Eye of the Beholder

Chapter 12

Chapter 12. A Night to Remember

The dance was in full swing by the time Sasha reached the hall. Nobody noticed her as she walked along the side of the room towards the back, where it was much less crowded. She spotted Cho on the dance floor with Harry, and Adrian and the others were dancing in a group, close by. Sasha did not feel like joining in, and was happy just watching the celebrations. There really was an air of relaxed happiness in the hall, and she was not surprised. Exams were over – for better or worse. Most students were getting ready to leave early the next morning on the Hogwarts Express for the holidays, and they would soon see their families again.

 
She walked over to the punch table and poured herself a glass. Mango and pumpkin juice with a bit of something tangy. It tasted good. She turned around and, walked over to one of the free chairs. Removing her dress robe, she hung it on the back of the chair and sat down to watch the crowd. She did not see Snape anywhere, but this did not surprise her. She imagined he would show up to make an appearance then quickly leave, if he had not done so already. This would not be an event he would enjoy.

 
The reason she did not notice Snape was because he was standing far behind her, in the shadows of the room. He was dressed formally in an elegant black silk shirt, which was mostly hidden by his fine dress robe. His French cuffs were held together by diamond and gold cufflinks in the shape of a serpent. Fitting for the Head of Slytherin, he thought when he chose them earlier on in the evening. His black-on-black outfit, combined with his tall frame and raven dark hair, made him an imposing figure. It also let him melt into the shadows without anyone noticing his presence. That is how he preferred it.

 
So far the students had not pestered him too much. Earlier in the evening, when people had started to move onto the dance floor, Pansy Parkinson had sauntered up to him, batting her eyelashes in a poor attempt at flirtation. She was wearing some sort of hideous blood red, sequined wrap that reached from her double chins to the floor, and was far too tight for her ample body. She rather looked like an over-stuffed sausage in the outfit, he thought wryly. "Care to dance, Severus," she said in what she probably thought was a sexy, mature voice.

 
Snape narrowed his eyes, looked down his nose at the inbred creature in front of him and sneered.

 
"Miss Parkinson, must I remind you that I am your Head of House, and that I have never given you, nor anyone else for that matter, permission to call me by my given name." He cold voice spoke softly, so the words had more impact. "And, I am not one to be found wriggling around like a flobberworm on some filthy floor, making a fool of myself for some chit who fancies herself a dance. Now, I expect you to leave my presence immediately or I will be forced to remove you myself. Is that clear, Miss Parkinson?" Snape’s voice waigidigidly cold, ensuring Pansy has no illusions he was playing hard to get.

 
In response, Pansy had dropped all pretenses at seduction. Giving him a baleful eye, she turned and waddled her way out of his sight. Her dress was too tight around her legs, forcing her to take small, mincing steps, which added further embarrassment as she tried to get as far away from Snape as possible. He smiled cruelly. Sometimes it just made him feel good to be on the offensive, and take some of the over-inflated egos down a notch or two. However, after that unfortunate encounter with Pansy, he decided to seek refuge in the dark wings of the back hall.

 
He was surprised when he saw Sasha enter the room an hour later. First, he did not think she would be here. Secondly, he almost did not recognize her. She looked absolutely beautiful. He had watched her enter and quietly make her way to the back of the room. She was graceful in her stride, not hurried, but calm and with an air of confidence he had never seen in her before. And she had done something to her hair. It was swept up, so for once you could see the fine, delicate features of her face. You could still see the scar tissue on her face, but it was muted in the soft lights of the room. He was used to seeing it after all the time they had recently spent together. Frankly, when he looked at or spoke with her, he never really noticed it anymore. It was just a part of her.

 
Tonight, he could not keep his eyes off her. He watched with hooded eyes as she helped herself to the punch, then went to sit and watch the others. As she removed her outer robe, he noted how the cut of her elegant dress accented her long, sensual neck and revealed just a hint of creamy cleavage. It also emphasized her flat stomach, narrow waist and gently flaring hips. It stirred him to see her in an outfit that revealed her feminine features, instead of just a school uniform. He could not help but compare Sasha’s choice of eveningwear to Pansy’s. He much preferred the understated elegance of Sasha’s tasteful dress to the tacky flash of Pansy’s.

