A Game of Cat and Mouse

S I X

"No, no, no," Elio called as her white dress disappeared behind the bushes. He quickly took after her, cursing the stupid dress shoes and the way they kept getting caught on the vines on the ground. "Mia topolina, no. Don't leave. I'm sorry for kissing you; I won't do it again. Just don't go. Please."

He watched as she ran up the steps before turning around, her dark eyes looking magnificent behind the white mask—the stupid mask that he should have ripped off so he could fully see her face. "I'm sorry," she whispered before apparating.

"NO!" He cried, sprinting to grab on to her but it was too late. She was gone and he was still standing there, arms reaching toward her as if they could bring her back.

Elio ran both of his hands through his hair, resting them while he kicked the ground in frustration. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He didn't even notice the way his mind switched to Italian. "Cazzo!" he growled into the empty garden.

Was it the kiss? Did he misread the eyes she was giving him, the moment they were having? No, she seemed blissfully happy—just as he was—once he pulled away. There was a flicker in her eyes for a brief second before she was running and he was left alone, the girl he was falling for gone like she hadn't given him the best night of his life.

"Think, Elio, think." What did he know about her? She had both of her parents and an older brother. She was terrified of crowds, hadn't gone out much before tonight, and had probably never been to one of these dances. She played the pianoforte "quite well" and he knew her humility well enough to know by now that that meant she was absolutely brilliant on it. She wasn't one for being out of doors and enjoyed stuffed animals. None of that seemed to be particularly helpful. No, there had to be more.

Okay, she had to be a pureblood, he reasoned. Only purebloods were invited to these things but her apparent isolation meant that she probably didn't know many others here. Though, as he thought back on their conversation, he realized she seemed to know who Astoria and Scorpius were when he mentioned them—her confusion seemed more centered on his relationship with them.

Bingo.

Elio was already striding through the door, making his way to where his friend still stood by the punchbowl. "Oy!" he called out, drawing the eye of not just Scorpius but everyone else in the vicinity as well. "A word?"

Scorpius's eyes narrowed as he tried to work out what was going on but Elio just ignored it and led them to a private hallway with a confident gait. "Dude, what's this about?" Scorpius said as soon as they were alone. "I have a date with some firewhisky."

"Who was I dancing with out there?" Elio asked quickly.

"What? You were dancing with someone?"

Elio rubbed his hand on his forehead. It was clear the Scorpius wasn't going to be any help. "You're killing me, mate."

"Sorry. I've been nursing the punch all night," he said with a wry grin. "Can't have a hangover after drinking if there is no after."

Normally, Elio would have laughed and agreed with him before grabbing a glass of punch himself. But now, the last thing he honestly wanted was to get drunk. Being inebriated wasn't going to help him find her.

"You didn't get her name?" Scorpius asked, taking another swig from the glass of red punch he was holding. His eyes were rimmed with a matching color.

Elio shook his head. "No. We danced and then we went outside and had the best fucking kiss of my life before she got scared and ran."

"Must have been a terrible kiss." Elio just scowled, not in the mood to joke around when his heart was still racing. Scorpius's face soured at his friend's lack of humor. "Sorry, man. My mum would know, though. She curated the guest list herself."