The Black Queen | F. Weasley

41. Rumour has it...

"Who had to dance with Snape?" Salem smirked as she plonked down next to Cassius who threw an arm over her shoulder lazily.

"No one, sadly. I was hoping to see Maggie dance with the man, but Snape was being Snape once more," he replied with a sigh.

Maggie scowled grom beside him and flicked him over the head. "You prick!"

"I bet you two would've made the most beautiful couple to ever exist," she teased Maggie. The latter glared daggers at her and flipped Salem the bird. "But if he didn't dance with anyone then what was taking you guys so long?"

"You would be taking that long as well if your Head of House threw a book called 'Ball Dancing for Dummy's' in the middle of the room and then just strode out. We had to help out all the others who had difficulties with dancing." Graham grumbled and massaged his foot slightly. "Pansy Parkinson kept stomping on my foot, it's a miracle that my toes aren't broken."

Salem felt Cassius' chest vibrate with laughter as the boy recalled the memory. She tried her best to come across as emphatic as she squeezed Graham's hand comfortingly, but the broad grin on her face told him otherwise.

"Did you hear that the champions have to open the ball with the first dance?" Cassius asked suddenly.

Her head snapped to his and Salem's eyes widened in horror. "Excuse me?"

A grin tugged at the corners of Cassius' lips at her expression and he shrugged casually. "Snape said so, the champions have to open the ball."

"That's about the only thing he did," Graham sneered as he stabbed egg onto his fork with a bit more force than necessary.

"Merlin's saggy left tit, whoever came up with that idea?! It's bad enough as it is that I'll most likely make a fool of myself, but now in front of everyone as well?" She exclaimed and glowered at her friends as they laughed in amusement.

"Sal, what's your surname?" Adrian asked her out of the blue.

She regarded him with a confused look– he knew what her last name was... "Adrian, wha–"

He shushed her with a smile. "Just answer the question."

"Black, my surname is Black."

"You won't be making a fool of yourself, because you're a Black. It's as simple as that."

The others nodded in agreement, but it only left Salem with more questions instead of putting her nerves at ease.

"You're a pureblood, Salem," Adrian therefore stated and he pointed at her with his fork in emphasis. She scrunched up her nose at the term and still wasn't enlightened in the slightest. "Throughout centuries the pureblood families have organised balls to find potential spouses for their children. The House of Black is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and therefore attended all those balls. My mother loves to mention how well the Black family was able to dance, especially your father... It's in your blood, Sal, you've got nothing to worry about."

"I don't want to be a spoilsport, Adrian...but my father had years of practice, not to mention my grandmother who constantly nagged on about good posture and such. I wasn't raised that way, I've never been to a ball before."

Sarah smiled slyly from several seats down. "You could always ask Weasley to practice with you..."

Salem poked her tongue out at her friend earning herself a grin of amusement in return. She quickly turned to Miles, trying to change the topic casually. "Do you have any news for me, Miles?"

The boy in question swallowed down his dinner and held up a finger, silently telling her to have a bit of patience. He took a swig of his pumpkin juice and then looked at Salem with eyes that were sparkling with mischief. "Well, as a matter of fact, I do..."