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magicalforcesau · 2 years

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Dancing with Ghosts in Your Garden~ Year 3: December (Part II)

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The swarm of Gryffindor boys rushing off to find their dates descended upon the castle like a herd of panicky cattle and Caleb Dume was no different. Hera hadn’t specified a meeting place and he certainly hadn’t thought of it. She wouldn’t yet be in the Great Hall on account of their participation in the champion’s waltz, but that didn’t exactly narrow things down much.

He milled around and passed quite a few couples, some clearly new and shy, others trying to sneak a few good snogs in before a prefect came around to scold them. The amount of colors swirling around both in dresses and dress robes was a bit of a sensory overload, the castle likely hadn’t seen this level of diversity in clothing since the last Yule Ball. Caleb found himself pulling on the hem of his suit top, he didn’t want to look rumpled when he did locate Hera.

Where could she be? He scanned the crowd anxiously. She didn’t seem the type to stand him up so she had to be here somewhere .

After a moment of thought he turned around and looked up.

There!

Sitting precariously on the railing of the floor above them was Hera. She looked like a model, silver dress curling around her and she had her hand extended to hold the owl perched there.

He’d never run up stairs faster.

“Hera!” He felt himself blush hard as she turned and smiled at him, “Y-you look wonderful,” He ducked his head slightly before leaning on the railing next to her. And she did, beautiful jewels hung from her lekku attached carefully to a headpiece keeping it in place. Her dress shimmered with every move she made.

“And you clean up well,” She smirked. The owl let out an ungodly screech and he winced while Hera laughed, “Caleb, I believe you’ve met Chopper before?”

“Briefly,” He’d once nearly been knocked clean off his broom by the pesky thing, hard to forget, “Hello,” He greeted him anyways.

Chopper pecked him on the head quite hard before opening his wings and flying off.

“Ow!” Caleb glared, “Bloody bird hates me,” He grumbled and Hera laughed.

“He’s defensive,” She acknowledged, “But he has a good heart, he’ll get used to you.”

Caleb felt his face heat up, “Do you think I’ll be around long enough to find out?” He asked tentatively.

“I think that’s up to you,” Hera leaned toward him, a hand drifting to his shoulder.

A blur of feathers and a sharp pain between his eyes had him falling backwards. Hera had been caught off guard and fell on top of him, her elbow knocking the wind out of him.

“Chopper!” Hera scolded rolling off of him, her face was very close and he felt the little breath he’d been able to catch get stuck in his throat, “Oh he got you good. I’m sorry,” She turned towards the bird, “Are you really going to ruin his face before we have our dance? Do you want me to look bad?” Thoroughly chastised, Chopper had the decency to look ashamed before ducking and flapping away.

“It’s going to be awhile before he likes me,” Caleb wheezed.

“That’s not such a bad thing is it?” Hera pulled her wand and set it on his forehead, he knew the spell she uttered, a simple healing spell, but with her accent it sounded like music. As cliche as he knew that was. He felt his skin knit itself back together and he smirked.

“I could get use to it.”

Satine hadn’t felt nervous at all until she was trailing after the other Ravenclaw girls chatting amongst themselves. She smoothed down her dress for the umpteenth time and tried to fall into the conversation around her. Right when she was about to open her mouth to add her own two cents on the conversation voices started trailing off. Silver garland was wound around the stair railings and the closer they got the more decor started to appear. The walls were coated in frost that was warm to the touch, but surely real. It was all sorts of whimsical and she felt herself reminded of how wonderful all these things were to experience in her first year.

She felt herself break away from the girls who continued onwards to locate their dates or simply to head into the Great Hall. She ran her hand through ice fragments dangling from the hall ceilings like chandeliers. They twinkled like windchimes as they resettled into place.

It was gorgeous even out here and she couldn’t wait to see what it looked like on the inside.

“Satine,” She turned and offered a polite smile. Quinlan, looking cleaned up and rather dashing in a suit and tie approached her with a grin, “Wow you look really pretty.”

“Thank you,” She smiled, appreciating the compliment although she knew it to be true, “And you look quite nice yourself this evening.”

“I should hope so!” He laughed, “I had to ask quite a lot of guys where to get a good suit, I certainly didn’t want to let Durmstrang down, or you.”

She had a feeling it was more about his school than her, but she could understand. He was a champion after all.

“You managed to pick out a good one after all,” She nodded her approval and he grinned.

“And with you by my side I’m sure the whole room won’t be able to keep their eyes off of us,” Satine wasn’t sure she liked the idea, she’d really prefer to have just laid low this evening. She was happy to go with Quinlan who was nice and polite, but she wasn’t a champion and didn’t want to be treated the way the media was treating certain other triwizard couples.

“I’m sure we’ll see,” She said instead. But she didn’t say no when he offered her an arm and she took it easily as they approached the last set of stairs toward the Great Hall.

Obi-Wan had arrived later than expected, although late to him was really just “on time”. There were students still mingling around, and greeting their dates, some in rather unchivalrous ways. Though most it seemed had drifted their way into the Great Hall. He passed Hera and Caleb who were chatting happily together although he wasn’t sure why they’d deign it a good idea to sit on the floor, it would likely dirty their clothes if they weren’t careful about it.

Bail and Breha were kind enough to offer him a smile and a wave as they passed on their way through the grand double doors. It looked rather snowy inside which was quite a feat of magic, but he didn’t get much more than a glance before he found nails dug into his arm and he was yanked quite harshly out of the way.

“Finally,” Ventress hissed, “I’ve been waiting , and you know it’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

“Since when were you a lady who cared,” He pried his arm away from her and crossed them firmly across his chest.

“There will be press here and I will not show up in there without you,” She pointed out, “What sort of image would that set for us.”

“A truthful one,” He shrugged, “But it doesn’t matter anyways because they’re not allowed in until the very end, this is a school event.”

“And you think that to be truthful?” Ventress scoffed, “Then you’re dumber than you look. They’ll make it in one way or another.”

“If you’re so concerned with image,” Obi-Wan pointed out, with a glare, “Then why are you wearing green?”

“Just because you ended up in Ravenclaw doesn’t mean I have to suffer wearing an inferior house’s colors,” She snarked looking him up and down, “I figured you would have picked something a little more extravagant.”

“Oh this old thing? Had it lying around I suppose,” He said sarcastically, “What did you want me to wear? Some good old fashion wizards robes?”

He would have continued, but he saw Ventress’ eyes narrow at something from behind him so he turned and every thought he had ceased to exist.

Satine, ever radiant, was walking down the stairs on the arm of Quinlan Vos. A red dress cut shorter in the front just to show off her long legs and heels that clacked against the stone floor. It had an illusion neckline with sheer fabric that made his eyes linger even if his ears turned pink. It fell around her neck leaving her shoulders and arms bare to the world and he was staring much longer than he should have if Ventress’ nails against his arm had anything to say about it. It didn’t stop him though, until she caught his eye, her eyes immediately turning from warm and soft to hard and cold, her eyes still lingered on him though before she turned away and turned her attention back on Vos, her date .

They looked good together, they at least matched, he hated to admit it. He could practically taste his own bitterness and jealousy and regret were perfect matches in his chest. He forced himself to rip his eyes from her, however painful and instead turn back to Ventress who just looked at him with a sneer, like he was a bug she very much wanted to crush.

“You're pathetic,” She would never coddle him. She walked forward practically ripping his arm from his socket as they moved towards where the other champions had begun to line up.

“And you’re heartless,” He tried to shoot back, but it came out quiet and flat. She may not have even heard or perhaps just deigned it a bad time to kick him while he was down. She’d have plenty of time after this to do so, he supposed quite bitterly.

“So, who am I walking in with?” Anakin asked Headmaster Yoda after slipping in through one of the side corridors to where all of the other champions and their dates waited near the large entrance doors to the great hall. Since it was fairly quiet where they stood, Anakin had to assume they’d be going soon. The champions and their chosen dates were always the last to enter the ball, at least according to tradition.

The problem was, Professor Windu hadn’t allowed Anakin a plus one as punishment for a few measly and harmless pranks. He could only imagine who Windu deigned to pair him with for the dance. Surely an uggo that couldn’t get a date.

Yoda’s wrinkled green face wore an expression of surprise, looking over at the other champions. Hera had Caleb Dume… And boy did she. Anakin wasn’t always the most keen at reading romantic tension, but those two were currently in their own world of googly eyes and conspiring giggles.

Quinlan, in a surprising turn of events, had brought Satine Kryze as his date, which for reasons Anakin couldn’t explain, felt like treachery in its own right. They didn’t look nearly as friendly as the former couple, but were chatting amicably and sharing a laugh or two.

Anything was better than the final couple, that is. Obi-Wan, true to his arranged courtship, had actually brought Asajj Ventress. Anakin truly didn’t get it. The Kenobis were such kind and accepting people. What could they see in Ventress? Perhaps, kindness could be blinding at times, because Anakin wasn’t sure he could ever forgive Ventress for what she’d done the year before. It was a bit off-putting that Obi-Wan could.

Still, neither talked and they stood a safe distance apart, so maybe they were still warming up. Obi-Wan probably wanted to talk to Satine more, since he kept glancing over to where she stood. She hadn’t noticed his quiet attempt and had only continued talking to Quinlan about some book she’d read.

And despite some of the pairings being a bit odd or unexpected, at least they were part of a pair. Anakin, unfortunately, was not, and judging by the look in Yoda’s eyes, he was just realizing that on his own.

“No partner, you have?” Yoda asked.

Anakin frowned, “Windu forbade me from asking anyone!”

“I said you couldn’t have a plus one,” Windu grimaced, approaching from what seemed to be thin air, “I didn’t say you couldn’t have a dance partner!”

“Is that not the same thing?” Anakin yelped, a hot brew of anger stewing beneath his skin. It was bad enough that he was dressed like one of the waiters that floated around and not like the leading champion he was, but this was somehow being made into his fault?

“Not at all,” Windu frowned, “You could have gone with any student already going. I just didn’t want you bringing Rex so the two of you could get up to trouble.”

“When has that ever happened?” Anakin asked.

“Hm, should I ask Satine about frog soap while we’re here?” Windu asked with mock consideration.

“You made me the help ! What was I supposed to think?” Anakin changed the subject, dangerously close to getting himself in enough trouble to occupy detention for the rest of his Hogwarts career. How could no one else see that even though he wasn’t the bloodthirsty killer he’d thought his first year, that Windu clearly had it out for him?

It was even more infuriating just how frustrated the Charms professor looked at the revelation that Anakin didn’t have a date.

“And when have you ever explicitly followed my word?” He asked and even though he kept his voice level, his tone wavered just enough to show that he was also concerned about how this would reflect Hogwarts’ already unsteady image.

That was a bit of a fair point, but Anakin wasn’t exactly trying to get in more trouble. Besides, it wasn’t like he could hide having a date the entire night. He wasn’t even foolhardy to try that stunt. Now, of course, he wished he had.

“Miscommunication, this is,” Yoda said in a low voice, “Have time to discuss, we do not.”

“Who am I supposed to dance with?” Anakin asked.

“I’m sure Professor Tahl can step in as a substitute,” Windu offered.

“I can’t dance with my teacher !” He hissed, looking over his shoulder to ensure the other champions weren’t overhearing this mess. This wasn’t exactly putting forth the prepared and collect message he’d wanted. As it were, they all seemed pretty absorbed in their own dealings. Ventress, in particular, looked venomous at Quinlan and Satine for some reason unknown to Anakin.

Anakin gritted his teeth, “Are you trying to destroy any chance at showing my face ever again?”

“Do you have a better idea?” He rounded on him.

He didn’t, but he had to try. Headmaster Yoda was right. They didn’t have time to point fingers, even if there was a very specific finger Anakin wanted to point in Windu’s direction. Instead, his mind raced to every possibility that would prevent him from being called a teacher’s pet for the rest of his time at Hogwarts.

He was a champion, after all. Someone would want to dance with him! But… Who didn’t already have a date? He didn’t think a black eye would look great with his outfit and if he tried to steal some bloke’s date, that was exactly what he’d earn.

Then, a lightbulb went off in his head and while he would normally be very hesitant to pursue such a path, but he didn’t have a lot of options laid out in front of him.

“I’ll come up with something,” He said.

“Sure, you are?” Yoda asked with a furrowed brow.

“I haven’t got much of a choice,” Anakin shot a pointed glare towards Windu, who only narrowed his eyes at him in response. He didn’t hang back to engage in a stare-down, though, and skirted out a side exit.

“Well, you ought to be quick. It’s almost 8.” Windu called after him.

As they waited for the champions to kick off the event, all other students were given time to congregate and properly soak in the beauty of the decor that completely transformed the great hall. If Padmé hadn’t known the castle by heart, she would have suspected they weren’t in the great hall at all, but in an official ballroom themed to the Christmas season. And Padmé knew something about ballrooms.

While the great hall usually held a warm and homey feel to it, there was no sense of that orange glow that filled the hearts and minds of many. Instead, the room was brightly illuminated in silver and white, seeming to sparkle every which way you looked. Icicles of all sizes hung from every ledge, further reflecting the chromatic nature of the room and providing a wintery feel that matched the snow that was charmed to rain down. It wasn’t real snow, of course, but like all weather patterns in the great hall, added a mesmerizing effect that worked wonders particularly on students from the foreign schools.

“I hadn’t even realized the walls of the great hall were white,” Rabé voiced Padmé’s own thoughts.

“Or that there was this much space,” Sabé pointed out, her eyes taking in the sheer impressive design that had gone into setting all of this up. Professors Yaddle and Plo were huge proponents as everyone knew and could be seen standing off to the side with clear pride coloring their features.

The snowflakes that had been designed and decorated by every student were stained into the marble ground, creating a shimmering effect each time the light caught it perfectly. Padmé wondered if she would find the one she made. No snowflake was exactly alike, after all.

Gone were the long tables that typically characterized the room as the primary dining hall available to them throughout their school careers. They were replaced with an array of white clothed round tables that were sprinkled around the front of the room. Only one of the long tables seemed to be repurposed and that was to rest along the side of the room, seeming to be where food would be placed for pickup.

Padmé had never seen a Christmas tree as big as the one that towered at the end of the room where the professors usually sat. Next to it, were two smaller, but still very large, trees that were adorned in decorations meant to give tribute to other holidays that were occurring this season. From where she stood, she could make out a menorah on a table in front of the mostly blue tree.

Just off to the left of the trees was a small stage with a silvery curtain that matched those that draped in front of the floor to ceiling windows. Clearly, that was where the band would be playing. Rumor had it, Yoda had managed to book the Modal Nodes.

“I think they’re getting ready to start,” Saché said, “They’re parting the students down the middle.”

She was right, of course, because as Professors Mundi and Tahl coordinated their efforts to form a clear path right down a red carpet that led straight into the center of the room, it was clear they were quite literally paving way for the champions to make their bold entrance.

“I wonder what Anakin’s going to do,” She said thoughtfully, “Windu didn’t allow him to bring anyone. He’s got to dance with someone .”

“Well, I was hoping you could help me with that,” A familiar voice that was not Saché replied.

She turned her head, nearly snapping her neck at the sudden movement, to see Anakin with his robe on top of his head like a hood, as if that was any more discreet than simply blending into the crowd. Beyond that poor disguise, he still looked very silly with slicked back hair and a set of dress robes that were more akin to an 18th century butler with a jacket that hung in low tendrils at the back, red high-waisted pants, and a frilly scarf as opposed to a tie.

Then again, she had a nagging suspicion that this had been the point.

“Anakin!” She hissed quietly, “What the hell are you doing out here? You’re about to go on?”

“I don’t have a date!” He fired back, “And apparently, I missed the memo that I was allowed to have a dance partner.”

“They didn’t have one ready for you?” She asked.

“Professor Tahl,” He grimaced, “A champion can’t dance with his professor!”

Padmé, though typically not the sort to care what other people thought of her, especially people who hardly knew her, could see his point in this.

“So, do you have a plan?” She asked.

“I have one,” He said, nodding at her pointedly, “That’s why I’m here.”

It took looking from Anakin’s rather desperate gaze to her friends, who were trying everything in them to suppress a series of smug looks, to connect the dots at what he was asking of her.

“Oh no,” She said vehemently, wagging a finger at him, “No way!”

“Please, Padmé?” He begged, clasping his hands together, “If you don’t help me on this, I’m going to look so stupid.”

“In that suit? You’re already kind of there,” Commented Rabé, who Padmé gave a sharp look that told her she was not helping.

“And why does it have to be me?” She asked.

“Because you’re good at dancing!” He said. “And you don’t have a date that would punch me in the nose for asking!”

“I don’t really need to have a date for that threat to occur,” She raised an eyebrow at him. She didn’t want any funny business. When she said they could be friends, she didn’t mean the sort of friends that was just a placeholder for him to make some other move on her. She would not be falling for that.

“Okay, okay, I know how this looks-”

“-It looks a little like you’re trying to trick a dance out of me,” She said.

“Just two friends waltzing together, that’s all.” He insisted, his light blue eyes more severe than she’d seen them. He really didn’t want to dance with Professor Tahl.

