? I mean, really?" Fuck, maybe she preferred Jordan. Which was just as well, because after all, he'd told her they couldn't be together, that he was expected to date and marry a pureblood witch because his family expected it. He had all but outright stated they could not be together. To be perfectly honest, that right there made it even worse that he had allowed himself to dance with her. He couldn't lead her on. That was unacceptable, unforgivable. God, he really was an arse, wasn't he?
"No!" She turned to face him, her eyes large and beautiful and her jewelry sparkling in the starlight and fuck, she really did look utterly kissable like that, surrounded by snow that was so white it made her dress look even darker red. That dress that literally hugged every inch of her incredible body... He pulled himself out of those thoughts only to realize she was blushing fiercely. She looked down before she murmured defiantly, "I'm not sorry. I promise." At the same time, she clutched his robes around her as though cold and lifted them just a bit so she could smell them. They probably smelled like sweat mixed with his cologne, but maybe she liked that.
He relaxed somewhat. "I wasn't trying to lead you on," he said defensively.
She laughed, quiet but almost hysterical. "I didn't think you were."
They fell silent for a moment, and then she stammered, "Did... Did you mean what you said?"
He glanced at her. He had said a lot in the past week, more than he'd ever said to her in the past five years, probably. What specific thing was she referring to?
She elaborated. "That I looked... shaggable." The last word came out as a whisper; her face turned even more pink. She looked away and her shoulders hunched as though she couldn't believe she had even asked for clarification on such a thing.
It was his turn for quiet, nearly-hysterical laughter. She was dressed in the sexiest gown he could imagine, she looked like a million galleons, and she was really asking him if he'd meant that statement?
"Are you winding me up, Spinnet?"
"What? No!" She turned to face him again, defiant once more.
He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, which startled her into silence and made her defiance evaporate into the cold around them. "I meant every fucking word," he said smoothly, his voice a bit lower than normal as he tucked a long curl behind her ear and traced his knuckles down her jaw and neck. Merlin, those curls. He thought her long straight hair was stunning, but swirling, bouncy curls? Bloody hell. He inhaled deeply, catching the scent of her perfume, and sighed. "But you know that's not going to happen."
She laughed again and leaned into him, reaching up to grip the back of his neck. All of his blood rushed south and he felt his face burn.
"Of course it's not," she agreed, both playful and lofty, meeting his eyes. "We hardly even know each other."
"You weren't offended? I thought...afterwards...maybe I was too forward, saying that." He stumbled over the words, which was very unlike him, but being this close to her...their foreheads touching...her hand on his neck...damn, but his tongue seemed tied in knots.
She smiled sincerely. "No. I wasn't offended."
"I mean, just last week I heard you tell Jordan you'd bloody his nose if he tried to kiss you."
"Well, of course I would," she said, shrugging one shoulder as she stepped back out of his grasp and slid his dress robes off. "He's Lee." She made a face.
"And if I tried?" He took the robes as she handed them over, but he didn't put them back on just yet.
"Well..." She paused and blushed. "That's...entirely different. I wouldn't mind if you tried. But I know you won't." Her smile turned sad.
"Not because I don't want to," he replied, his voice resigned.
"I know. That's why I wouldn't mind."
He sighed heavily and changed the subject. "We've been out here a while. Probably shouldn't push it too much more. Back inside, then?"
She nodded. "Before Lee and George come out and find us? I'd never hear the end of it and they'd probably try to hex you."
He grinned. "Let them try."
She laughed. "I'd back you up."
"I know you would," he replied, and he pulled her in for a hug before he thought about what he was doing. "I would never want to be on the end of your wand if you were truly good and pissed."
Alicia hugged him back, clutching at his back while burying her nose against his chest. She sighed in a deep, content sort of way. "Thanks for dancing with me," she said softly.
"I should be thanking you for that. Or perhaps I should thank McClaggen, except he's a fucking arsehole and I would prefer not to talk to him at all."
She burst into giggles again. "I can't argue with that. Come on."
