A hush fell over the Great Hall as Michel, a vision in emerald green, stopped before Professor Snape, who sat beside Professor Minerva, his face a mask of stoic indifference. Her emerald green gown, a shimmering cascade of silk, seemed to glow in the soft light of the chandeliers, a stark contrast to the dark elegance of Snape's attire.
Michel, with a confidence that surprised even herself, extended her hand towards Snape, a silent invitation to dance. Snape, bound by the unwritten rules of the ball, could not refuse. He hesitantly took her hand. He led her to the center of the dance floor, the space cleared for them, their movements the focal point of everyone's attention.
"What are you doing?" Snape whispered, his voice a low rumble against her ear as he placed his hand on her waist, his touch both possessive and protective.
"Telling them that you're not a loser," Michel replied emphatically, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Do you know how to dance?"
"You discover for yourself," Snape answered, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. The music, a slow, haunting melody, filled the hall, its enchanted rhythm weaving a spell of magic around them. The dancers, mesmerized by the spectacle unfolding before them, stood frozen, their movements stilled, their eyes glued to the couple at the center of the dance floor.
Their bodies moved in a graceful, fluid rhythm, their gazes locked, as if oblivious to the world around them. They slowly stepped back, bowing to each other, their movements a silent conversation of unspoken desires. Their bodies came together again, barely an inch apart, their breaths mingling in the air.
Snape's right hand moved to her back, supporting her as he dipped her, his left hand holding her right, their fingers intertwined, their touch a silent promise. Michel's body bent, her head tilted back, her eyes meeting his, a spark of defiance in their depths. As the music swelled, Snape released her hand, his hands moving to her waist, lifting her, spinning her in the air. Michel, her arms outstretched, felt the rush of air against her skin, a sensation both exhilarating and terrifying.
Snape lowered her, his hands moving to her waist, his touch possessive, his gaze intense. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice a husky whisper. "Take full responsibility for what you did to me. You showed up like a goddess and seduced me - can't wait to have you tonight." His words, laced with desire, sent a blush creeping up her cheeks.
The music picked up, its tempo quickening, its rhythm more urgent. Snape, his eyes blazing with passion, forcefully released Michel, guiding her to spin away from him. She moved instinctively, her body responding to his lead, the dance a whirlwind of passion and control.
Snape extended his palm, and Michel, her heart pounding in her chest, placed her hand in his. He guided her to turn, her hands landing on his chest, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles. Their gazes met, a silent conversation of longing and desire. Michel gasped, a shiver running down her spine as his warm breath brushed against her cheek.
The ecstasy of emotions, the intoxicating mixture of desire and danger, sent her heart racing. She couldn't resist the urge to caress his cheek, her fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw. Their faces drew closer, a mere inch apart, their breaths mingling, their desires colliding. Snape, his control slipping, lifted her again, lowering her gently to the other side.
"Not here," he whispered huskily, his voice thick with desire. Michel nodded, her wrist resting on his forearm, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music.
Snape's eyes widened as a few strands of Michel's hair turned white gold, a shimmering beacon of power. They couldn't stop, not with so many eyes watching them, not with the music still playing. The uncontrolled release of her power, a force she couldn't contain, added a touch of magic to their dance, a spectacle that captivated their audience.
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His Midnight Apprentice
Fanfiction"Who Will Save the Savior?" Severus Snape devoted his life to saving others, even when it meant being hated and reviled by the very people he protected. He died believing he was despised, and branded as a traitor to Dumbledore. But what if, at the l...