 
He did not want to approach Sasha, as it would be unseemly after his encounter with Pansy. Besides, he berated himself, after spending so much time with him in the lab, he was sure she was sick of the mere sight of him. She would not want to be stuck spending the rest of the evening chatting to her Potions Professor, he thought grimly. No, he was satisfied just to stand in the shadows and watch her.

 
Sasha was just finishing her glass of punch when Dumbledore appeared beside her.

 
"Sasha, I must say you look very fetching this evening." His eyes twinkled at the sight of her. "You have really blossomed tonight."

 
Sasha returned his smile. "I have to admit, I feel pretty good about things these days," she replied.

 
"Oh, and why is that, may I ask?" he inquired, taking a seat beside her.

 
"I am not too sure," she replied honestly. "Exams went well. Professor Snape said the potions are coming along as well as can be expected. And, well, for some reason, I just feel happy," she said with a smile and a shrug.

 
Dumbledore looked at her with a knowing grin. She had blushed briefly at the mention of Snape, and he remembered the words of praise she afforded him when they were in the lab. I may be old, Dumbledore thought, but I am not blind. He recognized the beginnings of a romance when saw it. And he had a feeling he knew who the lucky recipient was.

 
There was no way he would ever condone any sort of relationship between a student and a teacher. However, in the potions lab the other evening, he had stood at the door for a good few minutes before making his presence known. If Snape had been alone in his lab, he would have known the exact second Dumbledore stepped into the outer potions classroom, let alone the inner dungeon rooms. No, Dumbledore noticed the way Snape had watched Sasha out of the corner of his eye while he pretended to mark exams. It was a very un-Snapeish thing for him to do, Dumbledore thought. However, Sasha is the first person Snape has taken any positive interest in, as far as he could remember. And frankly, he knew Snape would never hurt or jeopardize her in any way.

 
The two of them would probably be good for each other, he thought. That is, if they both felt the same way towards each other. Dumbledore had the feeling Sasha was too innocent, and Snape too damn frightened, to do anything about it. So, that means he would have to help things along, Dumbledore thought with a twinkle in his eye. You are such a softie when it comes to romance, Dumbledore chided himself.

 
"Sasha, would you care to indulge an old wizard, and accept a dance with me?" Dumbledore asked with a gentle smile on his face.

 
Sasha blanched slightly. How does anyone say no to the Headmaster? Before she could answer, Dumbeldoer stood, and with a wave of his wand, the first strings of a very old song started to play. The worried look on her face vanished, and she laughed.

 
"This, I think I can handle," she exclaimed as they made their way to the dance floor to join the others. The song was a very old one, and the dance was traditional, one that every first year child learned when they came to Hogwarts. It reminded Sasha of the old muggles Renaissance dances, where everyone would stand in a line, factheitheir partners. Then, bridging hands, the partners at each end of the line would stand in dance formation and tango their way through the bridged hands in time to the increasing beat of the music. Hopefully, the two partners would miss each other, but sometimes they would collide, causing them to change partners, and join the rest of the lineup. By the end of the song, Sasha and Dumbledore had successfully made it through seven times, and she was flushed with excitement.

 
Dumbledore escorted Sasha through the crowd, back to where she was sitting previously. He sat down and made a show of resting his weary feet.

 
"You should be out there," he indicated the dance floor with a nod of his head, "enjoying yourself, Sasha."

 
She smiled politely, but shook her head. "No, I am not much of a dancer, I am afraid."

 
"But you were fine with me," Dumbledore countered, his eyebrows raised.

 
She smiled. "That dance, yes. Slower dances, maybe, but definitely not the fanes.nes. I am just not that good on my feet," she finished with a shrug.

 
Dumbledore looked at her with a conspiratal wink. "I was hoping I could enlist your help in getting some of these dead beat, wall-flowers out there." Before Sasha could say anything, Dumbledore turned around and peered directly into the darkness behind him.

 
"Come out Severus, I knew you are hiding back there."