She looked around, as if hoping to apparate someone else into existence as an option for him. Most were already paired up and few would likely comply even if they weren’t. Anakin was popular with his victory, yes, but he was still a third year.

And she, personally, didn’t care about that. It was the fact that this was Anakin, who she had a nagging suspicion would have been in this exact position even if he had known he could bring a date. That was the frustrating part. Plus, she really hadn’t practiced enough to dance in front of all these people. She very pointedly came without a date for that very reason.

“Well?”

“I don’t know…” She sighed.

“Oh come on! What’s the worst that could happen?” He waved a hand at her, “Yes, there’s press and paparazzi here that might like how we look together, but I can’t control the fact that we’re two pretty people.”

She rolled her eyes, “Then find yourself another pretty person!”

Realizing this cockiness wouldn’t get him anywhere, he sighed, “Please?”

When she didn’t answer, he stepped back and shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance as he did so, “Okay, well, I guess I’ll just dance alone.”

Her jaw dropped, “Anakin, this is a waltz . You can’t dance alone.”

“Hey, there are lots of things I shouldn’t have been able to do,” He shrugged again, “But then I did.”

“You’ll look ridiculous!” She scoffed.

“Better than dancing with an old lady,” He said and then shook his head at her, “Besides, I’ve got moves.”

“You don’t.” She insisted, remembering back to some of the improvisation moments during dance lessons. “You won’t!”

“Yeah, it would probably be an insult on the tradition of things, but I’m sure they’ll get over it,” He cocked an eyebrow at her, “I’ll see you on the dancefloor later!”

With that, he waved her off and disappeared back into the swelling crowd, who were all pressing forward to see the champions and their dates kickstart the ball so they could all dance and eat.

“You’re not really going to let him go alone, are you?” Yané asked.

“How did this become my problem?” Padmé whirled back around to face the trumpets that began to play on their own and the large doors opened dramatically, revealing the Headmasters of each school first.

Anakin got himself into this mess, she reminded herself. If he was so impressed with his own moves, he could get himself out of it. He was certainly slippery enough to escape worse. A dance at the ball would be nothing compared to the dance he’d done with the dragon.

Per established tradition, the order at which they were to enter the great hall would go from order of placement based off of the first task with the last place contender going first and the leading champion last. It was meant to build momentum, of course, with Anakin being the grand finale of honorable guests.

That was all good and fine to Obi-Wan, except that the moments where they waited behind the closed set of doors, ready to go at a moment’s notice, felt as though it lasted all of eternity. They all remained quiet in order to avoid being heard by anyone on the other side, even though everyone already knew what was coming next.

Ventress’ hand clamped into the crook of his arm like a bear trap and he knew without checking that her nails would be leaving a mark this evening. She was even colder than usual and wore a steely disposition that would not be toiled with. When the doors swung open, he had no doubts that her sharp features would display a wide smile that would not meet her disgusted eyes.

All the sharp glares and tight holds would not match to the burning he felt at the back of his head. He was resolute in facing forward, but knew that Satine was staring at him hard. He hated feeling on display in front of her, with nothing to counteract with other than his own feigned ignorance. At least his failure in the first task had spared him from having to stare at her with Quinlan.

“Is this supposed to take this long?” Murmured the man in question.

The small ugly green part of him wanted to roll his eyes and ask him if he was capable of patience, but even Obi-Wan did wonder what was taking them so long. He made to lift his arm and check the time, but Ventress would not relinquish her hold to even allow him to do this.

“It does feel like it’s been a while,” He could hear Hera from further behind.

“Maybe the musicians are late?” Caleb suggested.

“They wouldn’t stall for that,” Satine said, and Obi-Wan shoved down any excitement at hearing her voice. They were all standing so close that he could practically feel the brush of her breath across the back of his neck. “It’s more likely related to the headmasters.”

“Sorry about that, guys.” Anakin chirped and if doing so wouldn’t have put him face to face with Satine, Obi-Wan would have turned to see what the youngest contestant was even talking about. What did Anakin have to do with the stall of the ball?

He wasn’t given a proper answer, though, because just then, a quartet of trumpets triumphantly played an interlude queuing the doors to swing broadly open, unveiling the glittering ballroom before them. It was quite impressive, he had to admit. It looked more like a crystal palace rather than the same place they ate every day.

Inhabiting the space, was a parted crowd of smartly dressed students, who watched them all with curiosity and jubilation from the sidelines.

As practiced, they led the charge of champions, following the headmasters strut down the red carpet. He kept his chin dipped high and tried not to fixate on all of the eyes that were presently on them. Such a loss of focus could allow for a simple mistake and the last thing they needed was a fall.

Their steps were perfectly in time with one another, but it wasn’t as though Obi-Wan had much other choice. Any time she felt he was moving too fast or slow, he received a painful squeeze that was difficult to resist wincing at. Still, he kept a smile plastered on his face, even if he was already dazed by the onslaught of attention.

The red carpet led straight to the center of the room, providing a grand amount of space fit for ballroom dancing. It felt mechanical as he turned to face Ventress straight on, and despite being directly in front of each other, both of them were looking through the other, as if hoping the person in front of them would transform into a window. Instead, if he bothered to focus too hard on Ventress, he found a reflection of his own disdain in her eyes.

Treacherously, he flickered his gaze over her shoulder and at Quinlan and Satine, who did not stray in their dedication to staring at each other. They were smiling as they all were, but were certainly more genuine than he and Ventress, who Obi-Wan felt were more reminiscent of two deranged lunatics with more interest in the floor than each other.

His gut twisted and this time he did growl when Ventress pinched him. He looked back at her, her eyes like broken glass as they glowered at him. This should have been hard to do whilst smiling, but it only made Ventress more frightening.

“Grab my waist, you twit.” She spat in a hushed tone.

“No need to pull out the claws,” He whispered back through tight lips. “And I mean that literally.”

Though he did what she said, it was only because his resistance would only stall matters further, and he didn’t want to hold anyone else up. Sure enough, though there was another curious pause after he placed his hand on the middle of her back and took her other hand in his, a full orchestra played the uplifting instrumental tune that was the Champion’s Waltz. Though played for generations upon generations, each performer added their own spin to modernize it. The Modal Nodes, led by Figrin D’an and accompanied by his fellow Bith, added a certain swing-like quality to it that was common with their music.

It required fast footwork, to go with the swift beat changes and overall whimsy that the song inspired. It was meant to be hopeful and ethereal, though Obi-Wan found that it starkly contrasted with his own experiences thus far.

Though he was usually quite smooth in dance, he very nearly dropped Ventress when he didn’t get a decent placement on her waist for the first lift. He had been too preoccupied realizing that Anakin was… Dancing completely alone?

And to call it dancing… Well, that was a bit of an overstatement.

“Drop me and I drop kick you,” She said tartly, allowing a smile towards the crowd to make it seem as though they were a couple perfectly in tune with each other. Even if in reality they couldn’t be less suitable.

“What the bloody hell is he doing?” Obi-Wan asked instead, really not caring what Ventress’ insight was on the matter. He made to move them closer to where Anakin twirled around in place, his arms outstretched as though he was dancing with a ghost. When Ventress resisted, he clenched his teeth, “I’m supposed to be leading.”

“And I’m supposed to be happy about all of this, so we all don’t get what we want.”

“Oh believe me, that I know,” He said.

He squinted to look closer, noting that there was no ghost in between Anakin’s arms. In fact, there weren’t any ghosts present at all. Headmaster Yoda and Professor Windu looked aghast from the crowd and the other champions were just as confused.

Why was he dancing alone? Was that why he’d been late?

Distantly, he remembered Anakin telling him that he hadn’t been allowed to bring a date. Well, what exactly did they want from him?

As Anakin started to do what could only be described as bouncing up and down, Obi-Wan had to assume that they wanted anything but this. He felt himself redden at his own secondhand embarrassment.

Caleb and Hera, who were previously under a spell that only they could speak of in its potency, were even shooting him weird looks from across the room. Neither broke stride, clearly the best suited couple on the floor.

Obi-Wan really couldn’t believe he wasn’t in last place on that front.

Determined to figure out what precisely Anakin thought he was doing, he turned to call over his shoulder to get his attention. This must have looked like the most thrown together dance in history. Instead of attempting to waltz anymore with his imaginary friend, Anakin moved his arms as though he was slicing the air very slowly and suddenly, moving without bending his joints.

“Anakin! What is going on?” He hissed.

“I’m doing the robot!” He insisted, continuing whatever “the robot” was.

Obi-Wan was sure that Professor Windu was going to march right onto the dancefloor and rip Anakin away by his ear or perhaps stop the dance altogether. However, the horror of this choreography hadn’t gone on for too long before Padmé Amidala smoothly slipped into Anakin’s arms after he’d just come out of a violent twirl. If Obi-Wan didn’t know Anakin and couldn’t read the tight expression on Padmé’s face, he’d think it was planned this way.

By the impressed applause that the surrounding crowd partook in, it seemed they bought it as such. He just hoped they also didn’t notice the way he very nearly almost tripped over Ventress’ foot and fallen to the ground at the sight of Quinlan and Satine, who were sharing a hearty laugh during their own dance. Quinlan seemed to lift Satine as though she was a weightless offering to the stars above and suddenly Obi-Wan’s own arms felt incredibly heavy.

“Eyes forward!” Ventress chastised and for a moment she sounded so much like his mother that he had to double take. When he did, he could see she looked quite peeved at the other couple’s happiness too. “And don’t even think about getting handsy.”

“I would sooner die a very painful death,” Obi-Wan’s own smile dropped at that.

“I can arrange that,” She snapped.

He didn’t doubt that she could, but he didn’t really care all that much in the moment either.

Satine was surprised to discover that Quinlan Vos was something of an effortless dancer. He led without pause and didn’t even need to think about his next step. The song, itself, was quite pleasant, but drowned out by the other dancers that had taken to the floor. She was fine with their joining in. She didn’t like having that much focus on her.

Especially when most of that focus was surrounding the shock that Quinlan Vos had taken her to the ball.

As though she was some lowly maiden that required saving and he was a knight in shining armor. That, she deduced, was anything but true, given their joint circumstances. That didn’t still mean they couldn’t have fun.

He was quite chatty too, which she thought she’d be fond of, since she didn’t know what they would talk about.

“And then, when I was climbing around the belly of the beast, I realized, sometimes, you need to be ready to get your hands dirty,” Quinlan explained, in detail, his summer of seeking out a wild Quintaped that was loose in east Scotland, “Or his legs, of course.”

“I see.” Satine would have been interested to hear about any findings regarding the species, as they were incredibly rare. Admittedly, her terminology on ancient and unknown creatures was pretty limited. She’d never taken Care of Magical Creatures at school and only really knew what they taught in her other classes.

Of course, that didn’t make her immune to hearing of them from one of her passionate friends-

“-Lost my wand in the scuffle earlier and of course the bastard got me in my good arm,” If Quinlan wasn’t so busy dancing with Satine in the very formal, very elegant opening ceremony dance, he very likely would have ripped his shirt off in excitement of showing her, “Because their mantacles are venomous, my arm was basically the size of a Hutt! And the color of one too!”

He didn’t speak of suffering, though, but of excitement. Mildly, Satine assessed that if he weren’t at Durmstrang, Quinlan Vos no doubt would have been sorted into Gryffindor. In fact, Cody would have loved this line of conversation.

“So, I did what anyone would do and whipped out my spare knife and carved my way out. You see, every creature has a soft spot, even when they have rock-hard skin. Nothing is impenetrable, and that Quintaped was soon literally spilling its guts.”

She tried not to gag at the visual of Quinlan turning the Quintaped into a jack-o-lantern, even if the beast sounded quite cruel and was causing hell for the surrounding villages of the Isle of Drear. In fact, based on how ruthless it was in harvesting its “feasts” and keeping them alive while slowly poisoning them, the isle received that name for a very specific reason. Still, it was alive, and she took no pleasure in hearing of anything’s suffering.

“-You should have seen the green blood that oozed everywhere! It attracted every batty buzzard within a mile radius. To prove to the local village that I conquered the beast, I had to bring back something left behind.”

She knew where this was going, but she still couldn’t help but cringe a bit as he went into detail about how one ripped an eyeball from a socket.

Quinlan, who seemed to finally catch on to some of her discomfort, frowned, “Make no mistake, I didn’t like doing it, but it needed to be done. The Quintaped is actually a crime against nature, made from a transfiguration spell that was never reversed.”

“That’s horrible,” Satine murmured, “And the people behind such a thing should be arrested.”

Quinlan seemed taken aback by this for a moment, but then nodded, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, actually.”

She furrowed her brow, “I mean, did no one bother to investigate this matter? Clearly, it had to have come from somewhere.”

Her mind harked back to the Zillo Beast, which, as far as they knew, was still in hiding somewhere, avoiding the public’s gaze. She couldn’t blame it. She could only imagine what would happen to it should it be found. However, she couldn’t help but wonder how it hadn’t. Something that large couldn’t exactly simply shroud itself in a forest.

“I’ll be honest, they don’t usually call me in to do that kind of research,” Quinlan said, “My expertise has always been in finding things and people.”

“Your usage of psychometry is impressive,” Satine said, “Are you intending on pursuing a path with the Aurors?”

“Nah, that’s a bit too dark for me,” he laughed with a shrug, “Slaying beasts and vigilante justice is much more my speed.”

“Less commitment that way, I suppose,” She said.

“Exactly!” He said enthusiastically, “All of those blokes are sticklers. They don’t know how to have any fun.”

She did genuinely laugh at that, though likely not for the reasons he thought that she was. She would not be giving in to the pull of gravity to look over his shoulder and kept her eyes straight on Quinlan. In her peripherals she could still make out the flurry of emerald from Ventress’ dress.

Since she couldn’t even be bothered to match her date.

No, she wouldn’t be going there. She didn’t care. She decided that she wouldn’t care about that. She was going to enjoy her night and her date without any such negative thoughts. It didn’t concern her what her friend and his date did.

“You should also hear about my adventure with the manticore.” He said. “Left some tooth marks in my stomach after all, but I also left some in his.”

Satine fought off a grimace and just smiled. She knew it was going to take effort to be fully happy, but she didn’t know it was going to take this much effort.

“I knew you couldn’t resist helping me,” Anakin smiled smugly as he and Padmé quite skillfully waltzed around the room. Professor Windu and the others seemed to have calmed down a great deal, though he was sure he’d be hearing about this for a while. Technically, it wasn’t like he broke any rules by opting to dance alone.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” She warned him, “This had nothing to do with you.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.” She said as he successfully lifted her.

He was relieved he hadn’t dropped her. No, that surely wouldn’t send the right message.

“I promise I didn’t do this on purpose,” He said.

“Just like the halloween costumes?” She retorted.

“Okay, that was, I’ll admit, an ill-fated plan. Dead on arrival.” He said. “But this was not, obviously, because you are dancing with me right now.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to figure that part out,” Padmé sighed and allowed herself to be twirled. Though she hadn’t planned on being whisked into a ballroom dance with Anakin of all people, she couldn’t deny that her dress was made to be twirled. Anakin stared as the bottom formed a perfect circle that swished back into place when she came back to him.

“You sure about that?” He raised an eyebrow at her as he switched hands on her waist. He doubted he was doing it perfectly, but he’d already sufficiently set the bar pretty low in terms of expectations. He was happy to see that cameras were flashing and people were clapping at the show. Padmé had jumped in at the perfect moment, just as he knew that she would.

“Positive,” She shook her head, the perfectly sculpted ringlets in her hair shaking a bit as she did. In his haste, he hadn’t been afforded a moment to realize how beautiful she looked this evening- all dressed in pink and reminding him of someone that belonged in a Disney movie.

“I don’t know, you seemed pretty eager,” He goaded.

She scoffed, “You were ready to humiliate the entire school and our house! I couldn’t let that happen in good conscience.”

Anakin couldn’t stop smiling at the idea that Padmé, despite how she denied it right now, cared deeply enough to risk her own embarrassment to help Anakin. It really did mean they were friends and that was as good a feeling as any victory or reward.

“Professor Windu likely thanks you for that,” He nodded over towards the now placated, but eternally stone faced professor. Headmaster Yoda was getting into the spirit of things, having already asked Yaddle to join him for a dance. One by one after them, other professors and students flitted to the dancefloor and joined in on the fun.

There’d never been a dance at Hogwarts, at least not in over a century, so students were clambering at the opportunity to partake. Yané and Saché were quite bashful to be dancing together, though they made a smart couple through and through. Sebulba, much to Anakin’s quiet pleasure, couldn’t seem to get his date to dance with him. Cassie Cryar, it seemed, despite being equally terrifying looking like Sebulba, was more interested in watching Quinlan Vos from afar. Even Cody was dancing with Zam Wessell, though the two really didn’t match at all.

“It was like watching a trainwreck, it was so bad,” Padmé grimaced, “I couldn’t watch.”

“So, you just had to get close up,” He grinned, “You sure it wasn’t at least a little bit for me?”

