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49: Dance Dance Dance

The garden was a welcome escape from the grandeur and suffocating noise of the ballroom. The faint scent of blooming flowers mixed with the cool night air, and the distant murmur of music barely reached this space.

Adrian stood a little ways from Natasha, shuffling awkwardly on the stone-paved ground. Well, didn't think I'd do this, but here we are.

“Let’s start with the basics, just follow my movements and listen to what I say." Natasha said.

Adrian nodded and took a small breath. "Got it."

Natasha stepped closer and extended her hand toward him. “Give me your hand, Adrian."

Adrian hesitated before placing his hand in hers, his palm slightly damp. "Okay, what now?"

“Relax,” Natasha said, her grip firm but not unkind. She positioned his other hand lightly on her waist, then adjusted the angle of her own hand resting on his shoulder. Her posture was perfect, poised like a sculpture carved for the ballroom. Adrian, by contrast, felt incredibly stiff.

“First step. Always lead with your left foot. It’s not difficult. Watch me.” Natasha demonstrated a simple forward step. Adrian mirrored her hesitantly with his own best attempt at footwork.

“Not bad,” she said, though the slight arch of her brow suggested otherwise. “But try not to stomp like you’re squashing spiders. Use some finesse, Adrian."

Finesse, right. Easy for her to say. Adrian adjusted his footing, determined to prove he could manage something as simple as walking in time. The stone pavement beneath his boots was a poor match for intricate dances, but Natasha’s steady guidance helped him improve over the next minutes of practice.

“Better,” she finally said. “Now, the next step, backward with your right. Like this.” She guided him again, moving with such precision that Adrian felt clumsy by comparison. Her movements were effortless, but he stumbled slightly as his heel caught on the edge of a stone.

“Careful,” Natasha said, steadying him with a subtle shift of her weight. “Keep your balance. It’s all about control.”

Control. Got it. Adrian focused on his footing, willing his legs to obey. After a few more tries, the pattern started to sink in: forward with the left, backward with the right.

“That’s it, you’re getting the hang of it.”

"Really? It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Trust me, you’re not as hopeless as I thought you’d be.”

"I… thanks?"

They moved slowly at first, with Natasha leading him through basic steps until his body started to understand the rhythm. She corrected him when he drifted offbeat or moved too stiffly.

“Loosen your shoulders,” she said, giving his arm a slight push.

Adrian exhaled and tried to relax, though the closeness between them made it difficult to focus. "Believe me, I'm trying."

“Don’t overthink it, dancing isn’t about perfection, just trust your movements more."

Her words resonated in a way Adrian didn’t expect. He adjusted his stance, paying more attention to her movements and less to his own self-consciousness. Gradually, their steps began to synchronize. The clumsiness of his earlier attempts faded, replaced by a tentative but growing confidence.

“See? Much better now."

“That’s high praise coming from you,” Adrian muttered, earning a quiet laugh from her.

As they continued, the distant strains of music from the ballroom provided an unintentional backdrop to their practice. The rhythm was faster now, more complex, but Adrian managed to keep pace. Finally getting the hang of this.

“Not bad,” Natasha said as they came to a stop. She stepped back, releasing his hand and giving him an appraising look. “You’ll pass for a half-decent dancer. If anyone asks, I’ll take full credit.”

Adrian exhaled, feeling the tension drain from his shoulders. “Just hope that it's good enough for the main event."

Suddenly, a figure approached from the edge of the stone path, drawing their attention. A butler in impeccable livery stopped a respectful distance away and inclined his head. “Miss Natasha, sir, the opening dance is about to commence. Your presence is requested.”

Natasha offered him a small nod. “Thank you. We’ll be along shortly.”

AFter the butler left, Natasha turned her attention back to Adrian. Her lips curved into a faint smile. “Well, that’s our cue."

Adrian shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his sleeve. “Guess it’s showtime.”

Natasha extended her hand toward him. “Come on, let’s go.”

Adrian hesitated, looking at her hand as though it were an alien object. “Uh... what?”

Natasha exhaled sharply. Without waiting for his cooperation, she stepped forward and took hold of his arm, slipping her fingers around his elbow to link them together. “If we’re going to dance, we need to look the part, Now come on.”

Adrian let out a quiet chuckle, though it carried the edge of his nerves. “Right. That's my bad."

The two moved toward the ballroom, where the serene ambience of the garden gradually gave way to the muted hum of life inside. When they stepped closer, the delicate strains of violins and cellos drifted throughout the area. This is it. No turning back now.

