"Some people go their whole lives without finding that out, Dolls. I'd say you're doing alright, all things considered," Tapendra said, squeezing her hand. She leaned up and kissed his temple, and even as she bumped his head with hers gently, he was automatically flushing. He looked down, before realizing what he was doing and getting himself back on track.

"I don't know if it makes us lucky or...what," he said, unsure where he'd been going with that. "But - I'm glad I know you," he said, smiling down at her and then looking out at the lights that had been arranged in the garden. It really was a lovely party, crowds and formality aside - or perhaps because of them, depending on taste. He grinned.

"And I am glad you wrote those bloody books, for the record," he added, leaning back into the bench. "Fluff though you might think them, they are a pretty enjoyable read. And, well - whatever you decide to become after this...you'll be brilliant." His grin turned to a warm smile. "I haven't seen you do anything you don't completely throw yourself into."

"Ah, normal average people may go their whole lives without figuring it out - but as you know, surely by my reputation I am a crafty genius. I really should have known better," her voice was tinted with amusement, a fuzzy sort of feeling forming in her chest as he insisted he was glad to know her, and glad for the damnable books. In the long run Dolly knew she would be too, it opened other doors for her. Once the series wrapped she could do anything she liked, now she just had to figure out what she liked that wasn't simply a means to bide time until her great love affair could begin.

"I could always take to the stage at Signature, some of those costumes offer more coverage than dresses I wear," her tone was teasing as she gave the Professor a sidelong glance. He'd seen her in her element at Signature before... but she rather doubted he would approve of it as a career choice. In some way she felt like she had to undo the damage that her first books could have inflicted on the ideas of young women, and she wanted to go on to do things that would give girls like Cy and Gigi someone to look up to - though she was sure Tappy would die if he ever found either of them reading her books.

Taking a deep breath she pushed off the bench, her hand trailing along Trishna's arm till she brushed his fingers, gently trying to tug him to his feet, "You should dance with me," her blue eyes focused down on his, lips turned up ever so slightly, "after all this is my favorite song, and it is my birthday". She leaned down a little, her her nose almost touching his, "If there are two lessons a man should learn in life it's to never tell a woman with a broken heart no, and to especially never tell her no on the single worst birthday she's had in the last twenty years," her tone cajoling as she waited for him to move.

"Haha - err..." Was Tapendra response to that suggestion, his expression a twisted mix of interest and disapproval. While the Signature stage was something he could see her doing - a bit too easily, even - it did seem rather a waste. But she was clearly joking, and so his moment of uncertainty faded quickly...only to replaced with another.

He automatically leaned backwards a bit as she leaned in, but her request was almost more worrying than any thought he was going to get made out with. Tapendra was not a good dancer - not necessarily via having two left feet (though nervousness didn't help, and tended to create that state) but simply via not knowing the steps. Or the songs, really. Or...well, much about it.

He stood up with a dry laugh. Even so, he really couldn't say no, could he? Not on terms like that, and certainly not to her.

Tapendra extended an an arm to her, his laugh short and dry. "As you wish," he said, shaking his head. "But if it's quality you're looking for in this dance, I'm afraid you'll be sorely disappointed," he smiled brightly, patting her hand. "I'm a bit of a boat on the dance floor, I'm afraid. Never really -" he gestured towards the organised floor. "Haven't done that."

Dolly lifted an eyebrow as he reclucantly stood and looked toward the tent, "Mmmyes, I'm not quite ready to face the sodding lot of them yet, adore the attention though I do," when he stood she at to tilt her head a little to look him in the eye (even though she was not a short woman and happened to be wearing heels). It wasn't just that she wasn't ready to face everyone in the tent, she also wasn't quiet ready to break the soft comfortable sort the of spell that had fallen over the two of them during their talk. She was selfish, but she wanted Tappy and the moment all to herself for a little longer. She wasn't ready to go back to the glittering and preening being "herself" required.

Guiding his hand to the small of her back she took up the other in a loose frame, "Dancing is just a conversation between two bodies. It's intuitive, you have to trust yourself and your partner," the music was low and slow, full of soul, though the words were slightly muffled it was a blues standard the author knew part heart. She hummed a little as she rested her head against Trishna's, voice soft when she finally spoke again,"lazy box waltz, think less box more circle". There was a little sigh that escaped her lips as she coaxed him in a lazy shuffle, eyes drifting closed. She was tired down to her bones, but for the first time all night she felt her muscles melt into the music.