 
Snape startled. Dumbledore had looked right through the darkness and directly into his eyes. How does he do that, Snape thought, irked. He had been thoroughly enjoying himself, watching as Sasha and Dumbledore waltzed their way through the bridge of hands. She was so caught up in the dance she had lost her self-conscienceness, he observed. Throwing her head back in laughter it was obvious she was enjoying herself immensely. He noticed a slight flush to her cheeks and a thin film of perspiration on her forehead when they walked back to their chairs. Despite this, he still thought she looked absolutely beautiful.

 
"Severus?" Dumbledore called.

 
He snapped himself out of the reverie, and pushed himself off the wall. He silently strode over to Dumbledore, a frown on his face.

 
"Sir?" he inquired indifferently.

 
"Well, have you been enjoying yourself so far, Severus?" Dumbeldoer asked innocently.

 
Snape not quite hid the sneer from his voice. "Not exactly, Headmaster."

 
"Oh? why why is that?"

 
"Because as I told you the other day, dances are not my ‘thing’," he said coldly.

 
"Well, that is because you have not tried, Severus. I suggest you take the advice I gave you earlier, and mingle with the students a bit," Dumbledore said patiently.

 
Snape stared at Dumbledore with a look of disgust. "Please, I don’t fancy forced chit-chat with the spoiled, inbred offspring of the rich and stupid. I spend enough time trying to force some learning into them during class, and I don’t care to spend my valuable personal time mingling with them," he spat out between clenched teeth. Gods, would Dumbledore never let it go, Snape thought.

 
"Well, then may I suggest you ask Sasha if she would care to dance? I promise you she is neither spoiled, nor inbred. And you never know, you may actually enjoy yourself for once, Severus." At those words both Sasha and Snape looked at each other with shock, and more than just a little trepidation on both their behalves. This was something neither of them expected, and neither were comfortable with.

 
It was Sasha who broke the tense silence first. "Thanks all the same, Professor Dumbledore, but I really don’t feel comfortable during the fast tunes." She hoped this would put him off, and she could spare Snape the embarrassment of having to been seen dancing with her. The last thing she wanted was Snape forced into something he did not want to do, and have it associated with her.

 
"Oh, that is not a problem if you are the Headmaster, Sasha," Dumbledore said with his twinkling blue eyes. He stood and listened to the music a moment, thinking. Then, with a flick of his wand, the first bars of a hauntingly lovely, slow tune started to play.

 
It was obvious to both Sasha and Snape that Dumbledore would not let this go. Resigned, Snape walked over to Sasha, and looking her in the eyes, held out his hand. She peered up at him, uncertain, but accepted it. Snape gently helped her up, and still holding her hand, guided her to the dance floor.

 
She turned to face him, suddenly very shy, and uncertain of what to do with her hands. Snape instinctively understood the problem, and placing one hand around her tiny waist, he rested it in the small of her back. He instructed her to place her right hand on his shoulder, and let the remainder of her arm rest on his. He took her left hand in his, and held it out comfortably at shoulder height.

 
He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. "Just let me guide you, and follow the directions I give you with my hands and body," he said. He began to move gracefully, guiding her carefully around the other slow dancers. She held herself stiffly, still uncomfortable at the thought of Snape being strong-armed into dancing with her.

 
Sasha lifted her head up to speak to him, and realized he had been watching her face for some time.

 
"I am sorry Dumbledore forced you into this, Professor Snape. I mean with me. I can’t dance, and don’t want to cause you too much embarrassment out here," she said apologetically.

 
Snape gave her the briefest of smiles, and shook his head, clearing some of the dark locks from his face. "There is nothing to apologize for," he said. "You would never embarrass me, Sasha."

 
His words were surprising, but reassuring, and Sasha began to relax a bit in his arms. Trusting him to guide her, she closed her eyes. She felt the coolness of his touch, and the strength in his arms and shoulder. He was much more muscular than she would have imagined she realized. Then again, he always wore his long, black robes, so she never did get a good look at him. More comfortable with the steps now, she moved in a bit closer to his body. With a tiny thrill, she felt Snape tighten his hold on her, in response.

 
This close, Snape could smell the clean scent of her hair mixed with the subtleness of her perfume and natural musk. It was intoxicating to him to actually touch and smell her, after just watching for the past while. Holding her this close, and feeling her body start to relax into his, stirred him. He felt a familiar tightening in his loins. He wanted to let her know it was just shock and surprise at Dumbledore’s request that they dance together, that had him confused. If anything, he owed Dumbledore a favour for giving him this brief, intimate moment with Sasha. He leaned down towards her ear so she could hear him better.