“Don’t push your luck,” She said, “And be grateful I was here to save you.”

“I knew that you would,” He affirmed.

“Because I’m a pushover,” She puffed out a soft laugh.

“Because you’re a good person,” He nodded firmly, “And because maybe… You really did want to dance to this really old song with someone, performed by those guys with the butts as heads.”

She laughed at that, “It’s a classic! And how would you know? Have you been listening to Tri-Wizard ballads your whole life?”

“Actually,” He hadn’t, of course, because he hadn’t been exposed to much in the ways of the wizarding world as a child. However, his heart twanged at the thought of his mother while a harmonic string solo echoed a soothing sadness in its wake, “I think my mum used to sing this to me when I was little.”

Padmé’s entire demeanor changed as she watched him carefully, “Really?”

“Yeah,” He said thoughtfully, thinking back on being little and waking up from a terrible nightmare about snakes or monsters, and going to his mum. “When I was scared, she’d hum this song amongst others. I never knew what it came from until we started doing the dance lessons.”

It was clear she didn’t know what to say to that, which was okay, since Anakin didn’t know what he wanted or needed to hear. Instead, the memory of his mother was strangely comforting enough.

“In any case, thank you,” He smiled finally, “It feels right to share this song with someone special, even if not under ideal circumstances.”

As the music faded out, and left them all a space to clap and cheer at the initiation of the real fun, Anakin’s hands dropped from Padmé’s waist. They were the same height this year, which was a bit of a relief to Anakin. She was looking at him curiously, with a little bit of sadness that he might have resented coming from someone else.

“Maybe,” She relented, an eyebrow cocked, “It was a little bit for you.”

He smiled brightly and pointed at her, “I knew it!”

Then, as he glanced over at Professor Windu, he grinned, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a job to do.”

Yeah, he was going to make Windu regret making Anakin butler.

As he passed Professor Palpatine, who looked absolutely jubilant to just be there, basking in the happy energy from everyone as they all burst into a much less civilized dance, he couldn’t help but wonder why Windu couldn’t have that same outgoing spirit.

“With a simple flick of the wrist, I could smite you all down… Yes, it would take little to no effort at all. I would start with these filthy mudbloods and force their friends to watch as I ripped them limb from limb torturously and ensure that I save Headmaster Yoda for last so he can bask in his failure.” Sidious relished in the fantasy playing before his very eyes. Visualizing the fiery destruction of this putrid establishment and the mutilation of all who inhabited it was really the only thing keeping him calm amongst the brew of hormonally driven drama and excitement that was the Yule Ball.

To be forced to smile and display merriment at the union of the three schools was one thing, but dealing with the onslaught of needless and pointless drama that encompassed the lives of these idiots was truly putting his patience to the test. It was borderline torture to have to treat these minute “issues” as though they were emergencies.

And yet, there he was, fielding out boys who tried to sneak smoke bombs in the bathrooms, breaking up couples that were incapable of keeping their bloody hands to themselves, and hearing out the sobbing morons dumped by students with nothing between their ears but wax.

Did they not see how small their very existence was? Did they not understand that no one cared who they snogged or who they quarreled with? Did they not comprehend truly how soft and expendable they all were? And how much joy removing them from this earth would bring Sidious and those who followed him?

None of it would matter when they were all dead.

Again, this brought a smile to his face. It would be worth it. It had to be worth it. Sure, he would need to keep some of these imbeciles alive. Slytherin, though not exempt from housing nimrods that focused more on the very immediate melodrama presented to them, would likely hold the most survivors. Still, they’d be broken.

As he glanced over to Sebulba, who was trying to steal a kiss from his date, Cassie Cryar, and was simply returned with a swift slap in the face, he decided some would need to be more broken than others. He glanced away, pretending not to notice the problem.

Anakin Skywalker, though powerful beyond recognition (a reality Sidious intended on exploiting), was insolent and grating in his own right. However, being a necessary component of enacting a new age did allow for some leniency on this front. At the very least, Skywalker was driving all of his exasperating energy onto Professor Mace Windu by acting as the very servant he was told to be.

“Can I get you a hot towel, my liege?” Skywalker asked in an eccentrically haughty tone as he followed closely behind Windu’s trailing cloak. “Perhaps draw you a warm bath?”

“For the last time, no , Skywalker,” Windu hissed.

“Can I interest you in some little weenies then, master?” He asked.

“I am not your master,” Windu said, “And get that tray away from me. Those weren’t on the menu.”

“Extended menu for you, my lord.”

“Who made them?” Windu asked.

“I do not know, your highness.” Anakin said, “Shall I run to the kitchen to find out?”

“Do not go anywhere near the kitchen.” Windu ordered. “The last thing we need is your getting burned or turning all the food into sweets.”

“I am offended, sir.”

Windu sighed and pinched his nose, “You’re being annoying on purpose.”

“Me, annoying? I do apologize, your worship, but I mean no harm.”

“Then go away and bus some tables.” Windu said. “This is supposed to be a punishment and you are having too much fun.”

“No fun is being had by me, captain. I am but fulfilling your request at being a servant.” Anakin shook his head, not moving a gelled hair on his head in the process. That would certainly take a lot to get out even with magic, “All tables have been cleaned.”

“Waiter,” Corrected Windu. “You are not my servant.”

“Au contraire,” Anakin smiled, “I am at your beck and call, all night. It is as you wanted it, your grace.”

As it was obvious this had been going on for quite some time, Windu looked absolutely worn by the mere prospect of having Skywalker in his shadow for the entirety of the evening. Weighing out his options, he released a heavy sigh.

“Fine, you’re dismissed.” He said.

“Oh no, sire, I cannot abandon my post,” Anakin grinned, propping a cloth napkin over his forearm for show. “I am to follow you all night without pause or break.”

“Skywalker, I’m serious, you don’t have to anymore.” He said, “This was a bad idea anyway.”

“Certainly not, your majesty. It’s my pleasure .” Oh, was the boy smart. He was certainly going to get Windu riled up by his own foolish rules. It was smart, as these primitive professors lived and would die by their narcissism.

Was he purposely laying it on thick? Absolutely, but Sidious did enjoy watching Windu squirm.

“You’re free to go.” Windu emphasized with more purpose, “If you do not step away from me within the next three seconds, you will have detention for the rest of the year.”

A fairly empty threat, if Sidious ever saw, but effective in this society. Sidious reminisced on the days when they removed fingers as punishment.

“Excellent,” Immediately, as though he’d become a new person entirely, Anakin ripped off his tie, removed his suit jacket, and ruffled his hair to stand on all ends before dashing into the hoard of people that currently swarmed the dancefloor.

“That kid is going to be the death of me,” Windu grimaced before shaking his head and continuing on a patrol of the floor, no doubt ensuring that the relentless paparazzi stayed away.

“Oh, I certainly hope so,” Chuckled Sidious out loud.

Any sound was drowned out by the supposed “music” that the Modal Nodes swung to at the helm of the stage. It was repetitive and simple to Sidious, who much preferred the haunting tones of Sith Opera. Very few were able to stomach some of the performances, but he felt as though that was what made them true art.

This, poppy and peppy garbage would surely be stuck in his head for weeks and he wanted to rupture his eardrums at the thought.

His eyes roamed the dancefloor, forcing down a grimace at how carefree and happy each student was as they basked in the euphoria of misguided hopes and dreams. Their youthful anticipation was a poisonous dagger that Sidious would be sure to turn on them in due time. All the same, it pierced him now, and reminded him just how far off he was from completing his plans.

He still needed them and still needed their trust. It was a humbling thought and reminder to remain in line, lest he be ousted as a mad man rather than a visionary. However, if there was a night to break him, he swore it would be this.

To watch Obi-Wan Kenobi stand irritatingly safe and sound off to the side, retrieving two glasses of punch from the concession table, was like dangling an antelope before a coyote. Even more pressing was how he was mindlessly distracted from his task to the point of spilling the red punch on his shirt, staining it a deep red over his chest.

It was decidedly not the sort of red stain Sidious cared to see on the glorified obstacle in his way. Even more disgusting, was the obvious reason for his distraction being that bothersome mudblood Satine Kryze. Kenobi could hardly take his eyes off of her, save for when she glanced his way. In that case, he looked just about anywhere else. However, much to the boy’s obvious disdain, Kryze did not look his way. She was much too focused on her own dealings.

What a waste of authentic procreation. The boy could have been so much, had he truly been as wise as Ravenclaw house presented themselves to be. If he had graciously accepted his place in life as superior, he wouldn’t need to die, for instance. Instead, his proximity to Skywalker would be seen as a gift rather than a curse. He would be protected and encouraged in this competition and heralded as the truest champion at Hogwarts.

Instead, he’d be a forgotten relic of missed opportunity.

Sidious took a swig of his drink- a much stronger brew was needed for a night like this. The burning liquid coursing down his throat soothed some of the immediate tension clutching to his joints.

He cared not for who Kenobi lusted for, as it was all inevitably tragic in the end regardless. He would die this year regardless of who he desired, and Kryze would certainly reach her own fate soon enough. All the mudbloods and their sympathizers would. It was only true balance at its finest.

If all went accordingly, of course.

Which, as it seemed, there would always be hiccups in his plans as long as he was forced to loop in fools like Nute Gunray, who was surely making a point of seeming useful this evening rather than actually doing anything of consequence. Currently, he was reaming out a couple of fifth years that decided spinning on their heads was an option. Sidious didn’t see why breaking their necks was such a big deal, but Gunray enjoyed breaking up the masses and instituting rules. It was just about all he and his fellow Ministry pencil pushers were good for.

That, and padding out the cause, making it more palpable for those who cared to seem like good people on the surface level. Though not nearly dedicated enough to ever be within his inner circle, Sidious could not ignore the merit of possessing a casual following. To create revolution, political discourse would absolutely be necessary.

If Gunray could get Sidious those people, he would maybe survive this year.

For now, Sidious was stuck with these people.

“Hondo, just what do you think you’re doing?” He asked, restricting himself from displaying any true grit. His reputation as the gentle and understanding professor was helpful, of course, but that didn’t mean acting as such didn’t give cause for a headache.

The Weequay, never one to lay low in terms of trouble, and if he was, only meant for more trouble, was not so discreetly tugging along a suspiciously large crate in his wake. Seeing as there were very few other professors in this general vicinity, Sidious internally growled at having to take charge of the stupidity that was surely about to ensue.

“Professor! How is your night going?” Hondo asked excitedly, as though he wasn’t about to get into trouble. Seriously, what was the harm in removing the boy’s thumbs? That would surely teach him a lesson he’d never forget.

Talk about useless authentic procreation. Sidious was still positive that Hondo had to be a bastard child. There was no way this was the result of years of proper breeding.

“Reasonably uneventful,” Palpatine said, choosing his words carefully before eyeing the crate next to Hondo with obvious suspicion, “I would certainly like to keep it that way.”

As if that was going to happen.

“Of course!” Hondo cheered, “Hondo was simply bringing more party to the party!”

“In what way?” Palpatine asked, already feeling a sharp headache stabbing at his frontal lobe.

Surprisingly, Hondo immediately lifted the top of the crate and instead of a carnivorous and equally messy beast as one might have expected, it was merely a multi-colored contraption. To his knowledge, it looked like the amalgamation between an old record player and several large radios, complete with a large golden funnel at the top. Not to mention there were, what Palpatine could only assume, flashing lights.

“And what is this supposed to do?” He asked, “There is already ample entertainment, Mr. Ohnaka.”

“First of all, there is never enough entertainment, Professor,” Hondo said in his best salesman voice. Perhaps, there was a future for him beyond Hogwarts. Salesmen were intrinsically annoying and persistent. “And eventually, the Modal Nodes do need to go on break.”

“To which everyone will do the same.” Palpatine insisted.

“But then you’ve got a bunch of antsy students running around and causing trouble! I’ve seen some of the couples here, Professor, and they look ready for an opportunity to strike on mischief. Whether it be in the form of pranks, mayhem, or shagging in corners, you will have insanity at your hands.”

He hated to admit it, but Hondo was right, even if most of that trouble would come from him and his band of goonies, alone.

“And what will this do, exactly?”

“Play a little music is all!” Hondo said, “Hondo would never want to jeopardize the sanctity of the Yule Ball, only enhance it!”

The problem was, Hondo’s perception of improvement was very different from most people. Even looking at the boy now in dress robes, he still looked like a pirate. His necktie was fastened around his head, his shirt was untucked, and he somehow had mysterious grime all over his shirt and pants.

Plus, he smelled like sweat and Palpatine wanted him to go away.

“If you insist on trying this… Thing, you must promise to only play appropriate music. If you do not, I will have no choice but to remove you from this event.”

“Of course, of course!” Hondo placed a hand over his heart, “Hondo swears to only play music appropriate for this event.”

Palpatine knew that there was an angle in here somewhere, but as it looked like Headmaster Yoda needed help in preventing the drones of harpies from pouring in and harassing the contestants, he didn’t have much time for it. He would sooner just flee the scene altogether, but if there was one thing he hated as much as the other professors, it was the Daily Prophet .

“Very well,” He sighed, “But not until the band has finished their set.”

He would do anything to get them to stop sooner.

“You are truly a vision, Professor,” Hondo grinned, “Hondo hopes you get a dance with the prettiest lady professor in the castle.”

Palpatine struggled to hold down a gag and simply nodded before drifting away towards where Headmaster Yoda and Professor Windu attempted to hold back the masses. They were allowed limited face time, as negotiated by the Ministry of Magic, but now was not it. Reporters were always snot nosed and sniveling, though. He’d respect it more if it did anything in his favor.

“Er, Professor?” A voice stopped him in his wake and he gritted his teeth and took a breath before turning around to see Bultar Swan looking up at him through helpless eyes. Stars, he wished that girl had remained in stone, even if Ventress’ attempts at a takeover were futile, at least she had guts.

“Yes, my dear?” He asked.

“Ody Mandrell just vomited on my shoes.”

“Then use the scouring charm to clean its contents and punch the bloke in the face you useless piece of-”

“Ah yes, let me help you with that. No worries! We’ll get you all fixed up.” He said.

Though he was not remotely a professor at Hogwarts for the money, he still deemed he was not paid enough for this.

Satine always held a soft spot for tradition, particularly of the non-violent variety, and knew that she had been participating in what should have felt like a once in lifetime opportunity for her. On top of being amongst the first generation in a century to experience the Yule Ball, she was only one of eight to open the ceremony. However, she couldn’t deny that it was much easier to get into the groove of the festivities when all of the formal fanfare had essentially been fulfilled.

She’d been pleasantly surprised at how much this all resembled a typical school dance when the curtains of formality had been lifted to unleash a pit of sweaty teenagers bobbing up and down together to loud music that didn’t make sense. Well, at least to her. The Modal Nodes had a curious sound, which all tended to blend together in a mixture of swing, jazz, and electronica. All in all, there were no words, but everyone else seemed to know the name of each song. To Satine, it sounded like elevator music, but she wouldn’t deny that it was at least catchy.

“Man, I love jizz,” Quinlan sighed reverently when the band announced they’d be taking five.

Satine gaped, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Jizz,” He said simply, completely unfazed by her obvious disdain. “Especially when the Bith are involved.”

“I… Honestly do not know what to say to that,” She cringed, because really, how was she supposed to respond to such a random outburst? She did take a step away from him, keen on creating some distance if he truly had such crass and disgusting interests. Who just came out and said something like that? Quinlan Vos looked normal enough on the outside, but if this were true, he was far too comfortable in airing out his dirty secrets.

She hoped he wasn’t trying to imply anything.

Finally, Aayla and Stass, who were returning from puttering around the floor with their own dates, put her out of her misery with an explosion of laughter.

“The music, Satine!” Stass chortled.

Satine, who was still deeply confused, relaxed a bit at her friend’s insistence. Luckily, Aayla was keen to explain after she got over her own bout of laughter.

“The Modal Nodes specialize in a musical genre called, “jizz”. It derives from jazz, but has a more poppy undertone to it.”

“It’s really quite sophisticated,” Stass continued.

Quinlan’s eyes rounded out perfectly and his cheeks were immediately flushed, “Wait, did you think I meant-”

“-No, no! Just couldn’t hear you, that's all.” She wanted to die right there on the spot. Seriously, if Dooku was interested in a sacrificial lamb, she was certain she’d volunteer herself right then and there.

The fact that they didn’t even have music to offer as a distraction made this moment all the more damning. She’d quickly learned that while Quinlan was a good time to be around, they didn’t have loads in common in terms of conversation. However, she had quite enjoyed dancing with him to the fast pace stuff.

“Where are your dates?” She cleared her throat as she turned to her very smug friends.

“Coleman ran to grab me something to drink,” Stass smiled in the direction of the concession table. Near it, Obi-Wan and Ventress stood having a very serious conversation with Caleb and Hera.

Satine did not allow her gaze to linger for more than a moment.

“And Eeth is somewhere around here,” Aayla rolled her eyes, “You know how Quidditch bums can be. Everywhere all at the same time.”