A crowd had gathered near the edges of the ballroom, leaving the polished dance floor in the center clear and gleaming. Adrian felt the weight of countless eyes as they entered, though he tried to focus on the path ahead rather than the curious stares of the guests.

At the head of the room, a man in formal attire stood on a small dais. His voice carried effortlessly over the murmur of the crowd as he raised a hand for attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this evening’s festivities. The opening dance will now commence. Partners, please take your places.”

Natasha tilted her head toward the center of the room, guiding Adrian with a slight tug on his arm. “That’s us.”

Adrian swallowed hard, stomach tightening as they approached the dance floor. I can’t mess this up.

“Relax,” Natasha said, as if reading his mind. She positioned herself in front of him, placing his hand lightly on her waist while holding the other in hers. “Just like we practiced. Focus on me, not them.”

Adrian nodded as he steadied himself. Just dance, it'll be fine.

Soon, the orchestra began to play. Couples moved onto the floor around them, their movements fluid and synchronized. Adrian took a deep breath and matched Natasha’s first step, his mind counting the rhythm to keep himself in line.

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“One, two, three,” Natasha murmured under her breath.

Adrian matched Natasha’s movements step for step, his focus locked on her as they glided across the polished dance floor. The melody carried them along, weaving through the ballroom like a gentle current. For a moment, the tension that had been gripping him all night lifted, replaced by something unfamiliar but not unpleasant.

“You know, this isn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. I think I’m actually starting to enjoy this.” Adrian said.

Natasha’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Are you now?"

Adrian tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Wait, am I doing bad after all?”

“Not at all, you’re actually doing well. But...” She gestured slightly with her chin. “Take a look behind you.”

Adrian glanced over his shoulder, subtly shifting his gaze to the far side of the dance floor. Not far from them, was Remus. Ah, him.

The angry flush on his face stole any sense of dignity the arrogant brat may or may not have had before. He was glaring daggers at Adrian, visibly showing pure resentment. Worse, his dance partner, a girl who looked no older than Adrian, wore a tight, nervous smile, her movements stiff and uncertain under the weight of his obvious frustration.

Adrian turned back to Natasha quickly, suppressing the urge to groan. Of course. He couldn’t just let it go, could he? “Think we can move around a bit? You know, dodge him?”

Natasha arched an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. “Why? Afraid of Remus? He’s harmless.”

“Harmless? That guy looks like he’s about five seconds away from throwing his partner off the dance floor. I’d rather not be his next target.”

“Fine. Let’s keep some distance. But don’t let him get to you, Remus is always like this.”

Natasha shifted their steps slightly, guiding Adrian with an expert hand as they wove through the other couples. They moved subtly, keeping them just far enough away from Remus to avoid confrontation without drawing attention to their intent.

Once far enough the two resumed their dance. The music had slowed noticeably this time, allowing the dancers to move at a slower tempo.

“Better?” Natasha asked.

“Much,” Adrian replied. At least now I don’t have to feel his eyes boring into my back.

“On the bright side, you’re relaxing, I can feel it.”

“Guess I am. You were right, it's not as hard as I thought.”

Her smile turned triumphant. “I usually am.”

Adrian rolled his eyes but kept his focus on the steps. “You’re really milking this, aren’t you?”

“Obviously."

Over time, before Adrian realized it, the final note of the waltz drifted into silence as the dance concluded. A faint warmth lingered in his chest. That was… actually fun. Who would’ve thought?

Adrian exhaled, while a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Looks like we survived."

Natasha released his hand, though she remained close. “You held your own out there, not bad at all."

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Guess I’ll call that a win.”

“Well, that was... adequate at best.” A voice suddenly chimed in.

Adrian turned to find Remus standing behind him, His arms were crossed, and his lips twisted into a smug sneer. Adrian suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Of course.

“I think I did alright, not amazing, but not terrible either.” Adrian said with a light shrug

Remus let out a mocking laugh. “Oh, you think so, do you? Trust me, everyone in this room could see how out of your depth you were.”

Before Adrian could respond, Natasha stepped forward, placing herself squarely between the two boys. “Mind your own business, Remus.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by her directness, but he quickly recovered. “My business? Natasha, you should’ve danced with me. You know that. What were you thinking choosing him?”

“What was I thinking? That I’d rather never speak to you again. How’s that for an answer?”

The color rose in Remus’s face, and his fists clenched at his sides. “You don’t mean that,” he said, though his voice wavered slightly.

Soon, his gaze darted to Adrian, filled with an intensity that made the boy feel like he was being blamed for more than just the dance. “This is your fault,” Remus spat, pointing a finger at him. “You ruined everything.”