"Just a sec," he said, and he pulled his wand out and tapped his head with a Disillusionment Charm. It trickled down him like ice, but it was necessary. "Just a precaution," he explained.
"Understood," she answered, her voice cheerful once more.
He uncast the Muffliato spell and followed her through the hedge again, walking by her side through the grotto. The only trouble they had in getting back inside was dodging Professor Snape, who was clearly irritated at all the snogging students and taking his annoyance out on them one by one.
Just as Alicia and Adrian attempted to slide behind him, Snape turned and spat, "Spinnet! What are you doing out here?"
Innocently, she answered, "I just came out for some air, sir."
Snape scowled. "Get back inside, then, if you're done! Go on!"
Adrian sidestepped him easily, enormously grateful that he was Disillusioned. He'd never hear the end of it from Snape if he was visible. A sudden thought occurred to him; he grasped Alicia's shoulder and leaned down to her ear as they started walking again. As soon as he was sure Snape was out of earshot, he muttered, "Something's got his knickers in a twist. Bet it's because he's not getting any tonight."
She burst into giggles and reached behind her to playfully shove him before muttering, "Oh God, stop, I look like an idiot laughing by myself! And I don't even want to think about...that! That's so gross!"
They both snickered, but by that point, they had reached the front doors. Alicia stepped inside, and to no one's surprise, Jordan and Weasley were standing about the Entrance Hall, looking worried. Adrian sighed, but allowed Alicia to move away from him.
"Al!" Jordan came running forward. "Merlin, aren't you cold?"
"No," she answered in an unconcerned tone, her lips still twitching at Adrian's comment about Snape.
"I'm so sorry, Al," Jordan babbled desperately. "We didn't mean to upset you or imply anything we shouldn't have. We know you wouldn't really like a Slytherin, but we also know he's not... so bad." He elbowed the twin, who coughed and added, "Yeah, we're sorry, 'Licia."
Johnson must have given the two of them absolute hell after Alicia ran off, Adrian thought dryly. Too bad he couldn't thank her for helping his cover.
Alicia seemed impervious, though. "It's fine. Let's go back inside. I want to dance some more." She smiled at them both, grabbed their arms, and marched them back towards the Great Hall. At the doors, she glanced over her shoulder.
Adrian was still Disillusioned, but she knew where he was, and she smiled at him in a very different way, a special way, before she disappeared inside again.
Bonus Scene #1: Girl Talk
When they got back to their dorm, Alicia stripped out of her dress and changed into flannel pyjamas, while Angelina threw on an old Quidditch jersey with the name ripped off. Alicia was positive it had once belonged to either Bill or Charlie Weasley and that her teammate had found it stashed in the locker rooms their second year and swiped it for herself. Probably Bill; Charlie was short and stocky like the twins, and Angelina was tall. Charlie's robes would have just barely covered her arse, and these came down past her thighs.
As soon as they'd hung their dresses in the wardrobe, Angelina ran and jumped on her bed, bouncing once as she tucked her long legs under her and beckoned Alicia over. Alicia jumped on the bed with her knees too; they dissolved into giggles at acting like kids before becoming a bit more serious.
"So?" Angelina prodded. "How was your night?"
Alicia thought back over the whole evening, her chest tightening happily at the random, unexpected, incredibly lovely interactions with Adrian. Those far outweighed her argument with Lee and George. Considering she had been sick of hearing about the Yule Ball only a week earlier? Yes, she'd had a wonderful night.
But what she said was, "Not bad. Yours?"
Angelina shrugged one shoulder. "Not bad," she echoed, before shifting to sit cross-legged. Then, ignoring niceties, she leaned forward. "Now." A mischievous smirk curved her lips. "Spill."
"Spill what?"
"You know what." Her best friend laughed and then asked conspiratorially, "How was it? Dancing with such a fit man?"
"Ang, you know I don't think George is fit, but if you'd wanted to go with him, you should have asked him yourself," Alicia teased.