“Hey now, we’re not all like that!” Cody grinned as he burst into the conversation. Satine could have kissed him for his intrusion, seeing as Quinlan was sufficiently distracted from her faux paux, but Cody did look like a sweaty mess.

“Oh yeah, and where’s your date?” Quinlan asked with a smirk.

“Don’t get too big for yourself, she’s here,” He looked around, “She said she was going to powder her nose. Is that code for taking a dump?”

“And you didn’t wait for her?” Satine asked, a bit horrified. “And no.”

“What am I supposed to do? Hold her handbag and just let all of you have a good time without me?” He dabbed some sweat on his forehead with his tie, which had been in his pocket. Cody had quickly ditched the blue vest as well, though Satine did not have high hopes that he placed it somewhere secure.

“Yes,” All three girls said in unison.

“Ease up on him ladies,” Quinlan patted him on the back, a smile still tugging at his lips, “He’s new to this.”

“I’m her date, not her waiter!” Cody insisted, though he certainly looked a little less sure about his decisions. He would never want to deliberately hurt someone’s feelings, of course, but he could be a little daft in this department.

“You’re supposed to be here with her,” Aayla pointed out, “Thus proving my point that all the Quidditch blokes are the same.”

“I dunno, I’m a Quidditch bloke,” Quinlan offered and winked at Satine, who offered him a smile.

“And so are you,” Stass teased Aayla, “And here you are with us.”

“I’m allowed to insult the brand, I’m a part of it.” She justified and glanced over her shoulder again.

“Besides, Kenobi seems to be sticking with Ventress,” Quinlan, though the one to point this out, seemed anything but his usual cheerful self when he did. If anything, he looked a bit ill at the sight of them. Satine could understand why. Ventress had that sort of effect.

“I’d hardly call Be- Obi-Wan a Quidditch anything ,” Satine huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “He hates the sport.”

“Hates it? Then why does he play?” Quinlan asked.

Satine’s tongue suddenly went heavy with harsh words about his parents and their seemingly infallible hold on him, and how they had gone ahead and ruined every potentially positive experience he could have had. Until those words brought upon memories of unnecessary headgear and glasses and the threat of shaving his head if he didn’t behave. It made her think of migraines so sharp she feared they would split his head in two. It made her think of a blue dress and a corresponding tie that would never be worn.

However, the moment passed as quickly as it came and she was able to stiffly offer, “He’s a bit odd like that.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it was far from the full truth that she had been privy to.

Cody tilted his head in concern, but she didn’t accept the bait. Satine didn’t like the drastic change in mood that had taken over them, so she switched tactics.

“Was your date alright with the color mix-up?” Was she a bad friend for redirecting to Cody’s tales of woe?

He waved it off, “I told her I was color blind and she seemed okay from there.”

“She bought that?” Satine couldn’t help but laugh.

“It was Echo and Fives’ idea.” He shrugged and looked over to where his brothers talked to the identical blue twi’leks differentiated only by their dress colors.

“Feels a bit weird that your brothers dig blue twi’leks,” Aayla grimaced.

“Do you need to make everything about you?” Laughed Stass.

“I’m just saying! There better not be Quidditch posters of me in their four posters.”

Before anyone had a proper rebuttal to that insinuation, the loud shriek of a discombobulated microphone broke up any and all pleasantries being exchanged throughout the hall. They all covered their ears instinctually and glanced up at the stage, where none other than Hondo Ohnaka stumbled around carrying a very large box.

“Hondo! What the hell is he doing?” Cody barked, still clutching his hands to either side of his head.

Nobody had an answer for that except Hondo, himself, who grasped the mic stand with aggressive zeal, understanding that his time allowed on that stage was likely very limited.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and professors! Thanks to my good friend, Professor Palpatine, I present to you the newest and hottest slice of innovation in the sound industry.”

“Professor Palpatine?” Satine questioned, looking around to see that the potions professor was nowhere in sight. In fact, most of the professors mysteriously disappeared from the scene. Ziro and Nala Se were still present, as was Gunray and Professor Tahl. Other than that, they were nearly unsupervised.

A cold sense of dread came over Satine instinctively. After all, the past two years hadn’t been light on traumatic events. Surely, their absence was anything but a good sign.

Few else seemed to notice, seeing as most were quite focused one what would surely be a ridiculous presentation from Hondo. Satine had been told that prefects were given the night off for the event, but even then she’d had doubts about ever truly receiving a rest from the responsibility.

“But why talk about this great piece of technology when Hondo can simply show you!” He cheered, still not receiving much from his crowd. It wasn’t like Hondo’s daily lifestyle didn’t completely consist of scams and cons.

However, when reaching into the box and removing something that Satine believed was supposed to be an old stereo system, with a few bright lights attached to it, she was relieved to see that this wouldn’t necessarily be a conquest worth expelling him over.

He flicked his wand as opposed to turning on a switch, seeing as there was no electricity here, and after what had to be a very obnoxious cough, the funnel of the record player portion became a rusted-looking mouth. Immediately after recovering from its stupor, loud music began to pour out of it, accompanied by bright lights that cast off the impression that the room had become a discotheque.

The entire room cheered and dancing resumed even crazier than ever. In fact, Satine was fairly certain it was actually muggle music. She couldn’t name exactly what song it was that played, but seeing as most wizard music included obvious notations and references to magic, this pop-rock song about dancing until the sun rose was quite reminiscent of music she’d hear on the radio during summer road trips with her mum.

“Requests will be accepted at a very reasonable price,” Hondo added into the mic.

Ah, so there was the business perspective.

Satine couldn’t help but laugh. Somebody dimmed the lights to make the flashing colors all the more prominent and somebody else charmed balloons to come raining down from seemingly nowhere.

“It’s about time Hondo did something right,” Aayla said.

“You move pretty quick there, Vos,” Cody commented and it was obvious he was aiming to show off just as much. Quinlan had taken to performing grand stunts in lieu of actual dancing and did so at a rapid speed that made Satine blink.

“Oh can I?” He laughed, “That’s all we do in Durmstrang!”

“Not like the Fetts,” Cody shook his head.

Satine remembered a few headaches happening from all the times the boys tried to do flips and tricks in their backyard. She looked down at the marble floor and grimaced, wondering if she was going to have to perform a head-healing spell on the spot.

“Is that a challenge, I’m hearing?” For extra emphasis, Quinlan raised a hand to his ear.

“It won’t be much of one, seeing as I’m going to win,” Cody announced broadly, which was a bit of a stretch, seeing as Satine had never actually seen Cody truly dance. He’d mostly been jumping up and down all night with his brothers. Save for the aforementioned flips in the backyard, she didn’t really see how he thought he would win this one.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to watch, of course.

“Now that’s more like it!” Quinlan laughed and immediately shed his black robe, “I think it’s getting hot in here.”

“Oh, er- I see you tailored your shirt yourself.” Satine raised her eyebrows at his shirt, or lack thereof for that matter. In lieu of a long-sleeved button up dress shirt, which all of the other boys wore, Quinlan’s shirt was cut rather crudely at the seams where the sleeves should be, revealing his thick and sculpted muscles that were displayed on the daily.

It was a bit much in Satine’s opinion. Could the guy not afford to wear a regular shirt for one night?

“Sure did,” He said and flexed, “Gotta let these bad boys breathe. They were dying underneath that robe.”

Satine winced, “Right, yeah.”

“Nice arms,” Stass blanched and then slapped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

“Thanks!” He winked, fairly unfazed by the slip. “Now, where were we, Fett?”

Off to the side, surrounded yet still very alone, Obi-Wan Kenobi watched as his friends had the time of their lives dancing to an effervescent genre of music that he’d never heard of, basking in the radiance of the changing lights. Most of his Quidditch team had rallied together and all but ditched their own dates, choosing to rapidly spin each other around in circles instead. He was fairly certain Luminara had the right idea in not bringing anyone, because at least she wasn’t leading anyone astray.

Naturally, Gryffindor were the most excitable house, going as far as releasing loud rawrs at the end of each song. Obi-Wan wasn’t so sure that it seemed as intimidating as they believed it to be. Anakin had somehow been released from the shackles of his punishment and was now quite literally surfing the crowd of older students, looking a complete mess in contrast to how prim he’d been before. Nevertheless, the boy was genuinely jubilant and laughing in a way Obi-Wan hadn’t seen in a very long time. He couldn’t find the space in his heart to feel envy towards him for such freedom, because it was more than deserved.

Breha and Bail had since disappeared from the festivities, roguishly calling it an “early night” once Hufflepuff house began to get a little too wild. There was mirth and mischief sparkling in their eyes, though, and Obi-Wan had not the spirit nor heart to stop them. He had no such proof of any funny business and they were both prefects in their own right. They could make their own decisions.

Besides, they would be far from the first, as many couples had a sort of buzzing expectation brimming at the surface, as though something definitive would be happening for them that night. It had mostly gone lost on Obi-Wan, who felt numb to such frenzy and he put as little thought to their stolen glances and touches as possible.

The prefects were, after all, reasonably off duty this evening. Headmaster Yoda had made that very clear, stating that the professors could handle it tonight. Subconsciously, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder if the odds of these sneaky couples were worse. He knew enough to know getting caught by a prefect was one thing, but a professor was a whole other batch of embarrassment.

Even if he wasn’t given the night off, it would be near impossible to focus on snogging couples or even how impressive Hondo’s mysterious music machine was. His eyes, acting on a magnetic pull bore from masochism, surrendered to be taunted by the flurry of red and gold that was Satine Kryze.

Not to mention a rather irritating burning in the pit of his stomach at how close of contact she was with Quinlan Vos, who was now doing flips and cartwheels in competition with his best mate, who was losing terribly if this were by any official merit. Still, he’d silently root for Cody. He always would, but the very fact that he was competing against Obi-Wan’s actual rival secured this position more.

He sneered. Seriously? Did Vos own anything with sleeves? If it wasn’t his arms then it was his exposed chest or abdomen or all of the above. It wasn’t like they lived in a subtropical climate. This was England for hell’s sake! Matter of fact, Vos didn’t even typically occupy warm space. He was from Durmstrang! Near the actual tundra . If there ever was an infraction Obi-Wan wished he could impose with his prefect badge tonight, it was dress code. Honestly, who deemed this proper attire fit for a gala? Such a blatant disregard for propriety made him feel aflame with frustration and nearly tempted to pen a letter to the Headmaster.

And whenever he and Satine so much as touched or grazed against one another out there, Obi-Wan felt as though he might just burn too bright, until remembering himself and snuffing out any flames before they could scorn anyone; until he was the only one deeply singed with equal parts dismay and shame.

It was a hollow sort of humbling to face your own projections in the mirror and he found himself checking his watch, wondering when time would run out.

Like a chilling wind colliding with hapless windchimes in the midst of a blustery winter, Ventress startled him back into reality with her claw digging into his arm tightly. Honestly, he hardly felt it anymore, which he couldn’t derive as a good or bad sign at this point.

“What?” He asked, just now noticing that the Slytherin entourage that had engulfed them in gossip and scandal had all but dispersed to other sides of the room, finding partners or others who would listen to their taunts of poorly dressed attendees.

Ironic, since their comments hadn’t been all that different from Obi-Wan’s about Quinlan, which made his guilt churn deeper in the pit of his stomach. He liked to think that he was simply being jealous and they were just cruel, but intention mattered little when the results were the same.

“Why are you such an imbecile?” She asked expectantly, not caring to give any indication exactly what she was asking or why she was calling him this now.

“I’m not in the mood for riddles, Ventress. Please just come out with it.” He said, taking a tentative sip of his glass in order to have something to do to give him an excuse to look away from her.

She scoffed, releasing her hold on his arm with more force than when she’d grabbed it. “Are you really not going to ask me to dance?”

He was mildly surprised at that and raised an eyebrow at her, “And why would I do that?”

“It’s not as though either of us are swimming in options at this point, Kenobi.” She spat, but he did see her eyes flicker over to the crowd of dancing students. “We should at least look as though we’re having a good time. We look like idiots simply standing here and gawking.”

They stood on the outskirts, not far from the concessions table. He’d been able to get the stain out of his shirt rather quickly from his spill, but that hadn’t made it any less mortifying. The Slytherins Ventress pretended to call friends had found that immensely hilarious. Evidently, prop comedy was their speciality, particularly when he was the prop.

“No one’s watching us,” He pointed out, leaving out the bit that no one cared .

“You’re an arse, Kenobi,” She screwed her already displeasing face into one of disgust. Perhaps, if Ventress didn’t always look ready to rip someone’s head off, she wouldn’t be so foul. However, looking at her in formalwear reminded him of the next occasion they would be expected to dance together and with everything in him, he intended on pushing off that thought as far as it would go.

“I agree,” He muttered, “We’re a match made in hell.”

She watched him warily for a moment, still teaming with obvious antipathy, but there was enough remorse to remind him that Ventress didn’t want this either. She talked the game of it, claiming she had a list of plans that included his hand of marriage. He didn’t doubt that his role was limited and the ruthless Slytherin likely had a death sentence waiting for him eventually, but she still hated this part of it. She hated it nearly as much as he did.

“As much as I enjoy your misfortune, your incessant brooding is rather impossible to take,” She scowled, “And unlike you, I intend on finding fun this evening. It might very well be one of the last times I’m afforded this chance, especially when I’m shackled to you.”

“Hopefully fun that doesn’t involve turning children to stone this time,” He called after her, tipping his glass of punch.

“If I could turn anyone to stone, it would be you.” She hissed as she turned on her heels and stormed away to disappear within the crowd of celebratory students.

“That would somehow be a preferential fate.” He sighed to himself and took a seat, fiddling with his glass.

The music had changed and was no longer causing students to leap up and down raucously. Instead, it was rather slow and romantic. The lights that erupted from the music box had matched it to a soft pink and white. Briefly, Obi-Wan was drawn to the reflections cast on the ceiling, as though they were dancing in their own right.

“Now, boys and girls of all ages, Hondo is going to slow things down a little,” Hondo crooned into the mic, taking his unofficial position as MC very seriously, “But remember, just because the music is slow, doesn’t mean you have to take it slow tonight.”

Obi-Wan cringed and watched as through the means of gravitational pull, dates found each other and met in the middle, clasping hands and waists. It wasn’t any kind of dance Obi-Wan had grown up experiencing, where there was timing and choreography to worry about. It was the sort of dance where everyone simply swayed while holding onto the person they cared for. It was intimate and agonizing to behold from the sidelines.

Who Ventress had managed to goad into dancing with her, he didn’t know and didn’t care to think of it. He glanced over his shoulder to find that the professors were mostly occupied at the front of the hall, likely shoving reporters and press from sneaking in before due time.

He had been horrified to hear that there was a required publicity event at the end of all of this. Where he’d once been under the assumption that he could just leave once the initial dance was over, this was made anything but the case. As far as he knew, this vastly went against tradition and the sanctity of what the ball was supposed to mean to all of them, but more importantly, it required that he stay. He had a nagging suspicion that his parents were involved with this in some way, as Professor Windu had not so discretely muttered frustratingly on Ministry involvement when asked.

Obi-Wan almost wished they would storm in, cameras flashing, just to get it over with. He knew that was selfish, when everyone else was having such a good time, but for him, this ball was turning out to be just as harrowing as he’d expected it to be.

“Boy oh boy is this a fun night!” Anakin chirped happily as he plopped down in the seat next to Obi-Wan. He hadn’t even seen him coming, but he supposed it made sense that Anakin wasn’t partaking in this dance, since he didn’t have a date. He was red-faced and slicked with sweat, his hair completely sticking up at all ends, and was gasping for air with a content smile on his face. Where pieces of his suit had gone was a mystery on its own, but no care was found about it.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Obi-Wan offered, “I thought you’d be stuck handling silver trays.”

“Oh, I got out of that one,” He waved him off easily, trying to steady his breath from all the dancing. “Did you see me out there? They were tossing me in the air! It was awesome!”

“I did,” Obi-Wan relented a small smile at that, “It seemed a bit dangerous to me, but-”

“-You worry too much,” Anakin insisted, but didn’t look bothered by it right now. In fact, Obi-Wan wished he could have the sort of contentment that had overcome his former mentee. “You should have been out there too.”

“Oh, I’m not much for dancing,” He shook his head, trying not to picture with unfortunate clarity holding Ventress in such a manner. The professors certainly weren’t paying close watch, because many hands were wandering.

Anakin gave him a sidelong glance, “You? You were the only one able to opt out of lessons!”

“I know how to dance, but that doesn’t mean I like doing it,” He sighed and treasonously found Satine in the crowd. She and Quinlan were talking amongst themselves, too far away for him to decipher what they were saying. Whatever it was, she smiled and it somehow served as both a weapon and reprieve to Obi-Wan.

He must have been caught in quite the trance, because in what felt like a second, he was blinking rapidly when Anakin waved a hand in front of his face.

“Earth to Obi-Wan?” He asked, leaning forward, a concerned expression replacing what had once been relaxed ease.

