Chapter 16
Though I knew our talk hadn't exactly made the two of us friends, Nikolas and I had come to a mutual unspoken understanding. The kind that shared casual nods of greeting when we passed in the halls, or the occasional "How do you do?" if the situation called for it, but at least the snide comments and glowering phase of our relationship was over.
Although I began watching the revolutionary events unfold across the English Channel with increasing interest, kept what I had learned about Nikolas to myself. Truly, I had bigger concerns than a bloody revolution a few thousand miles away, namely the clue for the second task constantly taking up space in the back of my mind, and later Professor Aragon's announcement.
"As head of Ravenclaw House, it is my privilege to announce to you all the upcoming Yule Ball."
I groaned audibly from the back of the room. I knew it was fast coming, but vainly held out hope that every other member of the student body and faculty might forget so we could avoid the farce entirely. This was going to be an absolute disaster. I could not — and would not — dance. I barely felt in control enough of my body on a good day, and my coordination was, to say the least, lacking. The idea of humiliating myself in public sent dread coiling in my stomach.
Professor Aragon's lips twitched up into a bemused smile as he traced the source of the outburst to me. "I can see our wonderful champion already knows where this is going, but let me explain for the rest of you. The ball will be held on the twenty-fifth of this month, open to those of fourth year and higher. It is not obligatory..." he looked directly at me, a knowing smile on his lips, "except for you, Miss Lovett. You and your fellow champions will open the ball to the rest of your classmates." I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off. "And no, you can't get out of it. You only need do the opening dance, then you can flee back to the safety of your dormitory."
He knew me all too well.
A girl in my year, Pranavi, raised her hand. "Is it formal wear?"
Aragon nodded obligingly. "Of course, Miss Edara. I've been advised by my colleagues to warn you not to bring eternal shame upon our school with your conduct." He rolled his eyes to show he didn't really think such a dramatic warning necessary. "That being said, it is my duty to ensure you can achieve as much, which is why we are gathered here, so you may all learn how to dance with as much grace and charm as the King and Queen themselves."
A bundle of fifth year girls giggled as he crossed over to me, bowing deeply, and offered his hand.
Could I refuse? Was that an option?
Reading my expression, Aragon laughed, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. "May I request the honour of this dance? It is improper for a lady to refuse an offer," he informed both me and the class, completely switched into teacher mode. "Don't worry if you don't know the etiquette yet. That is why we are here."
Giving Professor Aragon my best, most fine tuned scowl at being backed into a corner in front of the entire House, I begrudgingly took his hand.
"Have I not suffered enough, professor?" I complained in a low whisper as he lead me to the center of the room. "You know full well I haven't danced a day in my life."
"Knowing you, you won't thank me later, but it's better that you learn now instead of in the middle of the Yule Ball." To the class, as if I had never uttered a word, he dictated, "Now, let's say we were to dance the waltz. The lady would place her hands here," he moved one of my hands to my shoulder and took the other in his hand, "whilst the gentleman keeps their remaining hand on the lady's back. The gentleman will then step with his left foot forward, to which the lady will right step back..."
He demonstrated the moves in real time, and I was sure he would have been extremely graceful were his partner anyone else. I stumbled back and forth trying to match his movements in opposite form, without much success.
"My little champion can fight a cockatrice no problem, but a little dance is too much to ask for?" Professor Aragon arched a dark brow in teasing condescension as he carried us across the floor.
"Facing the cockatrice didn't require either grace or a dress code," I stated bluntly, pursing my lips to his just how hard I was gritting my teeth. I had to commend the professor for not even wincing when I stepped on his toes. A true credit to his profession. "You know better than anyone why I shouldn't go to the bloody ball."
"Language," he chided. "You needn't worry, my little champion. I have every confidence in your ability to learn to dance. You are a member of my house, after all."
"How about I get Peeves to break my legs," I mused hopefully as Aragon guided me in a complicated series of moves. "Surely I couldn't dance then, could I?"
"You'll have to try a little harder than that, my child, or do you forget you attend a school for magic? The nurse would have you fixed up before Peeves even made his escape."
Damn. He was right. Back to the old drawing board.
"Professor..." I hesitated, irrationally ashamed to voice my primary issue with the ball, beyond even my nonexistent skill. "What am I to do? I haven't a galleon to my name." Since I'd lost it to Damon weeks ago. "What am I supposed to wear? My school robes? I'll be humiliated!"
We slowed to a halt as the crescendo of music wavered, and the pairs brave enough to follow us to the main floor to practice followed suit. Aragon stepped back, bowing civilly.
"Don't worry, little champion." He smiled kindly, the same way he had when he had met me as a frightened eleven year old orphan. "I'll take care of everything. All you must do is learn the steps and find a partner."
He turned to address the room, before dismissing us, but his words caused me to momentarily short-circuit.
A partner. I had forgotten that tiny detail. Who would possibly want to go with me? I held no great illusions about my prospects, and while I wasn't hideous, nor was I the genteel girl I was certain men envisioned escorting to such things. What if no one asked and I was left alone on the dance floor to twirl by myself?
It were those thoughts that tormented me on the way out of the castle. I couldn't even complain to Cassius, Damon, or Lyra for another hour until they got out of class, since right now was still technically my free period. I would have just forced my brother to be my partner, were it not for the age restrictions. He would have found the whole ordeal dreadfully miserable, which would have only been a bonus. What was I going to do?
"Augh!" I exclaimed angrily, chucking a stone at the smooth lake surface in frustration.
One by one, I tossed, kicked, and flung all the stones in my vicinity onto the rippling lake surface, not bothering to even try skipping them anymore, although I did feel a little bad when I accidentally hit one of the giant squids many lazy tentacles.
