Shadow of Legacy

June Ball

The Great Hall had been transformed, bathed in warm, flickering candlelight that danced off the walls like fireflies. The ceiling, once dark and star-filled, now shimmered with an enchanting reflection of summer skies, painted with hints of pink and lavender, and clouds that drifted lazily overhead. The air was thick with the scent of roses, mingling with the subtle fragrance of perfume and freshly baked pastries that filled the room. It was finally the night of the June Ball.

As the students filled the hall, laughter and chatter floated in the air, the sound of shoes tapping against the polished floor mixing with the soft strains of music from the enchanted orchestra. It felt like a dream, almost too beautiful to be real. The soft, rhythmic hum of the crowd was a comforting buzz in my ears. I had promised Ron I'd go with him, and despite the whirlwind of emotions that still clung to me, I couldn't bring myself to back out. After all, the evening was meant to be a celebration of life—a life I was slowly learning to reclaim. Ron was his usual self—boisterous, eager, and a little bit too excited to have me by his side. He looked dashing in his dress robes, his freckles standing out against his pale skin as he kept his eyes on me, beaming with that familiar grin.
"You look amazing, Alvira," Ron said, his voice full of admiration, as he offered me his arm. "Absolutely stunning."

I smiled back at him, thankful for the distraction. "Thanks, Ron. You don't look so bad yourself."

Together, we made our way into the throng of students already enjoying the evening. The music swirled around us, drawing us toward the dance floor. As we reached it, I found myself swept into the rhythm, Ron's enthusiasm carrying us through the steps, though it was clear he was more interested in having fun than following the actual choreography. He was, as usual, all elbows and feet, but somehow, we managed to make it work. Every misstep was followed by a burst of laughter, and I let myself enjoy it for a while, basking in the simplicity of it all.
"Just don't step on my feet," I warned, smiling as he spun me, only to almost trip over his own.
"I make no promises!" Ron laughed, his grip on my hand tightening as he pulled me into another twirl.

Around us, the students were lost in their own celebrations—some groups were laughing over bowls of punch, others were gossiping in hushed tones, and the more daring students had already made their way to the quieter corners of the room. Everywhere I looked, there were moments of joy and youthful energy, so free and unburdened. It was beautiful, and yet it made me feel like an outsider, as though I didn't belong in the middle of it all.

Still, I clung to the moment, letting the music guide me as I swayed along with Ron, who was still grinning like he'd just won the Quidditch Cup. And yet, despite my attempts to enjoy myself, there was an undercurrent of tension I couldn't ignore. Every now and then, my eyes would drift, as if drawn by some invisible pull, and I would find him—Severus Snape—standing off to the side, just outside the throng of students. He was always watching, always observing. His black robes seemed to swallow him whole, and despite the laughter and chatter around him, there was a stillness to his presence that stood in stark contrast to the rest of the room. His eyes, dark and intense, never strayed too far from me, and every time they met mine, there was a strange charge in the air, an unspoken tension that made my chest tighten. It was unsettling, and though I tried to ignore it, his gaze always found me, no matter where I went.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, his voice cutting through my thoughts as I felt another pair of eyes on me.

I blinked, looking up at him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just—just a little distracted."

Ron gave me a bemused look but didn't press. Instead, he pulled me into another spin, his laughter ringing out as I tried to focus on the dance again. Still, every so often, I would feel that unsettling weight on my shoulders, and when I glanced up, there he was again—Snape, watching from the shadows. His expression, as always, was unreadable, but there was something in the way his eyes lingered on me this time—something sharper, more possessive , and for a fleeting moment, I wondered if I had imagined the flicker of something darker in his gaze. But then he quickly looked away, as though to erase the moment.

I was sure I was imagining it. Snape wasn't the type to care about anything or anyone that wasn't his business. And yet... the tension remained.

After a few more dances, I found myself feeling increasingly dizzy—not just from the wine that had been flowing a bit too freely, but from the weight of the evening itself. The air felt thick, and my head was beginning to spin. I needed a break—needed some space to clear my head.

"I'll be right back, Ron," I said, smiling at him and giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "I just need a little fresh air."

Ron looked at me for a moment, concern flashing across his face, but he didn't argue. "Alright, but don't be gone too long, okay?"

"I won't," I promised.

Slipping through the crowd, I made my way to the large doors that led to the courtyard. The cool night air hit me as I stepped outside, and I leaned against the stone wall, closing my eyes for a moment to steady myself. The music from the hall faded into the distance, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to breathe, to think clearly again.

But then, I heard footsteps approaching—slow, deliberate, and unmistakable. I turned, my pulse quickening, to find Severus Snape standing in the courtyard, just a few feet away from me. His black robes seemed to blend with the night, but his presence was undeniable. His sharp gaze met mine, and for a long moment, neither of us spoke. The tension between us hung thick in the air.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," Snape said, his voice low, though not as harsh as I expected.

"I needed a break," I replied, trying to keep my tone light, though I could feel the buzz of the evening still dancing in my veins. "Just some fresh air."He nodded, but his eyes narrowed slightly, as though scrutinizing me. "You've had a bit too much to drink."

I blinked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I'm fine," I said quickly, though my head was still spinning a bit.

Snape's gaze softened for a fraction of a second, just long enough for me to catch it. "Don't fool yourself. You don't have to pretend."

The unexpected gentleness in his voice caught me off guard, and I found myself unable to respond right away. Instead, I just looked at him, trying to make sense of the words he had spoken. There was something different about him tonight, something that wasn't quite so cold, though his usual sharp edges were still there.

"I'm not pretending," I said softly, my voice quieter than I intended. "I just needed to catch my breath."

He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then, with a slight nod, he seemed to accept my answer. "Then... be careful. Don't let it all consume you."

I looked up at him, unsure of how to respond to that. The weight of his words lingered in the air, and though he had already turned to leave, there was a brief moment when I thought I saw something—something human—flicker in his eyes. As he disappeared back into the shadows of the hallway, I stayed where I was, leaning against the stone wall, feeling a strange warmth spread through me. Maybe it was just the wine, or maybe it was something else, but for a fleeting moment, I felt a glimmer of something—a hope, however small—that perhaps, in some way, I wasn't as alone as I thought. And with that, I returned to the ball, my heart a little lighter, though I couldn't help but wonder what had just passed between us. A moment of vulnerability, a flicker of something more? Perhaps it was all in my head—but somehow, the idea that Snape cared, even just a little, gave me something to hold on to.

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(The dress ;) )