“Apologies,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat and lifted his glass, disappointed to find that it was as empty as his intent in using it as a feeble distraction.

“What’s your deal?” Anakin asked, “You’ve been against this ball since it was announced and try as you might to deny it, I can tell something is bothering you.”

That was a bit of an understatement if he ever did hear one, but Obi-Wan merely shrugged and tried to play it off, “It’s the setting. I suppose it's a reminder that my youth is limited and my time at Hogwarts equally as such. Beyond these walls, there’s a future waiting for me.”

“Shouldn’t that be exciting?” Anakin asked thoughtfully.

“For most, yes.”

“But not for you? You’re rich! You’ll get to do whatever you want!” He emphasized, “You won’t have to listen to any professors or do any more homework! Plus, you’ll be an Auror which is super cool.”

When laid out like that, in simple terms, it sounded great, but Obi-Wan would rather maintain what Anakin saw as no freedom in favor of what actually awaited. Still, he wouldn’t be filling him in on the chokehold of the Kenobis, at least not right now.

“Perhaps I should feel fortunate to be so locked in place,” He explained, still not taking his eyes off of Satine as she rocked back and forth, “But with a new future, it means saying goodbye to the past.”

Following his gaze and then looking back at him, before double taking again, a newfound realization bloomed on Anakin’s face before he informally said, “ Oh .”

Obi-Wan turned to him, brow furrowed, “Oh?”

“I see,” Anakin straightened and shook his head, “It all makes sense now.”

“What’s that?”

“ You’ve got the hots for Satine !” He said, much too loudly and Obi-Wan slapped a hand over his mouth indignantly, as though that would somehow undo any damage done. Hesitantly, he glanced up and over at the crowd of teenagers, who were luckily too concerned with their own dealings to pay the resident wallflowers any mind.

“Sorry,” It came out rather muffled against Obi-Wan’s hand and he slowly removed it to reveal a smile that was too smug for comfort, “You like Satine.” He whispered this time, which was a bit much, but more appreciated than broadcasting it to the entire student body.

Honestly, Obi-Wan really believed that at this point, most people knew that, but it had never been put in such obvious verbal terms before. Even Qui-Gon, who had been the first to confront him on this, delivered it with such prose and quandary that it wasn’t so simple. It seemed more complex in his head, but the way Anakin laid it out broke it down to the barest essentials.

Still, there was no point denying it to the boy.

“It’s really a lot more than like ,” He admitted quietly.

“Oh… You mean like-like.” Anakin nodded sagely.

“Something like that, yeah.” He knew which word slid perfectly into place, but wasn’t brave enough to commit to it. Not like this. Not when that would only make it hurt more.

“I knew you didn’t like Ventress!” After getting over the reveal, the younger boy turned to him, “Wait, then why aren’t you with her then?”

“It’s… Complicated.” Obi-Wan said tentatively. He would never get so low that he would resort to ironing all his life’s problems out on a thirteen year old. He knew Anakin was incessant, so he couldn’t very well just send him off.

“Does she not like you back?” He frowned, looking back at where Quinlan stood. “I mean, the guy is tough competition. His arms are bigger than your head.”

“Thank you, Anakin,” He huffed and then shook his head.

“Look, I know something about being rejected,” Anakin swung an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders like they were compatriots in heartbreak. It would have been poetic if it wasn’t so uncalled for. “And it isn’t easy. The best thing you can do is just be friends and move on. I’ve found that surfing a crowd of people really helps. Maybe you should try that.”

“I wasn’t reject- It just wasn’t meant to be is all,” He said a bit forcefully, but even the sudden harshness of his tone wasn’t enough to ward the younger champion away.

“Clearly, she broke your heart, though.” He pointed out, “You’ve been walking funny all month.”

“Walking funny?” Obi-Wan winced. Great, another thing to fixate on in his daily life.

“Not like backwards-funny, but with a little slouch. You know, the kind when you’re sad. It’s never happened to me, because I’m a bit too cool for that, but I’ve seen it before.” Anakin explained, “I just thought you were sore about losing so horribly during the first task. I never thought in a million years it would be girl trouble.”

“I’d like to think it has a little more nuance than that,” Obi-Wan muttered, “Though I cannot deny that it’s at least a component of my strife. Either way, it doesn’t matter now.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Anakin sat forward again, indignant at the assumption, “It’s not like it’s over! Has she even kissed him?”

“I-” Oh how he loathed how he flared at the visual, “That is none of my business. She’s perfectly permitted to kiss whomever she pleases.”

“And that should be you!” Anakin said, “I mean, Ventress is the worst, Obi-Wan. I don’t know what your parents see in her. She turned Rex to stone! She turned Satine into stone!”

“She wanted to turn you into stone,” He added to the list.

“Exactly!” Anakin implored, “You can’t marry someone like that. I won’t let you!”

“It’s not up to you, Anakin, and trust me, there is more to it than you could ever understand.” He insisted, thinking back to the vague threats and what they meant, “Please do not get involved. I made this choice and I must deal with it.”

“But you’re unhappy,” He said, “What’s the point of doing anything if it makes you unhappy?”

“Because everything isn’t about me,” Obi-Wan groaned, feeling exhausted from this conversation. While he couldn’t fault Anakin for not fully understanding, he also didn’t want to talk about this any longer. He knew it was his own fault for wallowing in self pity at such a volume that Anakin took notice, but there was no redeeming that now. “And sometimes, you make choices so that someone else gets to be happy. Because that’s what you do when you… Care for someone a lot.”

“Has anyone ever done that for you?” Anakin asked quietly and cast a glare off in the direction of Satine and Quinlan. “It’s her loss.”

“I find that hard to believe, she’s doing quite fine on her own,” He said, not feeling the same bitterness that he felt earlier. Yes, this was the true nature of letting someone go. It entailed allowing them to be happy with someone else. That was the entire point of doing this, right? He didn’t care about the money or the clout or even the threats on himself. She would go far and shine as bright as she was meant to, casting the world in her warmth.

“She does look lovely this evening,” Obi-Wan added, but turned to find that Anakin had exited as swiftly as he’d entered.

Well, there was no holding that boy down and at least one of them should enjoy this dance.

Anakin would not be dancing anymore this evening. No, he had a different objective at hand, one that Obi-Wan would disagree with on principle, but would be none the wiser to. It made no sense that Obi-Wan and Satine weren’t together. In fact, the more he thought of it, the more perfect that seemed. She was every bit as studious and annoyingly punctual as he was. He supposed she was pretty, but he’d never really thought of her in such a light. It was hard when she was responsible for giving him detention in the past. Some things couldn’t be looked past for the sake of vanity.

If she couldn’t see what Obi-Wan was sacrificing to make her happy, then Anakin was going to make her see. He was going to show her how better off Obi-Wan was without her.

Even if, judging by the way he slumped in his seat, Anakin wasn’t so sure that was true. He’d certainly had better posture when around Satine.

There was also the matter that if Obi-Wan dropped the whole engagement to Ventress, the Daily Prophet might stop talking about it soon enough for him to get the message out about his still very missing mother.

That was a secondary reason right now, though. He’d learned his lesson on trying to manipulate the press for his own advantage on Halloween. If it just happened to work in his favor this time while getting Obi-Wan out of this slump, he’d be happy with that.

Regardless, somebody had to do something. It was the Gryffindor in him to react and the Ravenclaw in Obi-Wan to think. Feelings weren’t something to be thought about, though, they were something to be pursued. If they existed too long in your head, they went nowhere! Even though he’d been stung by Padmé’s rejection last June, he was still glad he’d told her.

He’d briefly considered roping Padmé and her trove of friends into his plans, but not only did he suspect that she would disagree with meddling, he’d already unexpectedly tossed her in the middle of one Skywalker plan this evening. Two felt like pushing it.

However, he knew just who would have a vested interest in this turning out correctly, “Cody!”

“What is it, Skywalker?” He asked.

“I need you and trust me, it’s important.” He practically dragged him away from dancing with his date, who looked quite miffed to be interrupted by a little kid, even if Anakin was a champion.

“Cody!” She complained, “You’ve hardly spent five minutes with me this evening!”

“Sorry, Zam!” He called over his shoulder, “Duty calls. It could be Quidditch business.”

“Are you kidding me? Quidditch is more important than your date?”

“Well… Obviously?” Cody frowned and looked to Anakin for support, who was internally cringing at being in the middle of this debate. The other couples slow dancing around them looked to be having the same secondhand embarrassment.

“Yeah, that was not the right thing to say, mate.” Caleb muttered.

“How dare you!” She shrieked, slamming the heel of her shoe down on Cody’s foot, but did not meet the reaction she’d hoped to. Instead of Cody doubling over in justifiable pain, it was Zam who writhed in pain and Cody who watched in surprise. When he offered her a hand, she swatted him away and hobbled off the floor with a broken shoe in hand. Strangely enough, she hardly looked like a pretty human girl anymore. She looked more like a gray lizard in the face.

“I knew these steeled-toe shoes had a purpose.” He said thoughtfully.

“Did your date just turn into a monster?” Anakin asked.

“Shape shifter.” Cody explained.

“Oh!” He nodded. Yeah, he’d be having questions about that later, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s all good, mate, she didn’t like Quidditch much,” He said, “And that’s non-negotiable. What do you need?”

“I want to get Obi-Wan and Satine together. Before you ask-”

“-I’m in.” Cody nodded firmly.

“Wait, you knew?” Anakin paused.

“Yes, I bloody knew!” He emphasized, “The whole school knows!”

“Really? I had no idea,” Anakin shrugged. “And I’m usually good with these things.”

“You thought Professor Yaddle and Plo were a thing.” He said.

“Only for like… A minute.” Anakin said, “Now I see she has way more tension with Mundi.”

“Anyway,” Cody grimaced, “What’s your plan?”

“Can you get Hondo off stage?” Anakin asked.

They both glanced over to where the Weequay was performing inappropriate thrusts and encouraging everyone to form a “grind train”, which very few actually complied. Of all the things to become lackadaisical about, the professors chose this.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Cody said.

“This song is dedicated to a very special lady, the woman of my dreams.” Hondo read the cue card that Anakin Skywalker had slid him, happily so as the money he had given him was shiny and good, “The one, the only, Asajj Ventress. Love Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Everyone seemed shocked by that, especially as an actual romantic song played, one about thinking a girl was beautiful, kind, and caring. All things that Hondo really didn’t think described Ventress at all. In fact, he flipped the card around to see if it was a joke. Before he could question Skywalker, though, he was already getting his next request and making his next sale.

Maybe Kenobi really had gone insane after that shark attack.

“I should have made more merch,” He said thoughtfully.

He should really know better than to allow himself to fall behind on such golden opportunities.

“I’m sorry, who?” Satine scowled, leaning away from Quinlan and looking at Stass and Aayla in hopes of finding the answer she was looking for. However, both seemed equally confused and keen to keep their focus on their dates.

“I er- didn’t think Kenobi had it in him,” Quinlan coughed, not making any move at asking her to dance again. Maybe it was awkward to just stand in the middle of the floor while everyone else swayed around them under their own personal trances, but Satine didn’t care.

“He doesn’t.” She said flatly, “This smells like his parents, if anything.”

“Would they really be able to do that?” Quinlan furrowed his eyebrows together.

“They’re capable of much worse,” She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, “Honestly, I’m surprised they’re not here somehow. If it weren’t for the rules forbidding it, they likely would be.”

“He’s not even dancing to it,” Quinlan pointed out, “You might be right.”

“And she’s likely off torturing someone,” She scowled. “If it’s not him.”

“You really don’t like her,” He commented, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“Well, apart from her turning me to stone last year, we never really got on anyway,” Satine went on, “She’s cruel and harsh and values the pureblood rhetoric above all else, because it makes her better than everyone in her eyes.”

“Wait, you were one of the victims of that last year?” He asked, eyes wide.

“Yes, but only for a month,” She huffed, “Very nearly let my grades slip because of it.”

“That’s- Still, I’m sorry.”

“Whatever do you have to be sorry for?” She frowned, considering him, “You didn’t do it.”

“No, but…” He sighed, “I thought she could be different. Like maybe she was misunderstood. Clearly, I was very wrong about that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with hoping to see the best in people,” She said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “It only becomes a problem when it eclipses what’s really there.”

She didn’t add that she was learning that lesson the very hard way.

“Yeah, I’m seeing that now,” He said, “I’ll never understand the superficial obsession of bloodline, like that really makes you any better than anyone else. We’re all wizards and witches one way or another.”

“And muggles are powerful in their own right,” Satine added tactly.

“Yeah, they are. My mum's one.” He said with a smile, “And she’s way tougher than my dad.”

“Considering all of your expeditions, she has to be tough as nails to watch you go on them without bursting into hysterics,” Satine said, “I know I would.”

“It comes with the territory. I like saving people,” He shrugged and then saddened as the lyrics to the song seemed to soak into their conversation, trying as they might to avoid it.

“ Bright are the stars that shine

Dark is the sky

I know this love of mine

Will never die

And I love her”

“I guess I wanted Ventress to be like some of those people.” Quinlan said after a long beat, “Which is just… Ridiculous, because you can’t save a person unless that’s what they want and if it’s what they’re meant for.”

“Yeah,” Satine nodded, “I get that.”

“We’ve got more in common than I thought,” He smiled wryly.

“Who would have thought?” She chuckled.

Cody moved through the crowd before barely coming out the other side in one piece. His own house might have had some reservations on his loyalty, but there were certainly a lot of other people that wanted to dance with him. He politely declined and found Kenobi exactly where Skywalker had left him, except this time a piece of pie on the little plate in his hands.

“Drowning your sorrow in sweets, I see.” He commented, taking this opportunity to take a drink of water. They were seated far enough away from the loud music that made it feel like the castle was undergoing an earthquake.

“They certainly didn’t miss on this,” Kenobi said, choosing carefully not to acknowledge Cody’s statement entirely, “It’s even better than the pies served after regular meals.”

“You would know,” Cody offered lightly. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, just living the dream, watching everyone revel in the euphoria only offered by dancing in sweaty, disorganized, chaos that under normal circumstances would grant them several points lost for their respective houses.” He said dryly, “And you?”

“I’m having fun, like I’m supposed to be,” He pointed out.

He sighed and placed his fork down, “Did Anakin send you?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I am allowed to check on my best mate,” Cody smacked him playfully on the shoulder, “You should know that by now, smartass.”

Kenobi smirked a bit, though it didn’t dampen the remorse that emanated off of him, “I don’t need checking on. I’m fine. I’m alive and well. Nothing to report to Madam Nema, that’s for sure. I’m quite sure she’s sick of seeing me at this point.”

“There’s more than one way to not be alright.” Cody said with a weak shrug. He figured his first attempt at getting things into motion should be more transparent. It would be preferable if Kenobi wised up and made this move on his own. It would certainly be a hell of a lot easier. “And I’m not just talking about what happened at Madam Malkin’s or Satine coming to the ball with Vos. You’ve been acting kind of strange all term.”

“I haven’t tried to,” Kenobi faltered, “You know I’m under an immense amount of… Expectation.”

“You can say stress. That’s what it is,” Cody said firmly, “And I think we can stop overlooking the hippogriff in the room here and just say that what your parents want for you is rubbish. They want you to be just like them: cold, angry, and prejudiced and they want their stupid bloodline to match that trend.”

Kenobi didn’t say anything at all, though he didn’t object in the slightest. His jaw tightened as he swallowed and trained his eyes forward. It didn’t appear he was looking at anything or anyone in particular, just focused as though it was taking effort to stay firm in place. Under other circumstances, Cody would find it wrong to meddle, but the moment necessitated it. Beyond just wanting his two friends to talk again, it was feeling a bit like a battle for a soul.

“What’s done is done,” He said. “I will do what I must.”

“No, that’s hogwash, Kenobi!” Cody flared, finding himself growing mad this time. “What you must do is get your head out of your arse before it’s too late.”

“I’ve made up my mind, Cody,” He shook his head loathly, “And I understand the consequences. Just know that I won’t be going back on it. Nothing that you could say will change matters.”

His voice was calm and collected, like he’d somehow prepared for this confrontation. He and Kenobi rarely ever fought and when they did, it never lasted for long. Nobody liked being in a fewd with friends, but this… Cody felt a foreign sense of disgust for his friend.

“So, that’s it, then?” He laughed bitterly, earning his attention, “You’re just going to throw all of this away like it was nothing? Like it meant nothing to you?”

“I never said it meant nothing to me,” Kenobi warned. “Do not put those words in my mouth.”

“But that’s what you’re doing. You like her and you won’t do anything about it because your idiot parents don’t like her for who she is.” He raged, “They’d rather see you with a psychopath!”

“Satine deserves to be happy!” He insisted, breaking the cool exterior he’d crafted, “And I can’t give her that!”

“Why not?”

“Because they would never allow it!” He raised his voice, not enough to draw attention from the partiers, but enough to differentiate that he was losing his composure. “So if that means she goes off to marry Vos and have a bunch of little freakishly muscular babies that never wear shirts and climb mountains, so be it.”