Angelina gaped for a split second before she screeched and shoved Alicia playfully. "That's not what I meant and you know it!" she cried. And when Alicia just laughed and toppled on her side, pretending as though the punch had knocked her flat, Angelina shook her shoulder and laughed too. "Come on!" she begged. "Tell me about Pucey!"
Alicia let Angie pull her back up into a sitting position. With a twitching smile, she said, "It was... I mean, I know he danced with a lot of girls because he went stag, but..." She hesitated, then said breathlessly, "It was fantastic, really. Godric, Ang, he can dance!"
Angelina squealed again and Alicia laughed and grabbed her hands. "He does it so... so... effortlessly!" Then, she turned bright red and sputtered, "Merlin's pants, don't tell the boys!"
"I would never! They can be dicks, sometimes, the whole lot of them. Acting like you dancing with him was some big, horrible deal...! Fuck, but Pucey is so fit. I can't believe he actually —"
But at that very moment, there was a knock on the door, and both girls turned and called out, "Come in!" together.
Katie, Hermione, and Ginny entered; Hermione's hair was out of its bun, but still fairly straight, and all were in their pyjamas.
"Mind if we join you?" Hermione asked politely. "I'm trying to avoid Lavender and Parvati. They keep asking me to describe, in detail, exactly how Victor kisses..." She made a face.
Angelina and Alicia both snickered.
Katie, of course, hadn't bothered with polite inquiries. She had already jumped on the bed and tackled Alicia in a hug before she shifted back to encourage the two younger girls to come over. "Hermione's pissed at Ron," Katie stated, and Hermione blushed and cried, "Katie!"
"You know we don't mind if you join us! Come on, seriously!" Angelina moved over to make room for Ginny, who climbed up beside her. Hermione closed the door before she came around the other side of the bed and sat between Angelina and Alicia, so they all formed a bit of a circle. Angelina tossed her hair back and said, "Okay. Spill, Hermione. What the hell did Ron do? Do we need to jinx him tomorrow morning? Because we will, you know we will. And we'll enjoy it." Her eyes flashed.
Hermione snorted derisively. "It's okay. I already yelled at him. He's just jealous because Victor asked me to the dance before he did. Apparently, it only just recently occurred to Ron that I might actually be a girl. I guess he thought I was just another one of his mates for the past three years..." She rolled her eyes.
Angelina looked livid. "Typical. Boys can be such absolute wankers."
At the same time, Ginny said scathingly, "Better get used to it, Hermione. Ron can be a real moron most of the time."
They all laughed, before Katie asked eagerly, "So? What was Victor like, Hermione? You have to tell us! Go on! Please?"
Angelina, Alicia, and Ginny all instantly encouraged her to share, and Hermione blushed horribly.
"He's...very polite," she stammered. "And sweet. And...um..." She wrung her hands together. "...romantic."
"Did he kiss you goodnight?" Alicia asked eagerly.
Hermione's face turned even brighter pink. "Y-yes. But please, don't say anything to anyone else! Please! I don't want Ron or Harry to know!"
All of the girls squealed again before she'd even finished speaking and Angelina said bracingly, "Anything said in this room stays in this room." Then she hugged Hermione and added, "I'm so happy for you. You deserve Victor. And Ron can sod the fuck off. He's just mad because he didn't get any, the big dolt."
They all laughed again, and Katie looked at Ginny. "So? How was Neville?"
"We just went as friends," Ginny assured her, shifting to sit more comfortably. "Neville's always been really nice to me. I mean, he did step all over my feet while we were dancing but..." She shrugged. "I had a good time all the same. At least I got to go! I didn't think I would get to go at first."
"Neville's a good guy," Alicia agreed. "He's got his heart in the right place, even if he can't dance. And he's not nearly as daft as Ron and Harry."
They nodded in agreement, and then Ginny asked Katie, "How was Brad?"
"Oh, Brad's a great dancer." Katie smiled a bit wistfully. "We share Transfiguration and we know each other from the pitch, of course. So it was nice to go with someone I had a bit in common with. We had a good time."
