27| A DANCE GONE WRONG
The entirety of the Slytherin population seemed to have gained a curious rapture ever since Draco and Gemini 'made up'. Unsurprisingly, the primary cause of this was the lack of entertainment they had suffered from in Gemini's social absence. They were always expectant whenever she was around — to see something out of the ordinary happen. Be it the suits of armour charging across the halls on Hippogriffs, an enchanted speaking mirror randomly appearing in the common room (which took its duty of judging people so seriously it reduced several unsuspecting students to tears), or Snape's cauldron spontaneously bursting into flames upon the addition of some mistletoe berries: she never failed to get a laugh out of them.
Moreover, the aspect of the approaching ball created far too good an opportunity for the boys to pass up. Being around Draco made her more approachable to the Slytherins since she barely talked to anyone when he and the others weren't around. Ultimately, it had been Draco who had convinced her to socialise with people during their first year, and though it was through a twisted way that involved a lot of pestering and teasing, it had worked.
Blaise found himself unbothered with any of this; he always made sure his bridges with Gemini weren't completely burnt. He would tease the flame, toast the edges, toe that line between being the best and the worst if only to see her crack in the face of his unpredictability. But he knew when to pull the flame away, when to stop toying. He could not afford to lose whatever they had until he had puzzled her out. There was something... off about her — he could sense it.
On the surface, she seemed so unlike what people pictured a Slytherin to be like, but Blaise knew better. People only looked at that surface, that reflection she allowed them to see — they didn't reach deep into her oceanic being, they didn't dive. Blaise wanted to. He wanted to delve into her secrets, unveil them, leave them naked and vulnerable before his eyes. He wanted to know.
But she wouldn't let him.
To be fair, they were both stubborn. One wouldn't relent and the other wouldn't leave well enough alone.
Blaise took every opportunity he could get to know her more. On occasion, impatience ate him up from the inside, but he never let anyone see that. To the world, he was the embodiment of the phrase 'calm and collected'. He wanted to maintain that image.
It wasn't hard for him to convince anyone to think what he wanted them to think of him. But Gemini and her twice-damned insights always knew. He could sense it in the way she looked at him. Her eyes never mirrored that desire he saw on the faces of several others. He thought it was funny how unrequited feelings worked. He didn't want the girls who were after him, and the one he was after didn't want him.
Hence, it was unsurprising that he had made it his ambition to charm his way into her heart. Of course, that didn't hold him back from messing around a little with others. He wasn't going to dedicate himself to anyone. That would be dangerous.
Yet, as he draped himself on an armchair across her and watched her staunchly read a mermish dictionary, he feared that he was already a little devoted to her. His dark irises stared at her with an intensity that could burn if it were substantial. She was resplendent. She had the kind of beauty that drove men to their knees. For someone so young, it was a dangerous attribute to have.
He saw her gently pull her lower lip between her teeth, tilting her head in confusion as she came across something in the book, and felt an insatiable urge to kiss her. His concentration was broken when she whipped her head up to her left. Adrian Pucey stood not two feet away with a cocky grin on his hatchet-like face. Blaise felt his mouth curve into a sneer.
Two slender arms slipped around his neck and rested loosely on his shoulders. "Is this a bad time to interrupt?"
"Greengrass," he sighed, allowing his eyelids to slip close as he sank into her embrace.
"You're smitten," spoke Daphne, and he could practically hear the infuriating smirk in her voice.
A strand of her flaxen hair fell on his shoulder as she bent down and rested her chin on his head. He curled it around his finger absently. "Do you know what they're talking about?"
"I'll corner her later,"
It was his turn to smirk. "I owe you."
"A kiss would do," she teased.
Blaise knew she meant it playfully, but turned around halfway and planted a kiss on her cheek nonetheless. She looked speechless for a second, her painted mouth parted, before she abruptly started laughing. He could spot a faint flush in her cheeks.
"I'm surprised you're here without Pansy," he commented.
"Oh, I'm not. She's right over there by the fire with Draco. Attempting to flirt, per usual. The second-hand embarrassment got too much so I decided to find a flirting partner for myself."
"And would that be me?"
She matched his coy look with a guileful smile, revealing a hint of her pearly teeth. "Of course not." she waved her hand dismissively, "It's that enchanting creature over there,"
Blaise followed the path of her forest-green eyes to Gemini.
"Get away from my girl, Pucey!" she called.
Gemini looked at her and broke into a grin.
"He looks very punchable," Blaise murmured to Daphne, his thoughts split between grabbing Gemini and snogging the hell out of her or beating Pucey to a pulp for the way he was looking at her.
Daphne shook her head at him and pulled away, sashaying her way over to Gemini. He heard her rudely ask Pucey to go do something to himself that made a first-year choke on air before she flopped down on the couch beside the pretty, raven-haired girl.
Blaise decided he was feeling weary at the lack of company, especially when he still sensed his head straining at the effort to keep himself from jinxing every single person in the common room who was eyeing Gemini, and so decided to join them on the other side of the centre table in three easy strides.
