Friendly Fire

The young woman nodded and took his hand, giving him another one of those smashing smiles, while the musing wizard tried to ignore how pleasant her small palm felt to his skin. As he led her onto the dance floor, the Potions master could feel far too many eyes fixed on them for his liking, and he swore that one pair of eyes was twinkling quite smugly.

Finally got your wish, didn’t you, Albus?

Severus brushed the thought away as they reached the middle of the ballroom. Now he had to focus on the task at hand, dancing with Granger. A slight uneasiness had gripped him, and like Draco, he did not plan on showing any shortcomings in this challenge, as Minerva had put it. The Head of Slytherin had a reputation to uphold. He positioned himself to face Granger and searched her eyes for permission before placing his right hand on her waist. The orchestra was playing a slow waltz; it was a task he could accomplish quite well.

"Ready, Miss Granger?" he asked, keeping his voice serene.

"Ready when you are, Professor," she replied encouragingly, waiting for him to take the lead.

Only seconds later they were surrounded by cheerful couples, dancing in step to the music and holding each other’s gaze, while Severus was pleased how easily his initial nervousness had died down.

"You are an excellent dancer, Professor,” Granger remarked kindly in a polite attempt to start a conversation. “Although I have never seen you dancing before, sir."

"Generally I prefer not to participate in that kind of sentimental nonsense, Miss Granger."

His stiff answer earned him a soft "Oh!" from her. Granger's smile wavered for a mere moment.

You know how to kill a mood, Snape.

"In that case, I am glad you did today, Professor," she confessed, playing down his offending remark.

"Considering the doubtful glances of your so-called friends, I dare say that not everybody in this room shares your sentiment, Miss Granger." The Potions master directed her attention on to the murderous looks Potter and Weasley were giving them. “They seem to fear that I might snatch Hogwarts’ Head Girl and lock her up in the dungeons,” he remarked, sneering.

“If you dare, I feel entirely up to cooperating with you, sir. I think their faces would be priceless.” Her eyes sparkled with merriment as she spoke. The little minx was teasing him outrageously.

Very well then, two can play that game.

“Your consent in this case is a quite intriguing insight, Miss Granger. I dare say, it reveals a multitude of possibilities that are worthy of consideration, don't you agree?” he replied in a deep voice. And while his Potions master persona was fixing her gaze playful with his dark eyes, Severus' mind was trying hard to neglect the strange sensation that spread in his stomach as her cheeks flushed at his words.

"My, just ignore them, please," she continued in a more earnest tone, one that could not hide her bashfulness. "I don’t think they will ever grow up."

"As milady wishes," he replied coolly as he initiated a half-twist to hide the smirk that was twitching in the corners of his mouth.

As they danced with her back slightly resting against his chest, he became aware of how the closeness and the warmth of the witch in his arms was already weakening his emotional lines of defence. He was playing with fire right now.

Nonsense.

Defying his inner voice of reason, Severus decided to continue their spirited banter, bringing his lips next to her ear.

"Although I have to admit, Miss Granger, it has crossed my mind to snatch you away tonight. You are quite enticing this evening."

The wizard turned her swiftly to face him again, preying on her reaction at his words. Brown eyes were holding black ones again, showing the witch’s surprise as well as a sort of deep affection he hadn't seen there before. The pleasant warmth that welled up in his chest at the sight was unsettling.

However, all too soon an indignant exclamation from the other side of the dance floor ended the moment, and their joint movements came to an abrupt halt.

"Mr Malfoy! Stop it!” Severus and the Gryffindor witch exchanged a curious glance before directing their eyes to the scene next to them.

A slightly dishevelled Minerva McGonagall was scolding a certain young Slytherin, one hand on her hip. “As I told you before, you cannot twist and twirl me like one of those young witches. Please try to remember that, Mr Malfoy."

"I apologise, Professor." Draco’s dismay was plainly audible in his voice.

Everybody in the Great Hall had stopped in their tracks before breaking out into laughter. Even Severus couldn’t restrain a deep and heartfelt laugh at the hilarious sight his colleague and godson made.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I suggest everybody pick up again what they were doing before being interrupted by this little interlude. Filius, please go on." He could hear Albus' voice announce from the other side of the hall.

The music started anew as Severus met Hermione Granger’s eye.

"May I?" he asked, offering his hand to her to continue their dance, his amusement still glistening in his eyes.

“Only if you promise to twist and twirl me, sir,” she replied playfully, giving him an inviting smile that caused the strange sensation in his stomach to return again.

“Do not dare me, my dear Miss Granger, do not dare me,” he admonished her quietly.

Momentarily the witch blinked, puzzled at his words, before her large brown eyes regarded him thoughtfully. The Potions master cursed inwardly — so much for his miserable attempt to push her out of his comfort zone again.

"You should do that more often," Granger stated out of the blue, evidently trying to change the subject of their conversation.

"Pardon?"

"Laugh. You should laugh more often; it becomes you and is thoroughly catching," she said softly, averting her eyes as she spoke.

This forthright suggestion stunned him finally into speechlessness. Nobody had ever dared to propose such a thing to the feared Potions master.

As the silence stretched between them, he took the chance to pull the young witch in his arms slightly closer to him, so she was still not able to face him again after that display of particular bravery.

Gryffindor’s precious one, indeed

She had charmed him in mere minutes, and Severus marvelled at the woman he was holding.

Her head was resting slightly against his shoulder now, so he was able to savour the scent of almond and vanilla in her hair; her left hand lay on his chest, while the small right one was fitting far too well into his palm. And the sparkle that had been glittering in her eyes as she challenged him earlier had given him a pleasant feeling somewhere deep down in his soul, making his heart ache.

Had her eyes always sparkled that way?

"Professor Snape!" an unwelcome voice from far away came to cut through his thoughts. "Professor, would you mind if I cut in?" Weasley. The boy was standing next to him, looking at him impatiently.

"Not at all, Mr Weasley," the Potions master replied reluctantly. As he realized the sight they both had made, Severus stepped away, instantly letting go of Hermione’s right hand as if he had been burned.

You are a lecherous old fool, Snape.

"Miss Granger." He bowed once again and swept away before she could respond, an unknown feeling of loss haunting him.

Oblivious to his surroundings as he left, Severus failed to notice a certain young man with flaming red hair who had been abandoned in the middle of the dance floor and was shaking his head in disbelief.