"But," Angelina interrupted, "he's not the one she really wanted to take. But Puddlemere United wouldn't let a certain reserve Keeper off for the night. He's a daft idiot too, to be honest."
They all giggled and Katie blushed as pink as Hermione. "Oliver wouldn't want to go with me anyways, you know he wouldn't."
Alicia and Angelina exchanged exasperated looks. Katie was oblivious and so was Oliver, but hopefully things would change at some point.
"So, what about you?" Ginny nudged Angelina with her shoulder. "Enjoy going with the particularly insane twin of the set? I wasn't sure if you were also insane or just very, very brave."
Angelina grinned. "Bit of both, probably. Besides, Fred and I are just friends. He did kiss me goodnight, but it wasn't anything special. Just felt like a boring kiss, if you know what I mean."
Ginny looked a bit downcast and worried her lower lip. "No, not really."
"Well, you will one day." Angelina shook her shoulder encouragingly. "Some boys, when you kiss them, you feel everything...fireworks, sparks, all of it. And some boys you kiss and you feel... nothing." She shrugged. "Just how it is. Not that he and I aren't still friends, but it won't become anything else. I'll have to let him down easy, though."
Hermione turned to Alicia and said, "Okay, your turn. You had two dates!"
Alicia smiled. "Lee and George are just mates, Hermione. I'm not interested in either of them that way. We went as friends, just like Ginny and Neville."
"Besides," Katie interjected slyly, "she's much more interested in a certain Slytherin reserve Chaser..."
Alicia stared in horror at Katie as her stomach bottomed out. "...what?" she asked faintly — barely registering that Hermione and Ginny also said "What?!" at the same time.
Katie looked positively delighted. "Come on, do you really think no one noticed you dancing with one of the fittest guys in the entire school? Merlin, that boy can dance!"
"To be fair," Angelina interrupted, mostly to save Alicia, "he danced with half the girls out there tonight. He went stag, which was a smart move on his part. He can have his pick of any girl he wants now, as if he didn't before."
"Who was it?" Hermione asked. For a girl who was so brilliant, it was obvious that her attention had been hyper-focused on a certain Durmstrang student and famous International Quidditch player all night.
"Adrian Dances-Like-A-God Pucey," Katie informed her, as though spilling the best gossip of the night.
Hermione's eyes went wide. "Oh!" She looked at Alicia and Angelina. "He's the really smart one in your year, isn't he? He's top in nearly all of his classes —! Didn't he get nine owls? Or was it ten?"
"Of course that's what she remembers." Angelina laughed.
"He's also really fit," Katie stage-whispered to Hermione around Alicia. She then leaned on Alicia's shoulder and added, "So? Tell us! How did it even happen?"
Alicia tried to brush it off. "You heard Angie. He went stag; he danced with Merlin only knows how many girls tonight —"
"True," Katie acknowledged. "But..." She hesitated, and when all of the other girls looked at her, and Angelina and Ginny each arched an eyebrow, she plunged on apologetically but seriously, "When you started dancing with him, I could see you both and I was trying to watch you because I knew he was a Slytherin. And I saw the way he looked at you, 'Licia. Like he wanted to drag you out of the room, take you back to his bed, and shag you absolutely ragged —"
"What? No! No, he definitely wasn't looking at me like that —" Alicia stuttered, panicking slightly. God help her, Katie hadn't heard what Pucey had said, had she?! Had anyone else noticed the way he'd looked at her?!
Katie barreled on. "— he didn't look at any other girl that way! Brad and I danced by him several times! I know he was dancing with Bess Oakfield at one point but he didn't look at her the same way he looked at you! He didn't look at Priscilla Weaver or Christina Delmont that way, either!"
It took all Alicia had not to hyperventilate. Crossly, she said, "Katie! Did you even pay attention to Brad, or did you just watch Pucey all night?"
