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IN THE FOLLOWING DAYS it soon became clear what exactly Filch was preparing, and the reason why the Weasleys and various others had been told they were staying at school for Christmas.

The Yule Ball.

Albany dreaded nothing more. Given the choice, she would have seriously considered taking on another dragon before attending a dance; especially one that she and the other champions and their dates would be leading. She had enough problems with the traditional ball to write up on parchment and nail to the staffroom door, but had been assured that the dance was—

"Very much mandatory," Snape explained, words painfully slow.

Albany stood between Viola and Zoe in the hall. The Slytherin students of fourth year and up had been summoned by their head of house for an important announcement, though as they all stood in silence, watching Snape stroll back and forth at a snail's pace, all she could feel was the dread gathering in the pit of her stomach.

Snape seemed less than amused to be the one informing them all of the event, dark beady eyes glaring from face to face.

"It is a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament to attend this ball with a partner," the greasy-haired professor drawled. "I expect each and every one of you to represent Slytherin House adequately. Should there be any disruptive or inappropriate behaviour, Mr Evercreech, I will deal with you personally."

Curtis Evercreech swallowed heavily, straightening his back after having leaned in to Miles Bletchley beside him to whisper.

Albany exhaled through her teeth. A partner. A date. She needed a date to not only attend the ball with, but to dance with. In front of the whole school. She could practically feel the excitement buzzing from the girls to either side of her, but she rather felt like vomiting.

"As I have the misfortune of instructing you all in formal dance, I will require a volunteer," Snape stated with a tense jaw.

He didn't seem at all enthusiastic about the concept, nostrils flaring as he glanced about the room, waiting for someone to raise their hand. Naturally, nobody did.

"Miss Bronwen," he called, dark eyes darting to her face. She felt her stomach drop — she certainly hadn't volunteered. "If you would join me in the centre here."

Yeah, I would take a fucking dragon, Albany thought, stepping towards the professor like a stiff plank of wood. I thought McGonagall was supposed to tell him no further discipline was needed?

"Good luck," she heard Zoe whisper sympathetically, and she took another painful step forward.

The eyes of every Slytherin in the room were on her, and she felt her skin crawl as she approached Snape, discomfort prickling her spine like needles. Faith's probably getting a kick out of this, she thought bitterly, though the anxious realisation that the actual ball would have five times the number of people watching became a far more pressing thought.

"As our champion, it is vital that you learn how to dance correctly," Snape drawled, his lip curled as he stared down at the girl.

He took up her right hand, then, and Albany was hit with the most horrific realisation yet; she was to be dancing with Snape. Her eyes widened in appalment as she stared up at him, jaw dropping. He sneered, apparently equally disgusted.

"Place your hand on my shoulder," he instructed curtly.

Albany gaped, unable to move. "What?"

Snape grit his teeth. "Put... your hand... on my shoulder."

Grateful that the state of shock she was in had numbed her to the scattered and stifled laughter around the room, Albany gingerly did as she was told. Filch started up the ball music from an unnecessarily large gramophone behind Snape, grumbling to himself, and Albany suddenly found herself being pulled back and forth in an immensely uncomfortable rhythm, stumbling over her own feet as she struggled to cope with the fact that she wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow her whole.

Snape's glare was deathly as they danced — or rather, as he danced, for Albany could barely acknowledge what was actually happening, nevermind focus on what her feet were doing. Numerous times, she heard him critique her technique, though couldn't bring herself to tune in. She felt the last of her dignity drain away as she let him lead her, wishing she could suddenly drop dead and put an end to the humiliation.

To her great disappointment, she did not drop dead. However, Snape — though probably for his own comfort — did not drag out their 'dance' much longer, eventually dropping her hand and stepping back. He called for the rest of the students to partner up, and Albany let herself fade into the crowd, horrified.

"That looked horrible," remarked Viola, stepping up beside her with a pitiful smile. "But I'm, like, super excited for the ball. Do you know who you're taking?"

Albany blinked, still trying to comprehend what was going on. "Uh, yeah," she replied vaguely, and then turned to face the girl, remembering what the question had been. "I mean, no — I...."

Viola nudged her with her elbow. "Not that you'll have any trouble — being champion and all. Boys will be throwing themselves at your feet!"

Albany stared at her in confusion and concern. "What?"

Viola grinned, eyes shifting to glance over Albany's shoulder. "Here comes one now. I'll leave you to it!"

Albany spun around as a hand tapped her shoulder lightly. She was met with the lopsided grin of Cassius Warrington, a tall and dark-skinned boy in her year. Faith had had a crush on him in fourth year, she recalled.

"May I have this dance?" he asked with a cheeky wink, extending his hand.

Albany set her jaw and took his offer gingerly, mainly because she could feel Snape's glare burning into the back of her head and was sure she would be reprimanded for not practicing her horrendous dance skills.

Cassius grinned as he brought his other hand to her waist, moving back and forth rather robotically. Albany's discomfort was far milder than with Snape, though she made her unhappiness known, glaring resolutely over his shoulder. His grin wasn't like that of the Weasley twins, cheerful and mischievous; in contrast, it was smug and intimidating.

The grin was wiped from his face as Snape hit him in the back of the head with a book — Albany was sure the title read Ball Dance for Dummies.

"You are as graceful as a Blast-Ended Skrewt, Warrington," Snape growled. "And your left foot is idle. Bronwen, perhaps if you ceased complaining and paid attention to what you are doing, you might actually look like you are trying to dance." He sneered at them before moving on to criticise another pair.

