I'll Put A Spell On You

A/N: So I think I may have vaguely sort of lied. I know I had said this would be the last chapter, but I'm thinking that I might do an Epilogue after this chapter. Or at least that's what my beta Gemma suggested to prevent me getting lynched from leaving the ending open ended. I figure I'll leave it to you, dear reader. So, who wants an Epilogue?

And let's not forget my wonderful betas: Kat & Gemma.

Also many thanks to all the wonderful people who have read and review.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling

"Strange and Beautiful (I'll Put A Spell On You") belongs to Aqualung

And while they aren't mentioned directly, the wonderful band DeVotchKa who helped inspire me while writing this section.

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The Great Hall was all aglow with the floating jack o’ lanterns while artistic spider webs decorated the four corners before running down the walls in elaborate patterns. Tables had alternating black and orange tablecloths, the centerpieces being preserved colored leaves and gourds.

On the raised dais where the High Table normally stood was a live band. Hermione thought the band, in and of itself, contributed to the dark atmosphere of the Great Hall. The quintet played a mixture of music that while she couldn’t put her finger on what it was, it had a definite Old World Western European feel.

The gypsy costumes certainly help, Hermione thought with a smile as the dark haired violinist winked at her. Feeling her cheeks heat, she turned to survey the scene from against the wall, as she nursed a glass of punch. Dumbledore had insisted that everyone must dress up, much to the chagrin of some of the staff. Hermione chuckled as she spied McGonagall dressed in a medium shade of charcoal-grey robes, a pair of cat ears peeking through her hair.

Everyone is having such a wonderful time, she thought with a smile as she watched several of the students dance around the room in various costumes. Well, not quite everyone, she corrected herself as she glanced at a dour-faced Filch and Madame Pince. Though, judging by the way Madame Pince kept swaying to the music before catching herself, maybe she was enjoying herself just a little. Hermione smiled as she caught Filch giving Madame Pince a look out of the corner of his eyes.

“Don’t they make a cute couple,” Madame Hooch cracked, sidling up to Hermione. She had come predictably dressed as a Muggle referee.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think it’s sort of sweet,” Hermione answered.

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How much longer do I have to endure this bloody ball, Severus groused to himself while he watched from the punch bowl as Hooch tried to draw Hermione into a conversation. He hated these things. He would much rather be prowling the corridors and deducting points than having to stand here listening to music that he hated.

Bloody Albus and his sodding balls. Severus glanced over at Hermione yet again. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the insufferable know-it-all all evening. His mind kept going back to the last time she had been in his office, confessing her love for him.

'I think I love you,' she said. Love. Bollocks. The mask he was wearing slipped again, and he cursed under his breath. Damn Albus to hell and back. The infuriating man had taken it into his head that he should supply Severus’ costume for the evening. Thankfully it was almost identical to what he normally wore, except for the wolf mask Albus had insisted he wear with it. He had flat-out refused to wear the accompanying tail. Circe only knows what Albus is trying to get at with this ridiculous outfit.

His attitude turned melancholy as he heard the lilting strain of piano coming from the raised dais where the band was stationed.

I've been watching your world from afar,

I'll see.

The crooning male voice seemed to strike at something in Severus. He softly smiled as he watched Hermione laugh at something Hooch had said.

To me, you're strange and you're beautiful,

You turn every head but you don't see me.

She really does look beautiful tonight, he thought, taking in the ruby-coloured dress robes that made her skin seem like porcelain. She had even somehow tamed her wild mane of curls into a single plait with wispy tendrils. The only thing about her outfit that confused him was the silly straw basket she had with her.

I'll put a spell on you,

And you'll realise that you love me.

“You know, Severus, you’ll never get her by simply standing on the sidelines.” Severus sighed as he recognized the quiet voice of Albus.

“Ever the bloody matchmaker.” Albus chuckled as he adjusted the grey bowler perched on his head. The grey pinstripe business suit looked so very out-of-place on the colorful old wizard.

“Not this time, no. I believe Mr. and Mr. Weasley are the culprits.”

“If they’ve been using that love potion again--”

“--On the contrary,” Albus interrupted. “I do believe all Mr. and Mr. Weasley did was to bring things to a head.”

“I don’t know what you’re prattling on about, old man,” Severus said, crossing his arms and glancing over where Filch and Madam Pince stood. “And why do those two get out of having to wear costumes?”

“They are wearing costumes, Severus.”

“Then just what, pray tell, are they?” he asked with a sneer.

“Why, I would think that’s obvious, my dear boy. They’re Death Eaters…” Dumbledore paused for a beat before continuing. “They look just like everyone else.” Severus sputtered slightly. Smiling over his glasses, Dumbledore continued. “And if you want to have a dance with her before this song is over, I’d go and ask her now.” And with that he left to go back to Minerva’s side before asking her to dance.

Sometimes, the last thing you want comes in first,

Sometimes...

Looking up to pray to whatever gods might still listen to him, Severus straightened his shoulders before crossing the room to Hermione. As he walked up, Hooch scuttled away, leaving him and Hermione alone. Clearing his throat, he looked into the wary chocolate eyes in front of him.

“Miss Granger, would you do me the pleasure of having this dance?” Steeling himself for rejection, he was stunned by her smile.

“I’d love to have this dance with you, Professor Snape.” As they stepped onto the dance floor, the couple fell into step and seemed to almost float on air.

I'll put a spell on you,

And you'll realize that you love me, yeah...

As the last refrains of the song began to die away, Severus and Hermione slowed to just moving in time to the music, unaware of the pair who were watching them.

“I told you, Minerva, that they would make a good couple. I do believe you owe me twenty sickles.” Professor McGonagall’s lips twitched.

“Really, Albus, dancing around a room hardly qualifies as becoming a couple.”

“My dear, you know Severus as well as I do. Dancing in front of a room full of people is as good as him declaring it.”

“Still, he wouldn’t have if you hadn’t given him a push,” she said sulkily.

Dumbledore smiled as he saw Severus and Hermione out of the corner of his eye make their way to leave the Great Hall.

“Well, Minerva, that proof enough for you?” nodding at the pair as they exited the room.

“I suppose,” she huffed. “But that boy better treat her right, or I will hex him to oblivion.”

“He will, my dear, he will.”