Angelina, Ginny, and Hermione — who had all been watching this conversation with slightly open mouths — laughed at that, and Katie rolled her eyes. "Of course I paid Brad attention! But it was hard not to notice Pucey. So? Are you going to tell us why he was looking at you like he wanted to drag you out of the Great Hall and into a broom closet to get your dress off?"
"It wasn't like that!" Alicia lied hastily. "It was because of McClaggen, the great arse! I was trying to get through the crowd to get something to drink and McClaggen backed up into me; he knocked me off balance and Pucey just happened to catch me. That's all! I only danced with him to thank him for saving me. I mean, otherwise, half the room would have seen my knickers, and that would have been horribly embarrassing." She flushed.
Katie shook her head. "Oh, come on. That wasn't an accident, it was Fate, Alicia. That boy wanted you."
"It was not Fate," Alicia protested. "It was McClaggen being an arse. And Pucey doesn't want me."
"I agree with you, Alicia," Ginny said swiftly. "Fate pairing you with a Slytherin? Ugh."
"He's a good sort," Angelina assured the youngest girl. "Not at all like the others, most of the time. You do get a good one every once in a while in that house. Pucey's a good one."
Ginny frowned. "But isn't it a bit hard for Slytherins and Gryffindors to date?"
Angelina shrugged. "It's not easy, no. The animosity between the two houses makes it hard."
"Pucey doesn't want to date me," Alicia insisted emphatically. "So it's a moot point, believe me. It was just one dance. That's all."
Katie looked as though she didn't believe her, but before she could argue, the door opened suddenly and McGonagall looked in, her mouth the thinnest of lines and her eyes narrowed angrily. "Girls, really! Enough! Go to bed, all of you! It's almost two in the morning! Miss Granger, Miss Spinnet, I'm surprised at the two of you, being prefects! Miss Weasley! Get back to your dorm! You too, Miss Bell!"
Bonus Scene #2: Fantasies (NSFW, rated M)
Adrian lay on his back, staring up at the dark canopy of his bed. One thing he was particularly good at was casting wards and charms around his bed every night: to keep his dorm mates out, to block all surrounding sound, and to block any sound he might make. Necessary precautions when one lived with a bunch of arsehole, prejudice blokes, after all...and when one was a bloke, too.
It wasn't even his first wank of the night. It was his second. The first had been in an extremely hot shower. Bloody well scalding; his shoulders, back, and chest were still slightly pink and raw.
But the heat had done nothing to turn off his brain.
That dress. That dark red velvet dress on her incredible figure.
Fucking hell, but this night was going to fuel his fantasies for months. The way she'd curled her hair. How amazing she'd looked overall. Never mind the way she'd danced with him, her body pressing up against his, moving with him, her arms sexily around his neck, her breasts pressed into his chest. Or the way the velvet felt against his sweaty palms as he ran his hands over her waist and hips. The smoothness of her pale shoulders, the flush and sheen across her cleavage. The way she'd let him put his forehead to hers outside in the snow. Her hand in his hair on his neck. How close he'd been to kissing her. The herculean effort it had taken not to. It was all too much.
It didn't matter how many times he told himself it wasn't fair to fantasize about her. It didn't matter that he told himself the relationship he wanted was impossible and he should let her go because clinging to his fantasies would make dating a sensible, pureblood witch all the more harder. He wouldn't be able to respect another woman properly if he was pining for her.
But the not-sane part of his mind just seemed to fantasize regardless of what the sane, logical part tried to tell him.
He finally found the image he wanted: holding her by the hands in that one fraction of eternity when they had been dancing: the sultry smile on her face, the laughter in her eyes, her flushed complexion, their arms fully extended for the briefest of seconds so he could see all the way down her very fuckable, sexy body before he yanked her back against him on the dance floor. The way her palms felt slick against his before he pulled her in and grabbed her around the torso.
He groaned, one arm over his eyes and the other curled around his aching cock. Merlin, he was screwed.