The heat of Cody’s argument deflated as quickly as it had come and not just because of the sheer ludicrousy of that mental image. For the first time, he was considering this from a new perspective altogether. It didn’t sound like Kenobi was just insecure or chickening out at all. In fact, he’d never seemed so sure in himself before.

“What are they holding over you?” He asked, wondering now for the first time if perhaps Kenobi had more motivation to his submission than what meets the eye. To the casual viewer, it seemed as though he melted the moment his parents snapped at him, but maybe…

“What?” He looked startled by that.

“Your parents,” Cody leaned forward, finding a newfound anger for them that he didn’t think was possible, “They're threatening you into this marriage, aren’t they? How?”

Padmé had a feeling Anakin was up to something.

There was a stark difference between the beginning of the ball, where he showed no intentions of leaving her group of friends, to now, where he was nowhere to be found. The perimeter was sealed by the professors that currently argued with the reporters that pressed themselves to windows to get a good look. While over the top, Padmé had to admit that this was the first Yule Ball in a century. No one present had seen what one looked like before except Headmaster Yoda and likely Yaddle.

But Anakin’s rather sudden busyness was anything but typical, at least not with a general purpose. She didn’t want to doubt her friend, but usually, when he was quiet like this, it meant that there was some sort of scheme at play here.

And for what cause, she was unsure, but without Rex present to talk some sense into him, that could only spell trouble. Not that Rex was usually that much of a barrier anyway, but he usually at least kept Anakin from accidentally dismembering himself.

The only downside to coming without a date meant that Padmé had somehow become a bit of a token floater. She was happy for her friends and how happy they all were, not the least surprised when those in denial like Sabé decided to spend ample time with their dates. It was not an unpopular choice to take a brief recess on the courtyard to enjoy the stars and catch some air.

More often than not they returned flushed and holding hands and she doubted this was simply from the cold. New love was blossoming and Padmé was glad to see it in the shining eyes of her best friends in life.

And she stood by her choice not to bring a date along for the ride. She wasn’t in that sort of place and still didn’t believe she’d have more fun with some random boy, but it did get a little awkward when the slow songs came on. Rabé didn’t seem to care to ditch Fenn Rau for the most part, but it was mostly at Padmé’s insistence that she at least stay for some of them.

“Don’t you think he’s received enough rejection lately?” Padmé asked, “You’ve made it clear that you’re here as friends, but dancing with him won’t hurt, unless you really don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” Rabé huffed, “I’d rather be dancing with the likes of Quinlan Vos.”

“Satine somehow secured that one,” Padmé said with a slight smile, still confused about how and when that all went down. Padmé had honestly just assumed that Satine and Obi-Wan would be going together and was gobsmacked like the rest of the school when she appeared on Quinlan’s arm.

All the more shocking was how often Headmaster Ziro kept huddling near Headmistress Nala Se. They were two of the only adults at this point not keeping guard to keep the press at bay. Even Gunray had joined the efforts, hoping to flash some of his ministry charm. Naturally, neither were really focusing on the students and how they were dancing, let alone behaving, and Padmé had a feeling there was a reason for that.

Everyone at Hogwarts thought Ziro was fishy after that big press junket and even more so when Anakin told more people about how Ziro wanted Anakin cut from the competition and tried to bribe Gunray. Obviously, it hadn’t worked, because Anakin was alive and well, but clearly that didn’t mean the Hutt was exempt from suspicion.

So, Padmé lingered as conspicuously as she could manage, grabbing something to snack on as she kept her ears open. Admittedly, with how loud the music had been all night, this was slightly difficult, but not impossible.

“I’m just saying, Headmaster Se, I never took you as one to side with criminals .” Ziro drawled as he dug into a mysterious meat-like dip that had not been an option for the students. “My poor nephew is missing and all signs point to his being here at Hogwarts.”

“And should that be made clear, I will allow my Ministry representative to make such a call, Ziro,” She said coolly, but then again, the Kaminoans were not notorious for emoting the way that humans did. “I sincerely hope for the safe rescue of your nephew.”

“Typical that the Ministry is hardly involving themselves here, probably afraid that they’re to be caught red handed.” He huffed, “But little do they know, is that there are good people who want justice regardless of where the victim is from.”

“I am one of those individuals, Ziro, but I am no crime scene investigator,” She said darkly, “And I hardly find further division to be helpful at a time like this.”

“There wouldn’t be any if this place was safe,” He said, “Nothing of the sort would have happened if this were held at Durmstrang or Beauxbatons for that matter.”

Padmé found that very hard to believe.

“What are you trying to say?” She asked.

“I’m trying to say that we all know that Minister of magic Valorum is a crook and played to his biases. Now look at what’s happened! A child is missing and the least competent contestant won the first task. That cannot be a mere coincidence.”

“I find it best not to underestimate anyone,” She said, “Especially children.”

“But you don’t deny that something fishy is happening here,” He said. “And that’s saying something coming from a Hutt.”

“Indeed.” Nala Se couldn’t help but ponder, “I just hope it’s all in our heads.”

“It isn’t,” Ziro said, “And the reckoning that will come will not spare Beauxbatons should you continue to stand on the sidelines. So, if I were you, I’d make your choice wisely when that time comes. And I’ll tell you what, their precious little chosen one won’t succeed in a minefield absent of cheating.”

Padmé gasped and when this garnered attention, ducked behind a table before they could see her, going as far as climbing under it and out the other side to make a hasty retreat. This looked rather ridiculous in formal wear, but her ears were ringing.

Cheating, Anakin? Clearly, Ziro hadn’t been there through all the countless studying and hard work she and Rex had put in alongside him. Not to mention, while his concern for the little Huttlet was understandable, there was something simply not right about this situation.

No one at Hogwarts would kidnap a child, and what would they even stand to gain from that if they did? It was such a political misstep that no one would make under the assumption that it was a good move. If anything… It would be done because it was a negative one.

Glancing over at Ziro, Padmé frowned. He sure seemed gungho to drive the schools apart. Maybe it was a reaction to his nephew’s kidnapping, but it all seemed a little too coincidental for her. His trying to sway Nala Se to join him was also shady at best. Wouldn’t he care more for finding his nephew than the revenge to be taken afterwards? She didn’t know how those from Durmstrang handled their grief, but she figured they would focus more on finding the little boy first.

She wanted to find Anakin to talk to him about this, but the boy was running all over with the Fetts, seeming to conspire a plan of their own. Somehow, she had a feeling that it wasn’t something they should actually be involved in.

That thought was confirmed to her when he crashed right into her in his haste, sending her flying backwards onto her bum.

“Anakin!” She complained, blowing a hair out of her face. Even the most meticulous spells were no match for the recklessness of Anakin Skywalker.

“Oh! Sorry, Padmé!” He scrambled to his feet, reaching out to pull her back to her own. He held a note behind his back that even from where she sat looked to be in his less-than-excellent handwriting.

“What’s this?” She reached behind him instead, snatching the letter.

“Oh! That’s just a love letter,” He winced, making a move to grab it back, “Not from me or anything, just something I was supposed to deliver.”

“Oh really?” She raised an eyebrow at him, “This is written on a napkin.”

“A fancy napkin,” He pointed out, “And some people don’t want to wait until they find parchment, Padmé.”

“Dear Ventress,” She read, shooting him a puzzled look before continuing, “Some might call you a bitch, but I’d say you’re a pretty hot witch. Your skin is white as a skeleton, and you make some people’s lives hell-a-ton. You’re tough and quite scary, and you aren’t that hairy. My love for you is as big as a house, as opposed to a mouse. I can’t wait to start our new life or call you my frightening wife. Love forever, Obi-Wan”

“Yeah, pretty deep stuff,” He shrugged, stealing the letter back, “Anyway, gotta run!”

“Anakin!” She yelled after him, but had no chance of stopping him. It looked like he’d be going outside the great hall, for what, she wasn’t sure, but she knew it wouldn’t be good.

So, she followed him.

“Come in yet, you cannot,” Yoda insisted for the umpteenth time to the rabid squad of reporters that were desperate to get inside the great hall ahead of their scheduled press junket.

“The invitation specifically mandated that we are not allowed to speak with the champions until 11 pm on the dot, allowing them to first and foremost enjoy this event.” Javis Tyrr was at the front of them, ever the most persistent and argumentative reporter on the scene. “But it said nothing about keeping us locked within a glorified broom closet like slaves!”

That was, of course, a gross overstatement, and some of the less intense reporters seemed to back off at that assertion, though the two individuals beside him seemed just as persistent.

How the Kenobis had managed to convince themselves as viable members of the paparazzi, he was unsure, seeing as they’ve never printed anything publicly. Or at least, he’d thought as much. Naturally, they’d come bearing old newspapers that were passed around pureblood sectors and communities, with some writings that were supposedly penned by them. If Yoda was allowed to make a comment, he’d suggest that they had one of their servants write it for them.

“You’re lucky to be here at all,” Professor Windu said, brow furrowed and patience waning. A few other professors had taken to scattering to the various entrances to the Great Hall, hoping to ensure that no one snuck in.

“Minister Valorum feels that the entire community would benefit from seeing such a merry occasion,” Den Dhur, a wide-lipped Sullustan who worked for the Wizarding Wave , raised his quill in the air, “With the rising tension over Ziro Tiure’s harsh accusations regarding his missing son, do you not agree?”

“I don’t ever recall going on the record, Dhur,” Windu narrowed his eyes and looked at each of them, fixing a particularly stern look at the Kenobis, “Do not forget that you are in this classroom because some of you were caught trying to pull attendees aside.”

Mr. Kenobi scoffed, “And since when is having civil conversation a crime?”

“When it concerns minors and you do not have proper authorization,” Professor Tahl added swiftly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Any real reporter would know that.”

“Ah yes,” The elder Kenobi gave her a onceover, unimpressed with what he found, “The new Head of Ravenclaw house. I see we are continuing quite the trend of mediocrity in that department.”

“I have no remorse in failing to meet your standards, Obi-Diah.” Tahl said, unfazed, though Yoda and the other professors in the room were confused by the sudden familiarity. “And I highly doubt Qui-Gon felt that way either.”

“And what do you even teach?” Mrs. Kenobi cut in, turning her nose down to Tahl.

“Why, I teach music,” She said proudly, of which Yoda was glad.

“Music?” She laughed, which sounded a lot more like an arrogant cluck that was very foreign to her mouth, “What’s next? Basket weaving? Snow angels? Eating and breathing, perhaps?”

Originally, he’d offered her the position of Muggle Studies, to which she vehemently declined. Professor Tahl was formidable and hellbent on bringing a flair of art and open mindedness to Hogwarts. As he looked around the room at the hungry reporters, he was suddenly very glad for her attempts.

“Without Professor Tahl, this ball wouldn’t have happened,” Professor Shaak Ti, unwilling to allow such slander for a fellow Head of House, spoke sharper than usual, “Do keep that in mind and remember that it was because of the former Head of Ravenclaw House that your boy is still alive.”

Neither Kenobi seemed particularly affected by that, though Yoda was sure that if it had been Obi-Wan to meet such a cruel fate on that bridge, every single one of them would be out of a job right now over the hell that the Kenobi’s would rain down over the school. Revenge was very much their way and often, they sought reasons to have it.

“We would never be so crass to insinuate that any professor here at Hogwarts is anything less than necessary,” Perre Needmo asserted smoothly, “But as it were, it would be ideal to get some pictures of the children in action. Everything nowadays is so posed and controlled. The wizarding world needs to see that this is bringing the schools together.”

“Unless you’ve got something to hide,” Challenged Tyrr, raising a manicured dark eyebrow at his own insinuation.

“Protecting our students, we are,” Yoda said, “Comfortable with this, I am not.”

“It isn’t about what you want, Headmaster.” Javis Tyrr goaded, “It’s about what the Minister of Magic believes is right .”

“I cannot help but agree,” Gunray’s warbly voice echoed behind Yoda.

Professor Windu cast a shadowy glare over the Neimoidian, “When did you get in here?”

“Oh! Locking out even some of your own professors, are you?” Mrs. Kenobi asked with mock despair.

“Standing guard of the courtyard doors, you should have been,” Yoda ignored her.

“So much for security then.” Huffed Mr. Kenobi.

“No one is inside watching the children and what they’re doing!” Complained Gunray, “I decided to come looking for help! You should see the obscene dances taking place! Hondo Ohnaka brought his own cursed contraption to come play the devil’s music.”

“What kind of show are you running here, Yoda?” Dhur asked.

“Be right there, we will,” Yoda said and then looked over to the reporters, “Charmed, the doors are. Let in without permission, you will not be allowed.”

And despite Windu’s clear hesitance, all the professors vacated the room.

“He is most definitely hiding something.” Snarked Tyrr.

“At least we’re getting closer to the action.” Needmo sighed.

“Do you want to get closer?” Anakin Skywalker suddenly appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“A hero to the last, my dear boy,” Mr. Kenobi smiled. “Lead the way.”

The mood on the dancefloor had definitely taken a turn that Satine had no problems distancing herself from for the time being. Couples were getting a bit too frisky behind her and still Satine felt as though her limbs and heart were buzzing when she exited the perimeter and could once again hear her own thoughts.

The air tasted sweeter somehow, maybe because it was absent of several bodies bumping and brushing against each other, sharing the same space and air around them. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until cool water touched her lips. From there, it seemed she couldn’t get enough.

“I don’t know what Obi-Wan sees in her.” She overheard Anakin as he talked, loud as usual, to Echo, at the end of the table.

“I mean… She can’t be all bad. If you close your eyes and your ears,” Echo laughed a little bit and took a swig of her own drink.

Satine couldn’t seem to close her own ears, though, because as much as she knew this conversation would only bring about more needless trouble for her vulnerable heart, she still found herself leaning into it. What was the matter with her? She had been having a good time and shouldn’t forget that.

“But he seems to have really come around,” Anakin put hard emphasis on the word “really” as though he were trying to drill it through his listener’s head, “Like he seems way happier than he was like… a few weeks ago.”

“You don’t say?” Echo asked, a bit wary.

“Yeah, I heard they’re planning on sneaking out to find a corner to snog in later.” Anakin added.

“I guess Kenobi likes them bad, who'da thought?”

“Not me, but I guess the press was onto something,” Anakin said, “He looks way better and happier and not miserable with Ventress. I think it’s the fact that she’s got really sharp teeth and wears her makeup all dark and scary.”

“That… Can be a turn on for some,” Echo shrugged, “You think he’s going to take her back to his dorm tonight?”

“Er, yeah, I do.”

Satine’s hand wrapped so tightly around the glass in her hands that she risked shattering it. Viciously, the logical part of her brain scrambled for evidence that everything they currently said was a farce, starting with the fact that this was an incredibly random point of conversation for the two. It seemed a bit convenient that they waited for Satine to arrive to discuss it.

Not to mention, when she glanced over to find Obi-Wan, he was standing off to the side, talking vehemently with Cody about something that she doubted had anything to do with Ventress. The woman in question was cackling quite vocally at one of the poor waiters slipping and ripping his pants.

No, this was a ruse, and it was hurtful just how intentional it was. This was an attempt at upsetting her, but for what? What had she done aside from being foolish enough to allow her heart to be broken in such a way? Why was that cause for furthering her suffering?

And the worst part of all, no matter how poorly constructed this idea was, since Anakin Skywalker was as discreet as a giant purple toad, it was working! She was cringing and aching at the visual of Ventress grasping Obi-Wan’s hand in her clutches. It was the hand that he was promised to take, the hand that would be locked in place for as long as they lived, but there was nothing holy nor ceremonious about it. It seemed sick.

And she felt bad for him. Still. After all of this.

Anger coiled through her, which was a welcome change, as anger was a controllable emotion and it eclipsed the lingering sadness that tinted her gaze, even when she didn’t pay it any mind.

She marched with purpose back towards the dancefloor, ignoring Cody as he’d leapt from his seat, chasing after her in order to get her to come back and talk to Obi-Wan. As though that would make any bit of a difference.

Perhaps it was unfair, but she was suddenly mad at him too. He knew how upset she’d been and he was still trying to make her meet Obi-Wan halfway? She’d been standing in the middle this entire time, often reaching beyond that line, hoping to bring him closer.

“Let go of me, Cody, I am not in the mood,” She said sternly, and maybe it had been unfair, but she had a feeling he was planning something of his own accord. She understood why he wanted them to get along, but now was not the time.

“Satine, wait-” He asserted, “You gotta talk to Kenobi-”

“-I think Obi-Wan should be seeking out his own date. Anakin certainly has nothing but good things to say about how happy they are.” She snapped.

“This is all just a big misunderstanding,” He insisted, though he did look confused by that.

“Really? And where have you been the past seven years?” She scoffed, “Or the past month, for that matter?”

Her eyes flashed over to Obi-Wan, who was watching from afar, studying their interaction, and she trained her expression to be as neutral as possible. She knew he was reading her lips and she let him.

“He’s communicated his point very clearly,” She said, “And it sounds like he’s having Anakin and your brothers do the same.”

