Chapter 21

Chapter 21

The Great Hall had been decorated in a fall motif. There were autumn leaves and pumpkins, and a hologram of an autumn night sky (complete with a harvest moon) temporarily displaced the usual ceiling charms. It seemed an odd choice to Harry, as this was supposed to be a celebration of Quidditch, not of the harvest season, which was still a few weeks away.

He looked around the room, trying to decide who to talk to. At past celebrations, of course, he would have spent the evening with Ron and Hermione, most likely, since this event had been announced too late for anyone to find dates. If history were any guide, they quite likely might have spent a crazy evening getting themselves into and out of trouble.

However, Ron wasn't here tonight, and Hermione was with Snape – Harry still couldn't believe she had chosen Snape, of all people, to fall for – so Harry was at loose ends. Oh, he could have stayed with Hermione and Snape, of course, but he wasn't sure that he and Snape wouldn't start sniping at each other again – which would irritate Hermione.

Instead, he found himself heading toward Ginny. There had been a time when they had actually dated briefly, but they were long past that now, and had settled into a comfortable friendship. When she saw him approaching, she smiled. "I thought you'd be too important to visit with a mere student, Mr. Guest-of-Honor."

"Well, I am, of course," he replied, tongue-in-cheek. "But I have to have something to report back to Ron when he asks how you are." He leaned down to kiss her cheek. "So, what shall I tell him?"

"Tell him to mind his own business," Ginny replied pertly. "Now, are you going to dance with me or what?"

"Sure," he said, as an uptempo beat started to fill the hall. "Let's go."

Hermione felt awkward and out-of-sorts, standing next to Severus and watching the students – and Harry – gyrate around the makeshift dance floor. She didn't know how to behave toward Severus at an event like this. Meals were comfortable and familiar now, but she and Severus had never really been out in public in any other context. Frowning, she realized for the first time that they had never really even had a date.

Perhaps she would have to suggest that sometime soon. For now, though, she just wanted, more than anything, to dance with him – slow, fast, whatever – it didn't matter much. She loved to dance, and he was really her only option, except she wasn't sure he even danced. At any school ball or dance or party or whatever, he had always stood around glaring at the students, particularly those who got a little too close to one another in the slow dances, or looked like they were trying to sneak off somewhere together.

So she had never seen him dance; therefore, she was afraid to ask him lest he turn her down. And even if he did dance, he might not want anyone to know that they were involved with each other, so he might turn her down anyway. Which meant that unless he asked her to dance, she wouldn't get to dance with him at all.

Unfortunately, she couldn't really dance with anyone else, either. For one thing, she wasn't a student any longer, so it would be awkward to dance with anyone who was. But the professors, other than Severus, weren't people she could even imagine cutting loose with on the dance floor.

So she was just standing around, watching the students to make sure none tried to do anything inappropriate and trying to think of something to say to Severus, when Dumbledore spoke from just behind her. "Hermione, dear, you should be out there dancing! Severus, why don't you go dance with Hermione?"

Severus was startled by Dumbledore's question, and he glanced uncomfortably at Hermione. He found her watching him with what looked like a mixture of hope and embarrassment. He hated dancing, and he really didn't want to fuel any speculation that Dumbledore or anyone else might be engaging in, and anyway, someone had to make sure the students stayed out of trouble.

He opened his mouth to say he didn't dance – which wasn't a lie because even though he knew how, it was certainly true that he didn't actually do it. "I don't –" but then Hermione's face fell, and he forgot all the reasons why he had intended to say no. Instead, he said, "I don't know if she wants to risk the injury-free status of her feet by dancing with me."

Her face lit up, and he was a little bit disgusted with himself at how ridiculously, out-of-proportion happy that made him. She said, "Really? You dance? I love to dance, and I'm sure you won't step on my feet. I'll bet you're very graceful."

"I wouldn't count on it, but I'm willing to give it a try," he replied, holding out a hand. She took it, and he led her onto the floor. Just then, the music changed from an uptempo jitterbug to a slow, romantic waltz. Severus barely managed to keep from groaning. Dumbledore was trying to kill him, he was sure of it.

Hermione must have sensed something, because she said tentatively, "We could wait for something faster, if you want."

Again, he wanted to agree, even opened his mouth to say yes, that would probably be best. Once again, however, he surprised himself by saying in an agreeable tone. "No, we're already here, so we may as well try it, at least."