While he was in the shower, he'd imagined doing her in the library on a study table. But now he put her on his bed. He imagined his hands smoothing down that dress to her hips, bunching the velvet fabric up her legs and bending to kiss the inside of her thigh. She'd squirm and jerk a bit, but he'd hold her hips down and kiss all the way up close to her center, before shifting and pushing her dress over her waist. Was she wearing knickers? Yes, he'd just felt them through the dress when his hands had dipped a bit low on her hips - they would be thin, lacy, black knickers to match her black high heels, he felt sure.
He'd kiss her stomach and dip his tongue in her navel. She'd gasp and flinch; hopefully she'd clench her fingers in his hair, tugging deliciously to try and make him move faster up her body. He'd drag his lips up her stomach, pushing the dress up to her breasts, before sliding up her torso, one knee between her legs. She'd help him shimmy the dress over her head, and her curls would look completely mused after he tossed the dress somewhere to the side.
She wasn't wearing a bra though, and he would cup her breasts and rub her nipples with his thumbs before kissing her on the mouth. He'd kiss those full lips of hers slowly and thoroughly, dipping his tongue briefly between them. She'd rake her hands down his shoulders; he'd feel her nails digging into his muscles on his back and he would deepen the kiss as he sank against her, feeling her breasts pressing into his chest. She'd moan and arch into him. He'd touch her everywhere, memorize her body: the way her waist dipped and the way her hips curved. He'd suck and scrape his teeth on her nipples until she was begging for more. He'd rip those lace panties off and pull one of her legs behind his waist. He'd fit right up against her. She'd say his name — not his surname, but his given name, and she'd breathe it like a prayer.
Adrian, please...!
He'd watch her glazed eyes as he thrust into her. Her head would tilt back and she'd gasp beautifully at the feel of him; he'd kiss her throat and start pistoning hard within her tight, wet heat.
That was all it took. He came hard, his shout muffled by turning his face into the inside of his upper arm and completely unheard behind the barrier of spells around his bed. He came so hard he saw stars burst behind his tightly scrunched eyes.
Merlin, he wanted her so badly. Unbidden, a couple of tears slipped out.
He lied to himself. They were just from the intensity of the orgasm. It had been so intense. Damn.
That was all they could be, after all. He was not crying.
Bonus Scene #3: June 1995 (Six Months Later...)
"No, wait!"
Salsby stopped and turned, his brow furrowed slightly. "Yes, young master? Did Salsby forget something?"
Adrian had already bolted from his bookshelf and was stumbling across his bedroom ungracefully. He slid on the edge of the Axminster and nearly crashed into his antique desk to get to the door. Hell, he'd barely managed to right himself before he snatched the forest green dress robes away from Salsby and crushed them protectively to his chest.
He liked to imagine that they still sort of smelled like her, after all — floral and soft and lilting. Truthfully, they didn't, but still.
"Young master," the older elf croaked. "Your dress robes should be cleaned properly, they should! Salsby doesn't trust the house elves at Hogwarts to clean things right, he doesn't!"
"They didn't clean them at all at Hogwarts," Adrian retorted, straightening up and shaking the robes out to fold them neatly.
Salsby's mouth fell open. "What? What is those elves thinking?" he raged. "Unacceptable! It is a house elf's sworn duty —!"
"I didn't want them to clean my dress robes!" Adrian cried, staring at the elf. "And I don't want you to clean them, either!"
Salsby looked gobsmacked. "Young master? Is you not feeling well? Your dress robes must be cleaned, Mistress has an important dinner party this Saturday —"
"I'll buy new ones, okay? Just... you can't touch these! No one can touch these but me! Is that understood?" He crouched so he was eye-level with the elf. "And for the love of Merlin — do not tell anyone, especially my mother, father, or anyone else!"
Salsby looked completely baffled. "Yes, young master. Salsby will not clean or touch young master's dress robes, and he won't speak of this to anyone."
Adrian exhaled and felt his shoulders sag in relief. "Thank you. Do you need me to pick anything up when I go to Diagon Alley?"
"No, young master. Salsby has all he needs here." He paused at the door. "Mistress likes young master in green robes, because they bring out the color of his eyes best." With that, he left the room.