With that, Cody dropped her hand and she stormed onto the dancefloor and rejoined Quinlan and the girls. She would not be indulging in this matter any longer for the rest of the night.

Cody really wasn’t a major fan of dances to begin with. It was fun when it was all leaps and flips like it had been when he and Vos had their dance-off (which ended in a draw, if you asked him), but then Hondo started taking all of those requests from lovestruck couples that just wanted to be pressed close to one another. Dume had been amongst that lot, practically glued to Hera’s side for the entirety of the evening. If they stayed that way for any longer, he feared they might truly glob together to form one hybrid being.

Then again, Hera was a mean Quidditch player. Her influence might be better for the squad.

He shook that ridiculous thought away and focused. Skywalker might have been a bit impetuous and inane at times, but the kid had gumption. It was that sort of determination and spunk that landed him on the squad so early. It was also what would make him a great leader one day. However, right now, it was his aligned interests with Cody’s that propelled them onto the same page.

And when he’d agreed to talk to Obi-Wan and Satine to try to get them closer together, he didn’t realize what exactly Skywalker had up his own sleeve. Judging by how upset Satine had been, it wasn’t productive. Really, he should have known better than to let the kid go freestyle.

Luckily, his brothers were having equally poor luck with their dates, having forgotten several times which they’d deigned to take. It didn’t help that Ann and Tann both caught the other set of twins switching vests and ties as though that were an option.

Of all people capable of telling Echo and Fives apart, it would be another set of identical twins. Either way, he advised them to drop whatever Skywalker had planned and to follow him. Family loyalty always came first, so this wasn’t hard to do. They knew better than to object to Cody when he was in strategy-mode. It was a bit like cultivating a playbook, but with many more moving pieces.

“This isn’t going to be like that time we tried to get mum and dad back together, is it?” Fives asked.

Cody cringed, “That was Hevy’s plan, so no, nothing of the sort.”

“Okay, then we’re in,” Echo said, “Hopefully nothing catches on fire this time.”

They played their part amiably, leaping on stage as though they were going to make a suggestion like the other blokes that had done so, only to yank Hondo off the stage with one swift tug, sending him flying. That much had been in line with Skywalker’s plot. The intention had been for Hondo to be caught by Shahan Alama, his technical date, but Shahan was at the concession stand eating what appeared to be a donut.

Probably because Hondo wasn’t sharing the tips he’d been receiving from the machine that he and Shahan had procured.

“Eh, you can walk that one off,” Cody called after Hondo twitched on the ground. Before anyone could grow too concerned, Cody flicked his wand so that the music was blasting something infectious and worthy of a rave once again. At least people took care to dance around Hondo’s corpse.

Eventually, Shahan did come along and dragged him off the floor. Hondo waved around to assure everyone he was alright. He definitely seemed a bit dazed, but his legs were moving at their own accord.

“No blood, he’s fine,” Echo waved it off as he rejoined Cody, “You’re on, mate.”

“Fives knows his part?” Cody asked.

“He’s on it, Captain,” He nodded at where his twin brother was currently challenging Quinlan Vos to a dance battle of his own. The pretty boy couldn’t resist a challenge, that much was obvious, and Fives’ assertion was no different. It made Cody smile how predictable the enemy could be.

“Alright then, that leaves you to your very important task that this entire thing is weighed on. Don’t make me regret it.” Cody said as he moved towards the stage.

“Already on it,” Laughed Echo, who didn’t have nearly as much at stake through all of this, “I enlisted some of Ravenclaw’s best for that.”

“Subcontracting on me, huh?” Cody teased.

“I’ve learned from my big brother.”

He’d never been a DJ before, but he decided now was likely the best time of any to gage some life experience in that realm. He did give himself some time to tinker around with the crazy do-hickey that Hondo had managed to sneak within the walls of Hogwarts and charm to work. The flashing colors were a bit much, so Cody turned those down so it was less likely someone accidentally went blind.

Before long, he was able to sort through the menu of songs and was pleased to find exactly the one he’d been looking for.

And Satine said he wasn’t grand with technology.

“Alright, Yule Ball-ers, how about we cut this sappy stuff and mix things up a little bit.” Cody, apparently the new DJ, said into the mic. Unlike Hondo, everyone turned their attention to regard him, though Satine didn’t miss how a few members of Gryffindor rolled their eyes a bit at his takeover.

Despite this, his interruption earned him an overwhelming sense of applause from the crowd, mostly from the boys, and he pumped a fist into the air.

And with that, he turned on a rather whimsical and energetic instrumental song that he had to have learned from some of the Beauxbatons girls that evening. It was called, “Le Changement De Dames” and while elegant to match the formality of the spirit surrounding the ball, was essentially a big party game played in Old France.

“And I mean that literally,” He said, “At the turn of the beat, swing those partners out and grab a new one. Fellas, don’t take it personally if your lady tosses you extra quickly. We could all use something different tonight!”

Naturally, it was a bit rocky in the beginning since those from Durmstrang and Hogwarts weren’t fluent in the dance, causing for some blunders to occur. Namely, she noticed poor Stass had been flung straight into Hondo, who had just acquired his balance, sending them both to the ground.

She was surprised such a fate hadn’t fallen upon her, but she was lucky enough to be around the Durmstrang boys who despite lacking the grace of Beauxbatons boys, were steady and capable of maintaining balance.

Satine was pleasantly surprised in Cody’s dance of choice, as it was certainly a decent opportunity to spread everyone around and break people out of their shells. While dancing with Sebulba, even for all of a few seconds, was abhorrent and she’d never want to do it again, she had met some new people along the way.

At the very least, it encouraged those who only hung in certain circles to branch out and talk to other people. That was supposed to be the entire point of the social function. It was all the more funny to create snippets of conversation with each person.

It meant putting your best foot forward throughout the course of the entire dance.

It was exhilarating, really, and a major mood improvement. It wasn’t strictly just boys and girls partnered together, either. She’d ended up getting swung around by none other than Hera Syndulla at one point.

“This isn’t exactly how it’s done in France,” She laughed.

“Oh no? A bit too rowdy then?” Satine smirked.

“Very much so,” Hera said. “But I love it!”

Where Cody was involved, it was always bound to be more exciting. Immediately after dancing with Hera, who based on the strength at which she launched Satine, was very suitable to be competing against the boys in this tournament, she was met with Hondo Ohnaka, who seemed to have recovered remarkably from his blunderous fall.

“You alright, there, Hondo?” Satine asked.

“Hondo always ends up on top, Head Girl!” He said brightly and looked around them, “Hondo should thank Fett for thrusting him into this dance! Many ladies are on the prowl tonight.”

Satine took the liberty of twirling him away from her.

From there, she was met with Fenn Rau, which a year ago, would have been very awkward, but now, seemed like a distant memory of miscommunication. Well, or so she thought.

“So, you and Vos, huh?” He asked.

“Er, we’re friends,” She said.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you said that,” He laughed awkwardly.

Satine was relieved these bouts of dance were quick, because she honestly did not know what she was supposed to say to that. Luckily, she was paired with one of the twins after that. It wasn’t until Fives started to brag about how he would have beat Quinlan in the dance battle if he hadn’t been interrupted, that she figured out which one.

Caleb Dume caught her after that and she realized she was swimming amongst the Gryffindors somehow now. It was strange since the dance itself had no rhyme or reason for who ended up with who. You simply caught who was near you and went from there. It was then that she wondered what would happen if there was an odd number amongst them. Maybe that’s why Cody had opted to sit this one out.

“Having fun tonight?” Caleb asked, though his eyes always searched the crowd for Hera. It was cute how smitten he was.

“I know that you are,” She smiled teasingly.

“Am I that obvious?” He asked, looking down at her.

“Only a little, but it’s okay, I think she is too.” Satine grinned.

The beauty of this dance, aside from requiring no real finesse or knowledge of formal dance despite appearing quite elegant, was that it didn’t allow her the space of time to feel melancholy and wonder what that level of open happiness feels like.

Instead, she was whisked off to her next partner, who grabbed her by the hand with such force that she was surprised to find that it was a girl who did as such. She blinked at Zam Wessell, who was a different shade than when she’d arrived, with dark eyes and darker hair. Her cheeks were so red they looked painted on and her glare was lethal.

“Do you know why Cody is a rat bastard?”

“I suspect you’re going to tell me,” Satine cringed.

“He left me! For that little Skywalker brat!” She scoffed.

“That is a pretty poor exchange,” Satine quipped, “I am so sorry. He doesn’t know much about dating. I hadn’t realized he had an interest at all, come to think of it.”

“Oh he’s interested alright, just not for himself.” She said.

Satine didn’t get to find out what that meant either, but was relieved to be in the arms of Ryder Azadi, who was gleeful and spirited as she preferred in her temporary partners. Zam, for her part, was whisked into Faro Argyus’s embrace. Poor girl. She heard from Aayla that Miraj was telling everyone that Faro had eaten far too much dragon tartare, which was known for giving one horrendous breath.

“Kind of a mixed bag, huh?” He laughed.

“You’re right about that,” She laughed as she matched his fast and steady footwork. Each person had their own way of leading, but the Quidditch players were always formidable to keep up with, though not without their own grace.

“I just got paired with Ventress,” He winced, “I think my shoulder is bleeding.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Satine shook her head, “I’m surprised she’s dancing at all.”

“Well, everyone is,” He said, before twirling her into the next set.

She was starting to feel guilty for her anger at Cody not long ago. While unfair to him, she hoped he would understand the reason behind her misdirection. Here he was, just trying to bring everyone together for a good time without any ulterior motive-

And any further thought on her shame was crudely interrupted when she passed none other than Asajj Ventress, herself, who whether she overheard Satine’s conversation about her or not, smugly stretched out her leg and tripped her, sending Satine hastily spiraling.

Bitch.

She was sure to hit the floor in clumsy abandon until a strong and steady arm reached around and caught her from around the waist, bringing her back up swiftly while instilling her balance and then turning her nimbly in his arms to face him.

“Thank-” Her already rapid pulse only accelerated into overdrive until halting all at once when she met Obi-Wan Kenobi’s clear gray eyes.

“That wasn’t nice,” Quinlan Vos said rigidly.

“What? She already had her turn with you. Is it not the point of this dance to try different partners?” Ventress asked coyly.

“The point is definitely not to sabotage another person’s date, particularly a person that isn’t supposed to mean anything at all to you.” He said.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re upset, Vos,” She said, allowing herself to be glided along in his strong arms. “It’s not a bad look on you.”

“I don’t align myself with hurtful people, Asajj,” He argued.

“Really? Because you seemed pretty keen on aligning with me all year long,” She said, “Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were trying to sign up for.”

“I didn’t know you were truly that cold,” He said, “Because I know what it’s like to be branded as the loose cannon and the jerk because of actions that I didn’t fully make of my own accord.”

“What happened to you?” Ventress finally asked, visibly less pleased by his own discontent.

“It doesn’t matter to you,” He insisted harshly.

“Why’s that?” She asked, “If we’re so alike, shouldn’t I know how beyond your vague assertions of understanding me? You’ve no right to feel betrayed by me when you’ve hardly shared anything about yourself. And now you insist you have this dark past, it’s a bit pathetic.”

“You did just try to hurt my date.” He offered.

“You don’t care about Kryze,” She rolled her eyes.

“I care about people in general, which seems to be a lost concept of yours, or at least you want people to think that it is.” He said. “And the reason it doesn’t matter is because we’re about to switch partners.”

He was about to do just that until Cody’s loud voice and the halt of the music altogether showed signs to other plans. How long had they been dancing? Why did time with Ventress pass so quickly when it moved like a slow stream with everyone else? Even with Satine, who he was beginning to enjoy being around quite a bit.

“Alright now, folks, times up! We’re going to slow things down. Hope you picked a good one, because that’s your partner for this little ditty.” Cody said cheerfully as he played a slow song and dimmed the lights.

“Damn you, Cody.” Quinlan muttered.

“Ah, well, it seems like we’ve suddenly been granted more time,” Ventress smiled slyly, which if he weren’t so appalled of her approach to this arranged marriage and the torture of her classmates in general, he might have found attractive.

Still, being so close to her and looking in her eyes, Quinlan saw what he did that first time he’d seen her. Like she wasn’t everything she was trying so desperately to be. She was forged by cruelty and maybe even raised in it, and with every day, she wanted to be like that, but it wasn’t the real her.

At least not deep down.

“Before I started to follow my father on expeditions around the country, hunting large beasts that were terrorizing towns and putting out fires amongst other things, I helped with an undercover job that involved breaking up a gang in St. Petersburg. A lot of people were missing and the Hutts swore this had Black Sun written all over it.”

Ventress furrowed her brow, “Why pick some kid?”

“Because I was a champion marksman, combat fighter, and charming above all else.” He waited for her to roll her eyes at that, but she didn��t, so he continued, “And they wanted to see if I could pull anything from the kids of these mob bosses. People my own age.”

“Were they wizards?” Ventress asked.

“Oh yeah,” He nodded, “And it was fine in the beginning. They started me out on small stuff before I earned their trust. It wasn’t until I was too deep that I realized they were using the imperius curse on those that disappeared, making them do some nasty stuff to keep their hands clean. I thought I was a good actor at 15, but I wasn’t good enough.”

He swallowed hard, “And let me tell you, that imperius curse is no joke. It’s like the cognizant part of my brain is still there, but locked behind a one way mirror, where I can see what I’m doing but have no bearing on it. It’s insane and torturous.”

“That is not like me,” Ventress said in a low voice, “I was under no such curse ever.”

“Maybe not,” He said darkly, “But I was under the imperius curse for a full year. It’s why I’m a year behind in school. I was so absorbed in the terrible awful things they had me do that… I began to like that sort of power that I had.”

“I can’t picture that,” She said.

“Well you better,” He said, “I liked being the scary guy in the room. I liked it, because it was the only way for me to survive. I kissed darkness every night so I could maybe see light one day. And at one point, they thought they didn’t need to curse me at all anymore.”

He breathed heavily, trying desperately to revisit some of the breathing instructions his mother had walked him through. To find his serenity.

“This is why I only chase beasts now,” He said, “Because I was one for a year. And I’m never going back to that.”

Ventress just stared up at him, looking up at him through wide blue eyes, not afraid like the others he’d told this story too, but in understanding, “Who was he?”

“Who?” He asked.

“The person that did this to you.” She said, “The person who cursed you.”

After a long pause that passed between them, Quinlan answered her, “My uncle.”

The heat of their stare had been palpable and too spontaneous for either to put up their own respective guard and for a moment, the effects of gravitational pull were almost too much to withstand.

Whatever moment had passed between them in the fleeting seconds that should have been but of passing ships in the night, had effectively been shattered when the music starkly changed, and the lights went low and full of purpose, and the soft piano prelude that promised a mournful song of romance and tragedy played for all to sway to. Instead, Satine detached herself from him and looked away, as though he was poison and she couldn’t bear the thought of being within his sight.

He wished he had such a reaction to her, but try as he might, she was beautiful and even more so up close. He’d deliberately tried not to fixate on such a fact this entire evening, though failed on multiple occasions. None of those instances had nearly been as debilitating as breathing the same air as her and feeling the lingering touch of her hand on his arm.

It had been on instinct that he caught her. He’d forgotten everything else, really.

Instead, they stood for a moment, allowing the music to serve as a terrible distraction, as the lyrics were a bit too familiar to ignore. While everyone else swayed around them with their new partners, they stood awkwardly in front of each other, not touching but not far.

It might as well have been miles away.

“ A life goes by

Romantic dreams must die

So I bid my goodbye

And never knew”

Looking up at where Cody very obviously watched from his own spot on stage, Obi-Wan sighed. No, this was certainly not an accident by any measure.

“He’s not very conspicuous.” Obi-Wan finally spoke.

“No, he’s not.” Satine said and it wasn’t lost on him that this was the first thing they’d agreed upon all month. Then again, he could count on one hand how many times they’ve even spoken this month. They all played in his head on an unfortunate replay and compared quite negatively to memories that extended further. Memories where she looked at him with such light that he was a damn fool to fail to see its spark.

But then again, Obi-Wan had always been a fool.

“Would you like to dance?” He finally asked, looking around them uncomfortably.

She turned her head to him again, but without truly meeting his eyes. Doing so, it seemed, was a bad idea, and she chose to cling to the bitterness that flowed off of her in waves. He knew he deserved it, but he couldn’t help himself.

“So, you are capable of asking.” She said coldly, though perhaps due to how often they were getting bumped into by other couples, she did hesitantly accept his hand.

He deserved that comment too, but his tongue seemed to think otherwise, “Clearly, you haven’t needed me to dance. You were doing quite well for yourself.”

She glared at him, “If you’re looking for objection from me, I suggest you look elsewhere. I won’t be stroking your ego. Not tonight and hardly not ever.”

“It was merely an observation,” He relented, “Even if a bit of a stupid one.”

“Sure it was,” She shook her head, diverting her gaze outward again, and even in their arguing, they still slid into a motion so steady and so natural that it came as easy as breathing. He didn’t falter once and led with grace and stability. Despite her strong will and obvious displeasure about dancing with him, she followed him with such poise that it was difficult to determine where she ended and where he began.