Tapendra just followed her lead, allowing her to arrange his hands in what he assumed was the proper position. He didn't recall the hand on the waist, but bore no protest; he didn't want to think about his childhood dance lessons any more than he had to.

Thankfully it was a slow, shuffling waltz. That he could do, the steps coming to him easily; had she attempted a tango someone might have gotten hurt.

He smiled at her description, which made him think of something other than, well, dancing. "Poetic," he observed. "Though if my Governess had described it that way, I'd have run away even faster than I did back then." Aside from his early lessons, Judy had never been into dancing - or romance, really. It had made her uncomfortable and awkward. She'd tended towards the endlessly practical, and the small moments. Tapendra himself rather liked dancing - but he didn't have enough experience to be in any way good at it, and his height made him not fit most people.

He found his fingers drifting upwards on her back slightly, largely due to the height difference, and his hand fanned out automatically. He had to tilt his head slightly to look down at her. She seemed relaxed, and it was difficult to know if he should say anything or not.

Still, it was hard not to talk - it was his usual reaction to things. "It's a nice song," he said, gaze darting to the large tent, from where the music crooned. "Who is it?"

Dolly laughed a little, lazily lifting her gaze to his face, "That's me, poetic and a little tragic; the second part no one gets to see". The image of little Tapendra running from his governess (who, for some reason in Dolly's mind, was a brick house of a woman with a thick German accent) brought a little smile to the Author's lips. "Governesses are terrible dance tutors. Stern people can't dance, everyone knows that. Dancing is for those frivolous fools, like me. Oh there are steps, and you can learn them, but without just a touch of whimsy, or an equal touch of heartbreak it's just stilted movement," resting her head against his shoulder she took a deep breath, "It's like walking through Paris in the rain; it baffles practical people. I used to call them umbrella people, you know the sort, always carry the thing on the what-if chance they might get damp".

Dolly was not an umbrella person. She was the sort of person that employed people to know if she needed to worry about getting wet. She'd also ruined more expensive pairs of shoes than she cared to think about walking the soggy streets of London. She never had been very practical. When he asked after the song, Dolly just grinned into his shoulder, "Fool That I Am, it's by a delightful muggle called Etta. I was seven the first time I heard it, one of my more... liberal minded au pairs, Celeste, used to play it," pausing she gave a short laugh, "now that I think of it, I'm quite sure she was shagging my father and this was their song. She didn't stay very long after that. Pity, she was one of my favorites actually, even if she had been silly enough to think a St. James would ever cause a scandal and leave his wife for the nanny". Even as she recounted the tale, Dolly's tone was so blase about the whole thing, as though it wasn't completely out of the ordinary to be aware at the age of 7 your father had affairs and didn't really love your mother. It was hardly a wonder she was so bad at love.

Tapendra matched her smile for a moment, shaking his head. "Oh, it's a bit more visible than you'd think," he said, with a playful wink. "Certain turns of phrase in your books...references to poems...or perhaps I'm just reading it in because I know about it?"

They spun in place - or shuffled awkwardly, depending on which one an observer would find more accurate. Certainly Dolly shuffled with considerably more grace than Tapendra did, at least in his mind. He was having to pay a bit more attention to his feet than he'd like.

He looked out over her head as she explained, unable not to think of his mother in her description. His mother had never been poetic about it, but the false hope aspect...it stung a little. His mother's status as a mistress was how they'd gotten a roof over their heads..and frequently why they got kicked out when the man's wife found out.

"Not just the St. James," he said, with a laugh. "Not many proper purebloods leave their wives for their Mistresses, in my experience." He squeezed her hand gently, shaking his head."Love, eh? Bloody annoying at times, isn't it."

"It's because you've seen me cry, I suspect. Most of the Wizarding world is of the opinion I have loose morals at best and some suspect no soul at all," the tall lanky man was probably rather unaware of how well he knew her really, how privy he had been to her secret most pain, to her long lasting shame, to the guilt that could consume her for days until she simply couldn't stand herself anymore and threw herself back into work, or drinking, or both. Dolly made a habit of making people feel like they were special, in reality there were few people who had ever seen beyond the veil. Tapendra Trishna was one of even those few she trusted to never use it against her - no matter how tempting it might have been.