She smiled again, and his stomach did a little flip-flop of delight. He bowed formally, and she curtsied, and then they started to dance. He was surprised at how natural it felt. For the first time in his life, he understood why people might enjoy dancing. They glided and twirled and flowed around the floor, and he quite forgot that the entire Hogwarts community was present, and perhaps watching. He simply lost himself in the music and in Hermione's beautiful eyes. A small part of him remained a little bit disgusted by his sappy thoughts, but most of him simply didn't care what anyone thought – not even that cynical part of himself.

After a while, the music changed, yet Severus had no inclination to leave the dance floor. Apparently, neither did Hermione – by tacit agreement, they simply shifted into a new dance, one that matched the faster beat of a cha-cha. A little later, the music changed again, and again, they continued dancing to the new beat.

In fact, they danced through so many changes that Severus lost count. He vaguely thought that he should be getting tired by now, but he wasn't. Instead, he was exhilarated, dancing with Hermione and watching her total immersion in the experience.

At long last, the music stopped altogether. Severus looked around, realizing suddenly that nearly everyone was gone. Only a few stragglers remained – Dumbledore, Minerva, Potter, and the Weasley girl – and they were all intently watching him and Hermione.

He felt himself flush with embarrassment. He would have said something, but he had no idea what to say. Fortunately, Hermione beat him to it. "What's everyone looking at? Haven't you ever seen anyone dance before?" He was still holding her hand; despite his discomfort, he didn't let go.

"What? Oh, yes, of course," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "We were just pleased that you were enjoying yourself so much, Hermione. Weren't we, Minerva?"

Minerva gave Dumbledore a chastising look, but she said only, "Yes, of course we were."

Miss Weasley assured them, "Oh, Hermione, you two were so graceful! I mean, of course I knew you danced – you dance with Harry and Ron all the time. I just – I didn't know Professor Snape could dance – I don't think I've ever seen him dance before. And I didn't know you were friends with him, either. Although I probably should have realized, considering you've been sitting with him at meals."

Miss Weasley prattled on for several minutes longer, and Severus just tuned her out. He was busy watching Potter, who just stood there, looking a little shellshocked as he stared at Severus and Hermione's linked hands. Finally, Potter seemed to shake himself out of his reverie. "Come on, Ginny," he interrupted the Weasley girl, who was asking Hermione something about salsa dancing lessons, "You're out past curfew, so let's go before Snape deducts points." Severus raised an eyebrow, but said nothing; with the Headmaster there looking benignly on, deducting points would have seemed a bit presumptuous, in his opinion.

Hermione hugged her friend. "We don't see nearly enough of one another anymore, Ginny. Maybe we can go shopping next Saturday?" Severus inwardly groaned. He had forgotten – or more likely, repressed – that next week was the first Hogsmeade weekend. He could only hope he wouldn't be forced to chaperone.

"Oh, yes," Miss Weasley enthused. "Let's do!" Before she could say anything more, Potter dragged her away. Hermione called something after her, and Miss Weasley responded, but Severus paid no attention. This time, he glanced at Minerva and Dumbledore, who seemed to be having a silent conversation. Minerva's look was accusing and scolding, while Dumbledore was trying, rather unsuccessfully, to look innocent.

Severus sighed. Well, it was clear that something was up, but he had no interest in it. It was bad enough that his students and colleagues had probably all seen him dancing with Hermione. He certainly didn't want to hang around while Dumbledore plotted and Minerva tried to rein him in. "Are you ready to go?" he asked Hermione. She nodded.

"Yes, I'm suddenly feeling exhausted."

"Then let's go." He led her away, calling a terse good night over his shoulder to Minerva and Dumbledore.

Harry was thoughtful as he walked back to Hermione's room after leaving Ginny at the entrance to the girls' dormitories. Ginny had peppered him with questions about Snape and Hermione all the way back there. In fact, the questions had begun as soon as she had seen Hermione dancing with Snape, and the only time she had let up was during that brief conversation she had had with Hermione right before they left the dance.

Initially, he had tried not to answer her at all. He should've known that wouldn't work, however; Ginny wasn't one to let a potentially juicy story go. Then, he had told her, "Apparently, they're friends now. Or so she tells me."