Both girls turned to face him, the slender, blonde one wrapping her arms around the other's waist from behind.
"You look a little tense," commented Gemini, leaning into Daphne.
Daphne raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at him, not even attempting to hide her little expression of smug delight.
"What did Pucey say to you?" he asked calmly.
"He wanted me to go to the ball with him," Gemini answered nonchalantly, "Daphne drove him out before he could empty his egotistical personality on poor, old me."
"It's a shame, you know," Daphne added, "he's the only person on the Quidditch team who plays fair and nice, you'd think he'd have a decent personality off the pitch as well..."
"Like Higgs," Gemini recollected.
Blaise scoffed and propped one of his legs on the other. "The only good thing about Terence Higgs was his performance on the pitch. But I've caught wind that he's dumped that bit of good in him as well to become a journalist these days — writes for the Witch Weekly. Even received an award or two. Of course, none of this changes the fact that he believed in that gibberish fantasy of purebloods and muggle-borns living together —"
Gemini pursed her lips. "I liked him."
Blaise clenched his jaw. "Don't be naive, Gemini —"
"Excuse me?"
Daphne, sensing the familiar turn the conversation was taking, retracted her arms and cleared her throat. "It's nearly evening, I'll go ask Pansy if we should commence the practice now."
Having spread a verbal invitation to all the Slytherins for the practice the previous day itself made it easier for them to clear the common room when Pansy agreed to begin. Most of the older students had backed out since they either had work to do or knew how to dance. The younger ones on the other hand had been practically bursting with excitement but were bummed out when they were told that it was pointless to attend if they didn't at least have a partner who met the eligibility criteria for the ball.
As a consequence, the crowd that gathered in the common room consisted of a majority of fourth to sixth-year students and a handful of some very out-of-place second and third-years.
Blaise and Gemini stayed gloomily seated in the same spot until Pansy asked Blaise to "get his carcass on the floor".
A slightly rusty gramophone was brought out by anonymous hands and placed on a table in a corner of the room upon Pansy's directions. The sixth years worked on moving the furniture to create a large space in the middle of the room, while the fifth years assessed the crowd and made sure that the room only hosted those students who would be going to the ball, lest the room get unnecessarily cramped.
In nearly fifteen minutes, the common room was ready. It looked rather bleak without the furniture that brought so much character to it. The green lanterns shed their light on the elaborate patterns and silky braids of the soft carpet that covered the entire stone floor. Impressed murmurs about the efficiency and teamwork were heard from the wall where the portraits of some renowned Slytherins hung.
Pansy took a step back from the gramophone and sighed. She then moved to the spot beneath the chandelier, which was in the exact middle of the room, and clapped her hands twice to gain everyone's attention. She offered them a polite greeting before she began a brief explanation of why they were there, and what precisely they were going to do, to clear any doubts.
"We know the Yule Ball is an opportunity for us to represent our house and prove that we are better than the rest," she said crisply, "and that begins, first and foremost, with what we provide as our first impression — which is physical. We are gathered here because we have all come to a mutual agreement that we need each other's help and experience to make every individual the best version of themselves for this event. The callow, young ones require this most of all as they too will be just as much a depiction of our house as the others.
"Apart from the fundamental purpose of this session, there is also a sideline intention of helping out each other by distributing our knowledge about such events and the appropriate etiquette and dressing sense to be followed, so we are all on the same page. Now, before we begin, Daphne will pass out some general instructions that are to be followed during this practice..."
Daphne had joined Pansy by the time she finished her sentence and gave a polite nod to the prefects, who returned the greeting. She sucked in a breath, "I believe you have all by now noticed that not all of us will be able to waltz in this room at the same time without paying Madam Pomfrey a visit,"
Light chuckles met her words.
"So we will be dancing in turns. Each time a song ends, the ones seated will replace the ones dancing. Since dancing requires a lot of space, the room can house approximately six to seven pairs of people at a time. I hope you all have partners; if not, you have time to pick now. One last thing — this is more of a suggestion than anything, but I think it will be better to have a pair of good dancers dance first to give the general idea of ballroom dancing — like an instructor of sorts so that we don't go haywire. Any volunteers?"
People looked at each other almost hesitantly. No one felt like messing up in front of such a large (and likely critical) crowd.
Blaise lazily responded, "I volunteer."
Daphne smiled wide. "That's great!"
"If Gemini dances with me," he added, like an ultimatum.
"What?" Gemini blinked beside him, but her voice was almost drowned out by the whistles and cheering.
"This'll go well," Daphne mumbled sarcastically, but Pansy caught it and began pestering her to reveal the drama.
Before she could answer her questions, however, Blaise grabbed Gemini's hand and pulled her to her feet. She was looking at him like she wanted to stab him over and over and drown his body in the lake.
"You look a little tense, Delmar," he teased her.
"Hilarious." she stated flatly.