She looked up at him, her fingers squeezing back as she shook her head, "It's the lack of love, uneven love, skinny love, love that can't survive, that dooms us to fail Tappy. It's loving the idea of a person rather than the flesh and blood that's right in front of you. Celeste loved the idea of my father, the image he portrayed, not who he really was. I loved the idea of who Dominik had been and it blinded me to who he had become. It is the loving and giving completely of yourself to a ghost that ruins it all. Even after everything, even if I don't believe it's out there for me, I have to believe in real love because I've seen it. I saw it in the way Nora and Aliec looked at one another, still look at one another, the way Judy was with you..." her voice trailed off as she rested her forehead against his cheek.

"Real love, sadly, is not the grand sweeping gestures people read about in my books or the tragedy of the Opera House, it's the little moments. It's kisses good morning and letting someone put their cold feet on you at night. It's knowing how she takes her tea or buttering his toast because you know he's too absent minded to remember," her voice grew soft as she closed her eyes, the music winding down, "for people like me the little moments don't happen. Men go to bed with the pin up cover and are sorely disappointed on the off chance I stick around long enough to let them wake up with me," she pulled back a little to look at him, her hand still in his coming to rest over his heart, "but people like you, good people who don't have to lie about who they are, love happens, sometimes more than once. You just have to open yourself up to it," she gave him a small smile, ducking her head to place a small kiss against his knuckles, "Thank you, for the dance Darling. Most fun I've had all night".

Tapendra nodded. His own experiences of love - all kinds of it - made her words ring true, though his own experiences with love were rather fleeting...unless one counted family love, which he certainly did. That...that he was probably qualified to talk about, he decided. Still, he couldn't help but wonder just what the heck skinny love was - wasn't it a song? - but he grasped the meaning from the context easily enough. She was right, of course - though there were of course many other things that could doom love; and sometimes uneven love worked, he knew. Or seemed to work, in any case. His musing was cut a bit short when he accidently hit her foot with his, and he had to pause before he replied, to pay attention to his feet again.

He flushed, automatically, when she kissed his hand - laughing softly. He knew what she meant, of course - knew it was, to some extent, a hint. He talked to her about her problems but so very, very rarely spoke about his own, and tonight - tonight he didn't want to bother her, nor did he want to peel away that emotional scab.

"You should have more confidence in yourself," he said, simply. "Just because you and Dominik didn't work out - that hardly dooms you forever, Dolly." He patted her shoulder, shrugging. Now probably wasn't the best time for an actual pep talk about finding love again, given the incident that was less than an hour old. But - he couldn't help but wonder if, given the circumstances of her life, Dolly had really experienced love. Not the flash in the pan teenage passions, but the calmer, more rational kind of love. By the time she'd gotten to the age for it, Dominik had arisen as the major issue in her life, hadn't he...Tapendra decided he didn't really know the answer to that, at this point.

Tapendra raised her hand, kissing her knuckles in an echo of her gesture.  "Anytime, Dolls," he said, bowing to her with a smile.

Her smile was faint as he encouraged her to not be so hard on herself, a small shake of her head and a shrug of the shoulder followed, "Perhaps". She was not being dismissive of the thought outright, it was more that on this night she could not conceive of a moment in time when she would (or even could) face going through the process of falling again. Dolly was not in the business of denying who she was in a very broad sense.

 She knew she was difficult, she knew that she was temperamental, she knew that her career was demanding and that the persona that career necessitated her to put on made her hard to genuinely know and subsequently that made her harder to love. It would take an extremely unique sort of man to handle that package and all the baggage it entailed. Maybe someone like that was out there, but she wasn't going to find him tonight. 

Finally shifting her eyes toward the tent she gave a small resigned sigh, "I suppose people will start to talk if any of them are sober enough to notice we've both gone missing. How scandalous". Slipping her arm through his she gave it one last squeeze as she gently tugged him up the path back toward the glittering laughter and din of intoxicated conversation, smile perfectly in place as they parted ways just outside the entrance.