Which was true, as far as it went. Hermione did seem convinced that Snape cared about her – not that Harry really believed that. The Greasy Git never really cared about anyone at all, in his opinion. Still Hermione said he was her friend, so that's what Harry told Ginny.

But Ginny still wasn't satisfied. "Come on, Harry, people don't look at their friends like that. They never took their eyes off each other, for hours! They must be in love. There's no other explanation. But why wouldn't Hermione tell me if she and Snape were in love? I mean, I know we've hardly seen each other since school started this year, but we're still best friends!"

"I don't know, Ginny," Harry snapped, losing patience with her. "Hermione would hardly talk to me about being in love with Snape, would she?" He determinedly ignored the fact that Hermione had, in fact, done just that, both last night and again earlier today. It didn't count, he decided, because Hermione was mistaken. She had to be.

She couldn't be in love with Snape, Harry assured himself. It must be just a crush – Snape had probably used some sort of spell on her, or perhaps a potion, and once it wore off, she would realize that Snape was still the nasty, rude, obnoxious pain in the arse he had always been.

Now, though, Ginny was mad at Harry. Apparently, snapping at her was not the way to stay in her good graces, as she had snarked back, "Gee, I wonder why," and had slammed the door in his face. Sighing, he had turned and left, promising himself that he would apologize to her tomorrow. After all, it wasn't her fault that the sight of Snape holding Hermione's hand so firmly had unsettled him.

For tonight, however, Harry ignored the little voice that whispered, Snape wouldn't hold Hermione's hand in public if he were really just using her ...

When Severus and Hermione were gone, Dumbledore quickly began waving his wand, as if he were anxious to restore the Great Hall to order. He tried to ignore the way Minerva was looking at him, focusing instead on his task, and on directing the house-elves who popped in to assist him. For a while, she watched him, occasionally transfiguring something back to its original state, or vanishing a stray leaf or pumpkin, but eventually, she said, "So, Albus, I imagine you're rather pleased with yourself."

"Me? Why, Minerva, whatever for?"

She glared at him. "You know exactly what for," she insisted. "And after you promised faithfully that you wouldn't interfere, too."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dumbledore insisted stubbornly. Over the years, he had learned that some things must simply be adamantly denied, ad infinitum. He couldn't quite manage to keep the satisfaction out of his voice, however.

"Right." Minerva scowled at him. "I suppose it was just a coincidence that a waltz started just as Severus and Hermione started dancing together? And, I might add, that they took the floor at all?"

"I merely commented that Hermione would probably enjoy dancing. Either one of them could have said no."

"They wouldn't have danced at all if you had minded your own business, like you promised, Albus."

"And look how much fun they might have missed," Albus said reasonably. "In any event, I didn't interfere. I made a suggestion; fortunately for everyone involved, they took it and had a good time. Where's the downside?"

"Albus, you really haven't thought this through," Minerva said. "Which is rather surprising, considering you spent an entire war strategizing with a longer-term view than anyone else. Are you out of practice or just bored?" she asked him, managing to sound both annoyed and curious.

He didn't answer. It was true that life had been a tad dull since the defeat of the Dark – not that he would wish for that sort of excitement to return. He had certainly seen enough of it to last several lifetimes. He acknowledged to himself, though, that if he had something more urgent to focus on, he probably would not have cooked up this little soiree at all.

When he continued silent, maintaining his innocent expression, Minerva continued, "You know that Severus hates to have anyone know his business, but now, because of your 'suggestion,' the entire student body, not to mention the whole faculty, all know how he feels about Hermione. When he realizes that, who knows how he'll react? He may well decide it's not worth all the attention, and end things before they have a chance to really begin."

"He wouldn't do that," Dumbledore replied, more confidently than he suddenly felt. "He's in love with her."

"If he is, now everyone knows it," Minerva said again. "He is not going to be happy about that. No matter that most people might be happy for him – it's just going to seem to him that everyone knows his weakness. If you had let him keep it to himself for a while, he would have been able to get used to the idea – to prepare himself for what people might say or think. But now, he's going to be forced to deal with people's reactions, whether he's ready or not." She shook her head. "Honestly, Albus, for one of the smartest wizards in history, you have a lot to learn about people and their emotions. I just hope you didn't do any lasting damage."

With that, she left him standing in the Great Hall, wondering if she might be right – that it might have been better to stay out of it completely.