Cassius frowned at this, though did attempt in earnest to add more flow to his movements, rather unsuccessfully. Albany was struggling to focus on what her feet were doing.

"Some teacher, isn't he?" Cassius remarked conversationally.

Albany rolled her eyes in response. He laughed at her, though the sound was rather pompous.

"Listen, this ball thing, yeah?" the boy continued, grin quick to form again. "What do you say? You and me, what about it?"

"No," Albany growled without hesitation, and his grin fell again.

"Swap partners," Snape instructed loudly, and Albany eagerly made her leave as the professor whacked a boy repeatedly on the head for "improper and perverse hand placement!"

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The Great Hall at lunch was buzzing with chatter. News of the Yule Ball had spread like wildfire to the younger students, many of which were whining and wishing for an older student to invite them. As for the older students, Albany had never seen them all so excited since the arrival of the foreign schools. Groups of girls were giggling all over the place, huddled like magnets as they whispered about who had asked who, and the dance and music and food — the boys, in the meantime, it seemed were mainly the ones doing the asking.

Albany smiled at Harry as she spotted him and Ron headed out of the Great Hall as she headed in; the two boys were so involved in their nervous conversation that the spectacled boy nearly missed her. He offered her a small wave as they passed by.

She brushed off another boy as she made a beeline for Carly and the twins at the Gryffindor table; a Ravenclaw whose name she didn't even know but might have recognised from Care of Magical Creatures class had decided to be brave and ask her to the dance. Viola had been right; numerous others were watching her like hawks.

"And then Ron had to dance with McGonagall," Fred was saying gleefully as Albany slumped down on the bench opposite him. "Oh, hey Allie!"

"I presume you've heard about the ball," George said with a grin, poking her from across the table.

Albany nodded miserably.

Alicia's eyes widened a little. "Oh, wait, that means Snape had to—"

"Oh that's right!" Fred's face lit up like a firework as his gaze shot to the Slytherin eagerly. "No way, did someone have to dance with that slimy prat?"

Albany groaned, planting her head onto the table. "I had to dance with that slimy prat," she lamented, her voice muffled by the tablecloth.

The group erupted into hearty laughter; Fred was pounding at the table with his fists, and so Albany had to raise her head, cheeks burning.

"It's not funny!" she whined, though had to hide her smile upon seeing their delighted faces.

"Sweet Merlin, that's priceless!" Lee guffawed, and was attempting to do an impression of the Slytherin Head but couldn't keep a straight face.

Fred's grin was comparable to the Chesire Cat. "Oh, what I would have given to see that," he sighed, wiping his eyes dramatically.

Even Carly was smiling broadly at the thought; evidently Snape was infamous enough that even the French students knew who he was.

"I can't wait for the ball," George piped up, grinning eagerly. "It's definitely going to make Christmas more interesting."

"Know who you're going to be bringing yet?" Angelina asked, raising her eyebrows at the twins as she leaned in to the conversation.

Fred smirked. "I might have someone in mind," he replied nonchalantly, though the eye contact he held with the girl was a little more than casual, Albany noted with amusement.

Lee sighed. "Well, I don't," he complained, slouching in his seat. He picked at one of the sandwiches in front of him, his laughter having died down.

Alicia nodded in understanding. "Neither do I, hon," she chimed in, resting her chin in her hands. "I don't even have anyone I'd be hoping to ask me."

Lee perked up considerably at this, gazing at the girl with newfound confidence. "So, like, you wouldn't be completely opposed to the idea of dancing with me, would you? As friends?"

Alicia almost seemed startled by the offer, though smiled appreciatively at the boy. "Actually, I wouldn't," she admitted, setting her hands on the table. "So is this you asking me to the ball?"

Lee shrugged casually, but the grin on his face was shining. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Alicia smiled. "Then I accept."

"Woo!" Angelina cheered, clapping enthusiastically. "First one to get a date, that's my girl!"

Fred raised an eyebrow at Lee, but was just as supportive of the two. "Didn't think you'd be the first of the boys, Jordan, I'm impressed," he admitted with a grin.

Lee fist-bumped the redhead triumphantly. "Beat that, Weasleys."

"Oh, I will," Fred assured him with a wink.

George nudged Albany curiously. "I'd say you're gonna be popular with the Slytherin boys," he remarked.

Albany groaned. "I've already been asked twice," she whined. "And not just Slytherins!"

George seemed a little alarmed by this, his hazel eyes widening just a fraction before he regained composure. "Oh? Have you said yes?"

Albany shook her head violently at the notion. "Of course not! I don't want to go with just anyone..." she mumbled.

"Me too," Carly chimed in, and frowned, her glasses sliding down her nose. "But I do not think any Beauxbatons students will ask me."

"You don't have to have a date, I'm sure," Fred assured the curly-haired girl. "There'll probably be loads of people going alone. Can't imagine Ickle Ronniekins will nab a girl."

George snickered at the thought. "Yeah, Carly, you've definitely got a better chance at a date than he does."

Albany shrugged, raising her eyebrows at the twins. "I don't know, I saw himself and Harry talking earlier. Looked like they were planning something."

Fred and George exchanged glances.

"No way he gets a date before we do," Fred stated firmly.

"Better get a move on," Albany teased, grinning at them.

"Nah, we'll be fine," George said, smiling — though whether he was assuring Albany or himself, she wasn't sure. "What have we got to worry about?"