Ferreole LeBeau was a man who believed in dressing for the occasion. And the education of young, brightly eager magical minds was always an occasion. He was in particularly rare form today, foregoing his usual billowing robes for an outfit more suited to showing his fabulous legs (well, 'leg', rather). A billowing silver tunic with sweeping sleeves ending in lacy ruffles was tucked neatly into a truly appalling pair of pumpkin pants, purple with silver and gold stripes, ballooning out from his hips to end neatly above the knee, revealing the stump of his left leg, and the ornate, shifting engravements on the wood that replaced the missing limb, and one very knobbly, hairy, skinny, and wrinkly leg, ending in a bright, purple-pink shoe.

Several instruments floated lazily through the air, circling high above the students and plucking out a pretty waltz and occasionally adjusting the tempo in response to Ferreole's muttering and waving of his cane. Music was its own magic, a strange and elusive bit of prettiness men and maid were as much subject to as sparks from a wand. Some of the students, no doubt, would take to it like water, feel that unknown hum in their feet that sang the beat to them, while others would be deaf to it, forced to depend on the mercy of their partners and a great deal of Madame Nagde's bruise balm for their battered feet later in the evening.

As the students entered, Ferreole seemed entirely oblivious to them, dark eyes locked on the instruments, peg leg tapping quietly to their tune, unresponsive to anyone who attempted to address him, until , on some unknown signal, he whirled to face them all. "Line up!"The order boomed well above the chatter in a demanding bark emphasized by a bang of his cane.

 "Two rows, either side. Jou can lead or jou can follow, don't matter, but jou gon' need to pick." He barked, whirling on his peg leg, raising his cane into the air and a stream of purple sparks poured from the end to mark the left line. "LEADS." He tossed it to his other hand, and sparks of gold did the same for the right. "FOLLOWS."

He brought the stick down with a bang and stomped through the crowds of students, prodding them to one side or the other, paying little attention to whether they were male or female—such things mattered very little to LeBeau, who figured if a lass wanted to lead and a lad wanted to follow, power to 'em. "Mind jou posture, jou," His cane tapped more than one back, and he found his way at last to the ends of the lines. "Don't stand dere like twitterpatted nifflers—say hello, how-do-jou-do! Manage a bow or curtsy proper, now! Get to it!"

1.

Source

Warren stood in the line that was designated for those leading. He was taken aback by the American Headmaster's abrasive disposition, but he did not find it entirely to his disliking. Dance was something Warren new a little about, having gone to functions with his parents and grandfather before. He was by no means though, a master of the dance. LeBeau's demeanor gave him confidence that the Headmaster would be hands on in his approach to instruction. Warren always fancied that he learned better when the instructor had a forceful hand. He couldn't help but eye up the old man though. His eyes especially took in the detail of the man's exquisite wooden leg. The rest of LeBeau's outfit he found to be entirely ostentatious, but he couldn't help but admire the way the man pulled it all off.

Warren wasn't dressed all that shabby himself. Though he lacked the flare of the American. He wore a black linen shirt with a rigid upturned collar, paired with a matching black tail coat and trousers. Around his neck he wore a cravat of dark hunter green that paid compliments to his own seafoam colored eyes. Flung over a chair somewhere in the room was the sable fur lined dress robe that he had brought as well, a ridiculous stove pipe top hat also sat with the robe. The Slytherin felt a little uncomfortable all dressed up as he was, but was used to it enough from the aforementioned functions he'd attended in the past to not be too worried. He also figured that his formal wear was of a high enough standard that he wouldn't catch any flack for being 'too' dressed up for dancing lessons.

Warren had been lost in his thoughts when he felt the cane prod him in the back. He jerked a little straighter to avoid the wrath of a full caning, and listened intently to LeBeau as he ordered more commands. Without even noticing who he was paired with Warren dropped into a deep bow at the waist.

"How are you this evening?" Warren asked politely, peaking up from his bowed position to see who it was that he had lined up across from.

Minerva strode casually into the room, enchanted with more than just the mere confines of magic. Emotions were more powerful than any spell or potion, and music was a raw conduit for feeling. There was nothing in the world that made one feel as real, or as alive, as one felt when dancing. Two bodies entwined in movements so graceful and wondrous that neither could perform on their own. It brought forth a sense of connectedness, of oneness.