"You seem awful chipper today."
I turned to the bright voice and, unsurprisingly, found Frey. He surveyed me with thinly veiled amusement, handing me another smooth stone, seeing I had run out.
"What has got the brave cockatrice slayer so enraged? Should I fear for my safety?"
"First of all, I didn't kill the cockatrice. If anything, I think he won that battle," I declared, letting the stone drop back down to the damp earth.
"And second?"
"I haven't thought that far."
Frey glided closer, and I noticed he had recently discarded his thick furs for more weather appropriate clothing, despite being the only Durmstrang student I had witnessed to do so. In fact, he had donned robes of the most vibrant teal colour, in all likelihood to compliment his eyes. Regardless, I couldn't imagine his steel eyed Headmistress to approve of his wardrobe change.
"What are you doing here?" I asked after a moment of amiable silence.
"Primarily, I'm seeking asylum from the merciless prison warden torturing me with dance lessons," he responded with a theatrical sigh.
"I suppose you're preparing for the ball as well?" I asked, moving beside him in the grass. "I would have expected you to love dancing, considering your whole," I waved my hands vaguely over his exuberant form, "image."
"Only with the right partner." He winked lasciviously. "Though I'm currently quite afraid for my life."
"Oh, you are, are you?" I gave him a flat look, not buying it for a second.
"It's true! I haven't gotten a moment's peace since the ball was announced!"
"They only announced it this morning," I reminded him.
"And what a harrowing morning it's been." He placed the back of his hand to his forhead in imitation of a novel damsel in distress. "Ladies have been 'casually' stalking me around the castle in hopes of being asked. I feel as though I'm being hunted. There's a girl watching me at every turn, and I can't even fault them," he sighed again, sounding sounding like he was bracing to impart wisdom beyond his years. "It's not their fault that I'm absolutely irresistible. They simply can't control themselves."
I rolled my eyes. "You poor thing. It must be hard having so many people tripping over themselves to be your partner."
"You have no idea. How about you?"
"Oh, you know. I can't dance and don't have a partner or a dress, but other than all that my prospects are looking fantastic," I muttered sarcastically. "I really just can't wait to make a fool of myself in front of the school. Again."
"Then it's decided!" Frey clapped his hands together cheerfully. "You will be my date!"
I stumbled off the log I'd been balancing on in shock.
"I beg your pardon?" I sputtered.
"It's perfect! I don't have to worry about being mauled by my loyal admirers and you don't have to worry about finding a partner. Next to me, it won't matter if you can't tell your left foot from your right, because I'll be beautiful and graceful enough for us both. Trust me, no one will be looking at you with me there." He flipped a short lock of glistening hair over his shoulder in faux pretentiousness. Slowly, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "My Headmistress will be absolutely beside herself when she hears I'm going to the ball with someone from Hogwarts, least of all their champion."
"I didn't agree yet!" I protested to deaf ears, although I didn't have any real objections. It was actually a huge relief to know I wouldn't be the only person alone.
"You didn't say no," said Frey, waggling his finger at me pompously.
"Technically, you didn't even ask," I grumbled, swatting his finger away. "But fine. This should be new, two champions going together. No doubt the reporters will have a field day." It wasn't like I had better options.
• — • — •
Supper was an exciting affair. The fervour over the ball in a fortnight was fresh on everyone's mind, giving me some unwanted attention, though not much. People were really too concerned about who they were going with themselves too start psychoanalysing my choice in partner, for which I was grateful.
Lyra chucked a snappy grape at Damon's head. "So when are you asking me?"
Damon caught the fruit, impressively, with his mouth. Swallowing, he responded, "You could always ask me, you know. I'd love the attention."
"I'm sure you would," I commented, spooning soup into my mouth.
"I'm not asking anything." Lyra poked him firmly in the chest. "I'm ordering. We are going together, end of story."
"Fine by me."
"What about you?" Cass inquired nervously, turning his body so that we were facing each other. "I know you need a date to open up the ball. Do you wanna go together, too? Keep things simple?"
Why hadn't I thought of that? Of course I could have just gone with Cass. I bet even Damon would have deigned to give me a single dance at the beginning if I asked.
I shifted awkwardly in my seat and, for some reason, happened to catch Altair's eye over at the Slytherin table. I tore my gaze away to answer.
"Actually, I already made plans with someone, but thanks for the thought. I wish I had thought of you sooner." I shook my head, in awe at my own forgetfulness. "At least this way you won't have to be my pity-date to. You can go with someone you actually like."
"Oh, right." He gave me a tight lipped smile, turning back to his food. "Really great."
Damon perked up. "And who is this mystery man, young lady?" he demanded, taking the tone and mannerisms of an overbearing father. "Is he the respectable sort? Will he bring honour to this family?"
I laughed at his narrowed eyes and puffed up chest. Thinking about Frey, in all his carefree glory, I answered, "I'm terribly sorry, father, but he's as dishonourable as they come."
He gasped in mock horror. "I didn't raise you to have scandalous rendezvous with honourless hoodlums!" He turned to Lyra. "Wife, did you know of our daughter's impropriety?"
She wiped away fake tears of anguish. "Her honour is lost! Who will wed her now?"
"Leave me alone," I laughed.
"Tell us, daughter, what vandal must I duel to reclaim your lost integrity?"
"I was going to tell you, but now I think I'll keep it to myself, thanks."
"What? No!" Lyra complained. "Husband, do you see how she disrespects us?"
Damon nodded mournfully, a hand clutching his heart.
"It's what you get for being so annoying! You'll just have to find out at the ball with the rest of the school. Consider me officially up for adoption."