Genetics • Sirius Black

Chapter Forty Two: Pure As They Come.

It was beautiful while it lasted and painful to watch it burn. Note to self: buy new shoes. 

Two friends twirled over the dark stone floor. A prince, heir to one of the wealthiest families in the Wizarding World, and a witch, daughter to no one and born of nothing. Light bounced off of his pale skin, the smallest hint of rosiness in his cheeks, and a dash of blue lurked in the shadows of his hair. Shadows hid her gaze as her chin tilted down, her curly hair had been tamed into a sleek ponytail that landed well past her shoulders, and her dress moved like dark water, deep blue silk reflecting their every movement.

"One, two, three..." Regulus Black counted allowed, one hand resting on her waist, the other gently holding hers. But, his perfect posture was diminished as her heel stepped firmly onto his leather shoe. A yelp of pain left his mouth and she pulled away from him, brows furrowed with concern. Gritting his teeth, he rubbed his toes through his shoes. "Let's hope Barty's invested in metal-tipped shoes." Plopping on his bed, he seemed fairly finished with his dance lesson and she joined him. Her hand beckoned his foot and he begrudgingly complied. "It's bad form to dump your date for someone else, then force them to teach you how to dance." She undid his laces and took off his shoes and then socks. "You already know to waltz, I doubt he plans on pulling out the tango."

"Do you know tango?"

"Freya."

"I know how to dance with you, but not with other people." She replied, her eyes inspecting his toes for damage, then when she contended that there was nothing wrong (other than that he had an absurdly long second toe), she stood up. "I have gotten used to you."

"What's wrong with that?" He questioned, partly insecure as he put back on his foot ware. They were best friends, should they not have been used to each other?

Shaking her head, she paced in front of him. "It has sheltered me." Barely, he raised a brow finding no problem where she saw potential for catastrophe. Then, she stopped her pacing. "You think Sev knows how to dance?"

Regs looked at her. "It would be rude of me to answer honestly."

Just as he spoke, the door to his dorm bathroom swung open and Severus Snape walked out. He held two ends of a tie around his neck and walked to Freya. Without speaking, her hands moved smoothly around the fabric, but he seemed flustered. A sweat was working onto his brow and his shirt felt too tight. "Maybe I shouldn't go."

"You will be fine, Sev." Regs replied slouching onto his luscious bed. Not many wanted to be a Slytherin, and less wanted to bunk with the Black heir, so they had not filled all the dorms they had leaving Regulus with only one roommate, Robert DeLuca, a dark-haired boy that always stank of smoke and cannabis, currently busy staring at the stars in the yard. Freya had also lucked up in her room, only having two roommates, and in a way, Severus did as well because he was paired with people who found the smell of potions sickening and his late-night reading annoying to the point they requested other rooms. "And if anything goes wrong, there's always a dessert table."

"Slughorn does have good taste," Freya added.

Sev chewed on the inside of his cheek. "What if Sabrina wants to talk?"

"Dates often want to do that." Freya reasoned, her gaze focused on her work. "Just be respectable."

"I don't... know how to... talk to girls." The sallow boy admitted, looking very nervous. Truly, this has never been a problem that came up until now. His eyes had been focused on one girl and one girl only, and since she asked Remus bloody Lupin instead, he panicked.

"You're talking just fine to one right now." Regs pointed out.

"She doesn't count." Sev dismissed, and Freya stopped her work.