That’s why, when Salem’s headmaster enquired about dance lessons, Minerva gladly jumped at the opportunity to assist. Things had changed from the last ball, that much was obvious, but Minerva felt that the integration of houses and schools could be exactly what was needed to help diffuse the tension between the groups following the results of the second task. The job of teaching dance usually fell upon the heads of houses, and indeed, they’d be asked to refine the techniques of their students. As far as the initial learning went, it was simply easier to throw a couple years together and let the gruff old American deal with them.

Minerva took a slightly more gentle approach, walking down the line opposite Headmaster LeBeau. “Parkley, bend at the waist, keep your back straight,” She chastised, pointing out an errant Gryffindor. “Be polite,” She called out over the din, once the booming voice of the Cajun subsided, “Dancing is about more than just fancy twirling and twittering about the room. It’s important to show proper etiquette in these situations. Offense is never meant and easily achieved,” 

Teagan was ecstatic to be taking dance classes.  She had always loved dancing and for as long as she could remember, she would spend a lot of time twirling around happily to the Irish music often blaring in her house.  She had arrived to class with her simple, green dress that Chloe had said looked so good on her.  She picked that one mostly because she loved the way it flowed around her when she swayed and took a lot of pleasure in watching it move like waves as she danced. 

She found herself in the line of "followers", which she had hoped.  Her partner was a handsome Slytherin boy whom she had been crushing on for years - but whom she had no doubt did not know her name.  Warren.  She smiled shyly at him when he bowed to her.  She curtsied back as gracefully and sweetly as she could muster, answering: "I'm great and yourself?"  Raising her eyes timidly to glance at the boy, she smiled, adding: "I love dancing and Lebeau seems like an excellent teacher, don't you think?" 

She winced as the Professor's cane snapped on Warren's back and then couldn't help but giggle at the Professor's harsh methods.  She didn't doubt that she would get the cane a few times herself tonight.  Placing her hands gently around Warren's waist and on his shoulder, she smiled happily in anticipation of dancing with her crush.

When Warren looked up he couldn't help but grin. He tried to stay more straight faced, not wanting to seem overtly pleased with his luck on a dancing partner. His eyes trailed over the length of Teagan's vivid green dress, and he couldn't help but notice how nice it went with her dark brown tresses. He reached back and rubbed his back a little where the cane had struck when he stood up. He touched the spot more out being incredulous that he actually got whacked, than out of any real pain.

"I'm doing quite well this evening. Even better now that I see who I've been pared with," Warren chuckled while stepping closer to his partner, "Headmaster LeBeau's predilection for the more severe ways of teaching, not that I know him particularly well or anything, give me great faith in everyone stepping out of here tonight either able to waltz or dead."

Warren smiled down at Teagan, he was thankful for being blessed with average height less he look like a giant next to his much shorter partner. He wasn't positive if LeBeau and McGonagall were teaching a regular waltz. He couldn't think of what else they would be teaching, but he wasn't eager to rush ahead of LeBeau and risk his cane. He reached out slowly and put one large hand on her side gently, he let his other arm hang loosely while he awaited further instruction.

"You look very elegant tonight. I must say I'm a big fan of the green. I like it a lot more than the bumblebee colors of your house. No offence or anything," said the Slytherin boy.

Gigi wasn't too interested in the dance lessons. Well, she wanted to make sure she could almost step on her dance partner's toes if needed, rather than right on them. Particularly if she dragged Schlangendork off for a dance just to bug him. But the Yule Ball was for sneaking alcohol and teasing Tappy just enough in her opinion, not for dancing.

She ducked a little as the cane tapped against her back, and made her way towards the lead line with a grin. It seemed that the posers were dressing up already to show off. Cause that really mattered. She rolled her eyes as she looked across the room and made a come hither motion to the followers.

This could be fun. Though the Headmistress popping up made that harder. Had to behave a little, and hey, she didn't want to get caned again. It was already starting to sting.

Teagan smiled happily in surprise, not expecting Warren to be so glad she was his dance partner.  The majority of the time, she was so shy around the opposite sex that it never occurred to her that anyone might be interested in her.  Inside, at that instant, Teagan was more merry than her smile could express.   "I'm delighted to be your dance partner too, Warren."  She blushed, wondering if it showed just how much she was delighted.