"I hope you weren't bluffing about knowing how to dance because that would be quite embarrassing," the corner of his mouth tugged up devilishly as he dragged her to the centre of the room while Pansy and Daphne moved away, whispering and giggling.
Gemini very closely stopped herself from crushing his foot with hers. She wasn't going to create a scene. Schooling her expression into a hard and indifferent one, she shifted her hand in his upheld one, briefly offended to find it larger than her own. She then reluctantly placed her other hand on his shoulder. Next, his hand came to rest on her waist, and he swiftly pulled her close enough that it would be considered publicly polite. But the wicked gleam in his eyes didn't settle well with Gemini. He wasn't about to let her off so easily.
Someone turned on the music.
A slow, enchanting orchestra started playing. Gemini's feet moved of their own accord, flawlessly in sync with Blaise's. Their footsteps were silent, their movements light and graceful. It was like they were professional dancers, trained to perfection.
Everyone gawked at the pair of them.
They never missed a beat, never looked anywhere but at each other, and flowed as beautifully as the tune did.
Blaise had donned his blank expression now. He simply stared into her stormy grey eyes, his body moving of its own accord.
She returned his gaze levelly. She could feel the warmth of his shoulder beneath her cold hand. They had both forgone their robes. The only thing between his hand and her waist was the thin material of her white shirt. He purposefully stroked her side lightly with his thumb, testing the waters. Trying to irk her. The smell of his expensive cologne encompassed her.
Her eyes shifted from his when she heard feet shuffling and joining them. In less than a minute, the place seemed a lot more crowded. They weren't free to glide across the room now, so they expertly weaved through the constantly moving bodies, not faltering once. The music got a little quicker, and they picked up their pace as they spun.
People were no longer looking at them, either busy practising their moves or chatting on the seats.
Blaise took his hand off her waist, twirled her once, and before she could blink, pulled her flush against his body. If she was surprised, he thought, she hid it painfully well. It frustrated him that she wouldn't even breathe for the sake of giving him a reaction. He clutched her as close as he could, his arm around her waist almost aching for her to make a move.
Gemini didn't know what to do with him.
He was so close to her that she could even hear the soft pattern of his breathing over the loud music. She wasn't daft. She couldn't pretend that he wasn't attractive, because he was damn well the most gorgeous boy she'd ever seen. With his perfectly sculpted jaw, his smooth, dark skin, and his compelling eyes, he seemed almost godly among the mundane faces that surrounded them.
But then there was this: his carefree overstepping. His idea of a joke: sometimes unsavoury, sometimes downright unkind. His hand on her: firm but forbearing. She looked past him with a disinterested, empty gaze, allowing her mind to go as blank as her expression. Only to be jolted back to reality a moment later when she felt some movement on her waist and realised Blaise's hand had slid down just a little.
She stiffened.
His hand slipped lower, and she caught his bicep in a vice-like grip to stop him. "Blaise," she breathed, looking up at him with surprise and warning registering in her eyes.
His lips were tilted up cruelly.
"Yes?" he answered in a swoon-worthy voice.
He was taunting her.
"Your hand," she hissed, eyes narrowing.
"What about it?" he asked and started drumming his fingers softly on her hip.
"Blaise," she warned him again, but this time he listened.
He slowly dragged his arm up, feeling the curve of her waist before he stopped at her lower back. She shifted uncomfortably, eyes fleeting around to investigate whether anyone had been watching them. The music was dwindling, she would be able to leave in a few minutes. She bit the inside of her cheek, waiting, waiting...
Any moment now.
The orchestra struck their last chord, and Daphne, who had been dancing with Theodore, stilled and started asking people to clear off and make space for the others. Gemini pulled out of Blaise's grasp as quickly as she could without making it seem obvious how keen she was to leave and turned on her heel.
He caught her wrist and tugged on it lightly. "Where are you going?"
His voice sounded... tense.
"The song's over," was all she told him, snatching her wrist and beginning to leave the common room with hurried strides and a half-dazed mind.
He called her name quietly and started following her when she didn't respond. It didn't help that she was almost as tall as him; her long legs carried her far and quick. Caught in the new crowd of dancers, he frustratedly shoved them aside, earning glares and a lot of unwanted attention. She had already escaped into the corridor that led out. He could hear Daphne calling out to him but ignored her.
When he reached the opening of the corridor, he found her at the other end, stepping out as the stone door hidden in the wall opened for her. Determined to catch her for a purpose he didn't yet know, he sprinted down the narrow passage, her name leaving his throat. He saw her briefly look back at him through the tapering gap that was left as the wall closed. By the time he reached it, the exit had already sealed itself. He muttered the password and was out before it even reopened fully.
He looked around at the emptiness that surrounded him, disturbed only by the scuffling of Millicent Bulstrode's cat's padded paws as it stood in the broad passage before him. He paced ahead to look for Gemini when he didn't catch the echo of any footsteps. The search only served to disappoint him.
He closed his eyes and stuck his tongue in his cheek with a miffed sigh. She was gone.