Adrian raised his hands in confusion. “What did I do?”

“You don’t belong here! If it weren’t for you, she would’ve danced with me, and everyone would’ve seen that we’re the perfect match.”

Adrian exchanged a glance with Natasha, who looked utterly unimpressed by Remus’s outburst. Is this guy serious? “Pretty sure Natasha made her own choice. Not sure how that’s my fault.”

“Enough of this nonsense, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, Remus. Just let it go.” Natasha said.

"She's right, you know. Just give it up man." Adrian said, sighing slightly.

Remus couldn't help but glare at him even harder. "You know what? I think we should settle this, once and for all."

"Settle what exactly?"

"I want to duel you, one on one, no interruptions. Show you your true place in the world."

"You're… not serious, right?"

Remus’s lips twisted into a mocking sneer. “Oh? Does the great Adrian not want to fight? Afraid you’ll embarrass yourself in front of everyone?”

The remark drew a few snickers from the surrounding guests, and Adrian felt the weight of their curious gazes. His patience thinned, but he forced himself to stay composed.

Natasha stepped closer, her voice low but commanding. “Don’t take the bait, Adrian. He’s not worth it.”

Adrian glanced at her and gave a small nod, his mind working through the situation. I know he’s baiting me, but... His gaze shifted back to Remus, who stood with his arms crossed, radiating smug satisfaction. I’m not letting this one slide.

“Fine. You want a duel? Then pick a venue. I’m feeling generous tonight.”

Remus’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing. “We do it here and now.”

Natasha chuckled softly, folding her arms as she took a step back. “Good luck, Adrian."

Her casual dismissal only seemed to agitate Remus further, his jaw tightening as he turned to glare at her briefly. Adrian, meanwhile, took his time, stretching while the crowd murmured excitedly, forming a loose circle around the two boys.

“So,” Adrian said, his tone casual as he stopped a few paces from Remus, “are we using weapons or—?”

“Just magic,” Remus snapped, cutting him off. He extended his hand, a small fireball sparking to life in his palm.

Adrian arched an eyebrow. “Is this really a good idea? You’ve got a lot of people around. Someone might get hurt.”

“That’s their problem!” Remus snarled as he hurled the fireball directly at Adrian.

In response, Adrian raised his hand and caught the fireball effortlessly. The flames dissipated instantly, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke curling from his fingers. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

The insult struck a nerve. Remus’s face turned red as he shouted, “You’re not getting off that easily!”

Fireballs materialized in his hands, and he hurled them in quick succession. Adrian sidestepped one, blocked another with his palm, and casually launched his own fireball to intercept a third. The clash of flames crackled in the air, drawing gasps from the crowd.

Remus’s frustration grew with every failed attack. “You’re stalling! But I’m just getting started!”

The arrogant brat inhaled deeply, causing Adrian’s eyes to narrow. Oh, great. Here comes something reckless.

Remus exhaled with a deafening roar, unleashing a searing torrent of flame that surged forward like a tidal wave of molten heat. The crowd erupted in panicked cries, scrambling backward as the inferno consumed the space between them.

Eventually, the flames faltered and then dissipated as Remus’s breath gave out, his chest heaving with the effort. His wide-eyed stare locked onto Adrian, disbelief etched into every line of his face.

From within the fading haze, Adrian emerged unharmed, the faint blue hue of his natural flames flickering protectively around him. His presence radiated an unshakable calm that silenced the murmurs of the crowd.

Adrian closed the distance between them and stopped only a few paces separated him from Remus, whose confidence had visibly begun to crumble. “You’re not the only one with a gift for fire, Remus.”

He raised his hand, and a sword forged of brilliant blue flames materialized. The blade thrummed faintly as he leveled it at Remus’s throat. “And my gift for fire magic is far more potent than yours. Quite frankly, you never had a chance."

Remus stumbled back, his bravado collapsing under the icy steel of Adrian’s gaze. His eyes darted between the glowing blade and the unwavering resolve etched into Adrian’s expression.

The crowd had grown deathly quiet as Adrian leaned in closer. “You disgust me. You’re throwing a tantrum, endangering innocent people, all because you can’t handle rejection? Pathetic."

Remus’s mouth opened, but no sound emerged. His fists trembled at his sides, and his flushed face betrayed his humiliation. The crowd’s whispers, hushed at first, swelled into a murmur that prickled at his fraying nerves.

The arrogant brat took a stumbling step back. “You’ll regret this! I swear it!”