 
"You look lovely tonight Sasha," he whispered. She shivered in pleasure. She was not sure if it was his words or the way that his breath moved across her ear, that was the cause of her reaction. Either way, goosebumps appeared along her neck and down her back in response. Snape noticed her shudder, and was confused. Was it possible he was responsible for her reaction to him, or were the goosebumps just a physical response of cooling off after her dance with Dumbledore?

 
"Are you cold?" Snape whispered again, holding her even tighter. His lips briefly brushed her ear when he spoke, which made Sasha’s legs weak, and her heart beat even faster. It felt so good just to be held in his arms, she thought. She wanted to lean in and rest her head against his chest, but did not dare do so. Instead, she looked up at him and met his black, depthless gaze with her dove gray eyes. Snape was surprised and encouraged by the desire and want he recognized in them. The realization that she was not disgusted by his touch, and more so that she actually was responding to him, was heady.

 
"No, not cold," she finally replied shakily. She quickly looked away, as she felt she was losing herself in the intensity of his eyes. Weak with an unnamed need, she gave into her desires, and turning her head slightly she rested it lightly into the crook of his neck. In this posture, she could see just see a few springy, jet-black hairs curl over the top of his shirt collar. She wanted to reach out and touch them. She felt content and safe in his arms, and more than anything else, she did not want the dance to end.

 
Snape too, was succumbing to the effects of their bodies pressed so close together. The realization hit that she wanted to be as close to him, as he wanted her to. His heart started to beat faster, and the knowledge made him feel confident and bold. Snape old boy, don’t do anything rash, he thought to himself. Looking around at the others on the dance floor, he guided them to a less crowded area in the corner. He slowly brought his head down, and rested his cheek against the side of her head. Almost as if by its own free will, his lips parted, and his tongue quickly flicked out as fast as a snake’s, tasting the saltiness on her temple. He felt her shudder with pleasure at this, and just the thought that he was responsible for making her body react to his touch was an aphrodisiac to him.

 
Her breathing was now heavy, and Snape could feel the weakness in her limbs from his touches. The way her head was positioned, he felt her breath channeled down the front of his shirt. Her hot breath against the cool of his silk shirt caused his nipples to harden, and the tightening in his loins became an undeniable urge.

 
The both realized the song that had been playing was winding down. Neither of them wanted this moment to end. They straightened, still holding onto each other, and took a hesitant step apart as the last notes faded. The next song started, and to their mutual relief, it was another slow one. Thyou you Dumbledore, if you and your wand are responsible for this, Snape thought.

 
Sasha looked up into Snape’s black eyes. They stood there, saying nothing for the longest time. He didn’t ask, but just pulled her in close to him again, and she willingly went. Just holding on to each other, swaying in time to the music and feeling each other’s body was sufficient.

 
Sasha looked up to say something to Snape, when she felt a rap on her shoulder. Startled, she looked over to see Pansy Parkinson standing there, one hand on her ample hip. Pansy was staring at Snape, but she addressed Sasha.

 
"Mind if I cut in? This is his second dance with you, and it seems a bit odd the hhe has not asked anyone else, doesn’t it?" she said with a smirk.

 
Pansy did not wait for a reply, but roughly shouldered Sasha away grabbing at Snape’s hands. Remembering his comment earlier on about chitchat with spoiled, inbred offspring, Sasha had to suppress a grin. It would look rather odd if he only danced with her, she admitted. As much as she wanted to stay there in his arms, she was not about to make a scene.

 
She looked directly at Snape, hoping he would get her hint. "No problem Pansy, I could probably use some fresh air at the moment."

 
Sasha turned, and without a backward look at the two Slytherins, she walked over to her empty chair. She gathered her robe, settled it around her shoulders, and casually walked out of the hall. She had no idea what Snape would do or say to the girl. Hopefully it would not involve anything about the hideous dress she was wearing. Who is she kidding, this is Snape we are talking about - of course he would! Sasha walked through the entrance hall and out a set of doors to the courtyard, a repressed smile on her face at the thought of the verbal exchange going on between them at this moment.