Teagan giggled gayly at Warren's comment about the dance instructor.  She could only nodd her head in agreement.  "Yes!  But we're a tough pair, I'm confident we'll dance our way out of here alive," she jested.  She giggled some more as she glanced at Lebeau, hitting his cane on some more students and barking more commands.  "I like him!" she exclaimed, giggling some more.

As Warren placed his hand gently at her side, Teagan had to hold her breath.  Her heart fluttered excitedly and she was sure her cheeks were flushing again.  She smiled at her dance partner, pretending her best to act non-chalant.  When he complimented her dress, she looked up to him again in surprise.  "Oh! Thank you so much!"  While the instructor looked away, she took a moment to twirl in her green dress.  "I like it too!  It's my favorite color actually.  I'm not a huge fan of yellow either," she admitted to him, sticking out her tongue in pretend disgust. 

Teagan took a deep breath before finding the courage to compliment Warren too.  "You are looking particularly dashing yourself, Warren," she said sweetly, smiling at him.  "We are a cute pair, aren't we?" she said playfully.       

 
 

Warren took notice of Teagan blushing. He tried to think back to another time he had made a girl blush. After coming up empty on that he decided he'd have to make note of the occurrence in a journal, or perhaps get the date tattooed somewhere on his person. He followed Teagan's dark brown eyes, and found himself wincing when he watched LeBeau's cane correct another student's posture.

"I'm not sure Heracles would be tough enough for this labour. I like him as well, his cane has even taken a liking to me. I'm sure the man himself will follow suit soon enough."

Warren watched as Teagan twirled and showed off her dress. He again could only draw a blank when thinking of a time a girl twirled in front of him for any reason. His resolve was tested but he was sure he managed to fight away any blushing or dropped jaw. He did his best to play it cool and nodded his head in admiration for the way the fabric moved.

"Green is my favorite color as well. It's very serendipitous that we've been paired."

Warren felt warmth sneak onto his cheeks when Teagan complimented him. He had finally lost the battle. He did however manage to keep himself from grinning stupidly. Instead he gave her a half bow with a little bit of arm flourish.

"Thank you very much. I'm glad you approve. I think that I'm inclined to agree that we do indeed make an excellent pair."

Teagan's eyes seemed to sparkle in the light of the room as Warren suggested they made a good pair.  Her heart fluttered and she felt slightly woozy as she eyed Warren sweetly, shyly, and with an unintentionally seductive smile.  That was as close as a love declaration Teagan had ever received and, despite the mundane nature of Warren's comment, she thought she detected something soft and gentle about his tone that suggested he might like her too.   

"I think we make a lovely pair too," she said softly, leaning closer to Warren so that he may hear her timid reply.  She longed to dance with him already, to flutter happily across the floor with the boy; but the instructions hadn't come yet and she didn't want to be responsible for Warren getting hit by the cane again.  Despite her shyness, it seemed so natural to be standing there beside him, as if they had been good friends for a long time already.   

In the silence that followed, Teagan suddenly wondered if she should ask him to the Yule Ball.  She hadn't found a date yet, not that she had exactly been looking.  Teagan was normally way too afraid of rejection to ever approach a guy.  However, as the minutes passed with Teagan and Warren together, she felt as if she could be herself with him.  "Maybe..maybe if we are such a good pair, we could dance together again some other time?" she suggested shyly, becoming strawberry-colored again.  She giggled at her own shyness, then added, as if in hopes to distract Warren from her previous comment, "I can't wait for the instructions so we can start dancing together."   

Warren was almost positive that Teagan was hinting that either he should ask her to the Yule Ball, or that she would ask him. It was either that or she meant literally that they should dance together another time. Possibly at the Ball, but potentially not as each other's date. He mulled the situation over in his head while smiling blankly back at Teagan.

"I can't wait to start dancing with you as well," he said at last, "I hope we don't learn something awful from the experience. Like that I step on toes when I dance, or that I have the rhythm of a grub worm baking in the sun."

Warren decided that it was probably best to approach the subject of the Yule Ball in a tentative manner. He wasn't sure why it was so difficult to ask Teagan to the Ball, especially when she seemed to like him as well. He was only sure that it was indeed difficult. He tried to work his face into a what he was sure was a handsome sort of smile,.

"I would like to dance with you again some other time. I'd also like to dance with you this time too once everything gets started," Warren smirked, "Out of curiosity, do you have plans for the Yule Ball. Other than attending it obviously. Are you going with anyone is what I'm trying to say."