He twirled her, feeling the tension expand across his chest and collide with the intoxicating sensation of being so near to her, of holding her hand, of catching her. Despite himself, he tried to remember all of it, because he knew with acute pain that this would likely be the very last time such a thing happened.

“I haven’t seen much of you.” He tried, “Or talked, I should say. Not since…”

“Right.” She nodded, “Well, I’ve been busy.”

“I’m sure.” He said, “I have too.”

“Wedding preparations are quite time consuming.” She reminded him.

“I was referring more to the tournament where someone wants me killed.” He gritted. Did Satine have to make everything so difficult? He was trying to be cordial.

“That’s practically the same thing,” She said. “How’d they even get you to dance?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was literally dragged by the Quidditch team?”

“Yes,” She answered curtly. “I would absolutely believe that.”

Another long moment passed between them and he was trying very hard not to take her coolness as cruelty.

“You look beautiful.” It tumbled out of his mouth before he thought better of it. Mainly because it wasn’t exactly difficult to notice this. Anyone with eyes had to know Satine was the most beautiful girl here, not that it was a competition.

“Another stupid observation?” She parried, not impressed by the half of his attempts at smoothing the water between them.

“Hardly,” He scoffed, “More of a fact than anything.”

“And Ventress?” She asked.

“Ventress?” He frowned.

“Is it a fact that she’s beautiful as well, or do you merely speak these words through the voice of your mentee to get a rise out of me?” Her eyes were hard as stone and now it was he who wanted to look away in the midst of their dance. As usual, he could do no such thing, instead displaying the very confusion that he felt.

“I honestly have nothing to say to that.”

“Typical.” She shook her head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Satine.” He insisted, “Really.”

“Whatever,” She shook her head, “It hardly matters anyway.”

“I think it matters a little, if it plays any part as to why you refuse to even glance my way this entire evening,” He said.

“Do not presume that you are completely ridden of blame for that fact, even if it was merely Anakin’s shenanigans.” She said tightly. Even so close, she was still avoiding him. That distance pained him more, regardless of their direct proximity.

“Do you really think so low of me?” He asked, finding indignance even in the space of his heartbreak.

“Forget it,” She said, choosing to ignore him. He wouldn’t have it.

“I would never try to hurt you. Not intentionally. I’ve been your friend for how long and you don’t know that?” He said, whether for her own knowledge or his own.

“It would be easier not to.” She said. “And you know something of doing what’s easiest.”

It didn’t matter what happened. He felt as though he knew her heart, at least in this present moment. It was what he valued most in her above all things, but right now, it seemed she doubted his own.

She had to know it belonged to her. Truly, how could she not?

“How could you ever think that this is easy?” He asked, practically begged.

She didn’t answer him, tightness gripping at her shoulders, but this rigidity never reflected in how her hands held his. Instead, she retained her gentleness. There was so much she wanted to say, but she held back. He hated that.

“As friends-” He tried again, only to be cut off almost immediately.

“Is that what this is? A dance amongst friends?”

“I thought that was obvious,” He stated.

“Really? Could have fooled me.” She put him to silence once again.

“So close to reaching

That famous happy end

Almost believing

This one's not pretend

And now you're beside me

And look how far we've come

So far we are, so close”

An upbeat instrumental interlude swelled between them and in a perhaps ill-fated attempt at reminding them both just how in tune they both were with the other, he twirled her, catching her before she could go far and swooping them into broader steps that turned them both across all corners of the floor. The anticipation that they would always find the other after every turn or step.

“Regardless of all this nonsense, I care about you.” He said before they continued to follow the steady uplifting bridge.

It was the very nature of how upbeat the turn in music became that made it so mournful, like the high before the fall, and it was as epic as it was torturous. Neither moved away from it and neither stepped a hair out of line. Every other face in the room became faceless.

They were so ingrained in the movement of the song, bewitched by each other’s stare, and forgetful of their present situation, that in the pinnacle of the climax of the song, where the lyricist sang of facing empty days ahead without his beloved, that Obi-Wan easily lifted her into the air, not like she was a star, but the very moon above.

He vaguely heard the sound of distant applause but paid them no mind as he maintained their position, until gradually and carefully bringing her back down to earth. He could not help the skip of his heart when she grasped his shoulders for purchase on her way and when their eyes were at level for just a moment, and they were both gasping for air.

“I care about you too,” She looked up at him, an openness that very nearly swallowed him up and sucked him into her orbit. For then, they were just Obi-Wan and Satine and the future wasn’t chasing after them with rapid abandon. Right now, they were as young as they’d ever be and as old as they’ve ever been.

Right now, there was just them.

“And that’s why it’s hard.” She added quietly.

He opened his mouth to say something even more foolish, something that would have damn near ruined everything he’d already committed to doing. And he would have, damn himself, if it hadn’t been for the reality-crushing influx of flashing cameras and bright lights washing the entire great hall in their wake of desperation for a reality that never would be truly real.

And his own intentions were without thought, stepping away ever so slightly from her, which made Obi-Wan realize the true downside to being so close was seeing the shift in her eyes. The disappointment.

He bowed curtly and she curtsied and even though he shouldn’t, he watched her back away into the crowd, before it inevitably consumed him with questions.

A familiar claw dug into his arm.

“Anakin!” Padmé called his name and he’d really love to stop and talk with her, but he had to be focused! He had a mission after all, and certainly Obi-Wan would thank him afterwards.

If there was one thing he’d learned from movies it was that jealousy could prompt girls to realize their love. It was a fool proof plan, Satine would be jealous and confess to Obi-Wan and then all would be well and his mentor would be in his debt. There was no way it could fail-

A hand wrapped its way around his arm and he felt himself be dragged up into an empty carriage. He was pointing his wand quickly, eyes narrowed until he caught Padmé’s wide brown eyes.

“Padmé!” He whined tucking his wand away, “I almost stunned you!”

“Sorry!” She winced, “I didn’t mean to alarm you, but you wouldn’t stop!”

“Well it’s fine since it’s you,” He brushed it off easily, “But of course I wasn’t going to stop! There’s too much to do!”

Padmé made to stop him before he could even think about making a run for it, “Oh no. You’re not getting away that easily!” She chastised, “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Alright!” Anakin sighed sitting back on the seat across from her, “You can’t tell anyone, this is top secret,” He whispered over to her and she leaned in to hear better.

“Okay,” She agreed with a nod.

“Obi-Wan like-like’s Satine,” Anakin explained wisely, and Padmé it seemed had been stunned to silence, “I know I couldn’t believe it either-”

“You mean you didn’t know?!” Padmé broke in, “Anakin everyone’s known about that! Longer than even I’ve been in school!”

“What?” Anakin blinked at her eyes wide.

“I thought they were an actual couple until last year. Hondo’s been running a betting ring since their second year!” She placed her hands on his shoulders and shook him a little, “How did you not notice? They’re always together!”

“I just thought they were friends!” he defended himself with a soft embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks, “Wait what does that mean for Cody? Are they all snogging?” Anakin asked hurriedly, “Do you think Rex thinks I’m into him? Because he’s my best mate, but I don’t want to lead him on!”

“No!” Padmé ran her hands across her face, “Stars Anakin!”

“Hey, romance isn’t my strong suit!” He covered his face with his hands and Padmé laughed.

“Okay, yeah, I’m sorry!” She shook her head, “I’m really just surprised! I thought you knew! Especially when you told us about the Amortentia potion lesson.”

Anakin’s mouth fell open, “OH! That’s why he smelled her perfume!”

“Yes that’s why-” Padmé shook her head, “ Anyways , how does this tie into you running around like a loon?”

“Oh right!” Anakin snapped back easily, grinning wickedly, “Well Obi-Wan’s upset and it’s obviously because he had to bring Ventress. I’d be pretty upset about that too,” He grimaced, “I figured if I make Satine jealous-”

“You’re trying to do what?!” Padmé gasped, “Anakin! Their situation is highly nuanced, you can’t just fix things with a bit of jealousy! You’re likely only making it worse…”

“How so?” Anakin did consider that his actions were making Satine more angry than jealous, but he figured she’d come around.

“Obi-Wan failed to ask her to the ball, not to mention he’s been secretly engaged,” Padmé sighed, “I feel sorry for her, to like someone who you can’t have, it’s quite a sad situation.”

Anakin was quiet as he looked at Padmé, he could relate then, to Satine’s plight. He felt similarly after all. He was infatuated with Padmé who had made it clear that they were merely friends, he remembered the sting. Although he had grown past it, it was clear Satine hadn’t yet and he frowned.

“How should I make it up to her?” He asked seriously and Padmé just tilted her head, a stray brown hair brushing her shoulder.

“I think it’s best to simply stay out of it for now,” She frowned, “She needs space.”

“Damn, I feel like such a fool,” He admitted and Padmé just smiled, standing up to sit next to him instead.

“You were just trying to help,” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Next time, just ask me before-”

Before she could finish the door to the carriage was practically wrenched open and both of them froze as an irritated, slightly sweaty, Mace Windu gave them his best glare.

“Skywalker, Amidala,” Padmé’s arm ripped itself away from his shoulders as if she’d been burned, “The carriages, along with other secluded locations, are off limits .”

“We were only talking Professor,” Padmé practically leapt out the door, face burning, “we weren’t doing anything else .”

Windu didn’t look impressed so Anakin came to her rescue like any gentleman should do.

“You thought we were snogging?” Anakin laughed as he jumped down next to her, “I think Padmé has higher standards than me Professsor!”

“What am I to expect from two students so eager to hide away?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You should assume the best of people!” Anakin chirped in response.

“I suppose there’s no proof-” Windu started and Anakin cut him off.

“No proof because nothing happened!” Anakin reiterated, “Tell you what? You can be the first to know when I find myself a hot date!”

“I’ll pass, Skywalker,” Windu turned then to Padmé who still looked worried, “I expect you to avoid further miscommunications if you are still interested in becoming a prefect, Miss Amidala.”

“Of course, Professor!” She managed, “I won’t let you down!”

“Good, now go, I have other couples to catch,” He shooed them towards the Great Hall and Padmé was off in a hurry. Anakin scurried quickly behind her.

“That was close!” Padmé breathed.

“Aw you know Windu’s always looking to punish me,” Anakin shrugged, “He’d have let you off easily, saying I seduced you or something!”

Padmé giggled, “I doubt Professor Windu’s ever uttered the word before.”

“Yeah you’re right,” Anakin laughed.

“I will have you know,” Padmé relaxed as they stepped back into the warm Great Hall, “That my standards aren’t too high, they’re just right, thank you!”

“I dunno,” Anakin grinned, “I didn’t see you come with any date.”

“Oh come off it, I just thought it would be more fun with friends,” She smiled, “I don’t really regret it, it’s been a wonderful evening.”

Anakin opened his mouth to reply, but he caught his tongue. From across the room the paparazzi swarmed around the other champions and Anakin froze.

“Oh right, I forgot about that.”

Well it had been a nice evening.

“How the hell did all of these people get in here? They had to be invited to be let in!” Windu growled, cornering Gunray, who only held his large hands up in resignation and fear that the Charms professor was going to pin his head to the wall.

“Why are you asking me? I was with you!”

“It’s very convenient that they came in right after you grabbed us, Professor,” Tahl pointed out.

“These students were getting out of hand! You caught a couple getting frisky in a carriage, Windu!” Gunray floundered, “And let me make it clear that Minister of Magic will be-”

“-Save it, you will,” Yoda narrowed his eyes, “Let them in, someone did, and stop it, we cannot. Allowed to be here, they are.”

“They can have an hour,” Windu said stiffly, “And then I’m pulling the cord on this.”

“Agreed.” Shaak Ti said, “This isn’t fun for anyone.”

“And that’s supposed to be the entire point of tonight,” Palpatine said genially, “Perhaps, we can envelope the press into the fold as guests.”

“How optimistic, that is,” Yoda sighed, “Banish them we will. Get their pictures and spread the word, they will. Want this, the Minister does.”

“I don’t like being intruded upon,” Shaak Ti said, “And that feels very much like a crossed line tonight. There are parents here!”

“Just as there were for Parent’s Day last year!” Gunray objected harshly, “When that Kenobi boy almost died.”

“Well, unfortunately, Obi-Wan hasn’t been spared in that regard this year either,” Tahl shook her head and looked over at where the boy stood next to Ventress, “And still that’s not the most miserable I’ve seen him.”

Yoda followed her mindset exactly and once again, felt a wash of pain for young Obi-Wan’s position. It was not the first nor the last time that he dearly missed Qui-Gon, who always had a way of inspiring the boy to make his own decisions. Now, he felt trapped and Yoda made a pact to himself that he would talk to him and ensure that he was okay before he left these walls.

Hogwarts was not just a place of education. For many, it was a safe haven.

“Do our best, we will.” He said. “Find this missing Huttlet, we must.”

“Before Ziro does,” Windu agreed. “I have a bad feeling he’s going to blame someone here anyway.”

“And if someone here is at blame?” Gunray asked.

“Stand trial, they will,” Yoda said obviously, but even he was keeping all of his cards to the chest. It wasn’t as though he was just going to be blatantly transparent with the obvious Ministry mole. Who knew what would be in his report at the end of the year, other than how incompetent they likely ran the school.

With the Kenobis sniffing around, he had a feeling that was going to arise sooner rather than later.

“First,” Clapped Perre Needmo, “We want some action shots!”

Ventress found it very unnerving that just she and Obi-Wan were being paraded about like fools on display. It wasn’t as though she didn’t expect this to some degree. Just because Obi-Wan was doing so poorly in the tournament didn’t mean his love life wasn’t the most interesting of the bunch.

“That seems a bit inappropriate for prying eyes,” She snarked and could feel Obi-Wan’s panicked look at her profile. Did the boy really have no concept of fun? How would he survive this world without it?

“Nice,” Perre sighed, “I was referring to a classic dance. We’ll play something light and romantic. I hear Obi-Wan dedicated a song to you earlier.”

Unlikely, seeing as he was just as confused about the notion as she was. Once again, he really needed to work on how he saved face. All it seemed he was capable of was the same neutral vacant stare. He was damn lucky that it was always easier for guys, having him branded as quiet and sensitive instead of a bloody moron.

Still, he was listening enough to take her by the waist and hold her other hand in his.

“Are you planning on leading?” She hissed, “With a weak grip like that?”

“Apologies,” He squeezed her hand hard now, which she gritted out a smile. “I’m not made of glass just because I’m sharp.”

They swayed in silence and maintained eye contact the entire time, already an improvement from their first dance of the night. Still, nothing in comparison to the way Vos had commanded her around the floor. He wasn’t rough, per say, but there was something uncouth and unhinged about Durmstrang’s prize that suddenly intrigued her greatly.

Perhaps, she’d misjudged him when thinking him a simple pretty boy. If the story he told her stood the tests of truth, he had great potential.

He thought darkness was evil, as opposed to just another aspect of living. It was as essential as light and seeing that wouldn’t take much. He already touched it, even if not at his own accord.

She wasn’t fond of forcing someone into it. She relished more in the idea of him finding her in the shadows entirely on his own. He was suited for it, with strong arms and a mystique and power that stood above everyone else their age.

It was certainly superior to Kenobi, who looked as though he would lose a fight to a paper bag. Even with a bit of added muscle, he looked like a bean in comparison to Vos. She laughed at the visual of a physical contest, where Kenobi was pounded into the dust.

Maybe he would serve a purpose to her after all. He’d been brought to her this year for a reason and she very well was interested to find what that was.

“I didn’t realize I’d be carrying this dance,” She said.

“I’m trying,” He said.

“I’ve seen what you’re capable of,” Ventress said, “And this is meager at best.”

“Well, perhaps dance is like a wand in the sense that you need the proper partner to truly succeed.” He said.

“I’d reckon it’s like a body in the sense that you’re stuck with what you have,” She smiled ruthlessly, “And that you’re better off as soon as you accept that.”

“I’ve accepted it,” He said, glancing over towards Vos and Kryze, “Have you?”

Ventress felt herself scoff, “Shut it.”

“I mean it,” He said, “I saw you two together. Is that-”

“-I am not having this conversation with you while we are taking our wedding pictures,” She snapped, but kept her voice quiet.

“If you insist,” He sighed, “Just don’t give me that tone of superiority.”

He twirled her at that and instead of a fluid motion, it felt a bit like she was a top about to fall. Before she could, he just barely caught her. She wondered if it was intentional that he gave her the space to think she might crash. She would certainly do that to him.

Then again, upon reuniting with him, she was furious to find him absent of hate towards her. Instead, there was indifference, which was miles worse than hate. To be indifferent was not to care at all, not to even think about it. Indifference was apathy and apathy was emptiness.

They had a very long life together, even when she inevitably offed him down the line.

And he seemed to accept that and for what? Some pitiful vow he’d made with himself of duty? Duty to whom? Certainly not her nor himself.

When she caught his stare rove the crowd, she’d figured it out.

“You’re a fool,” She told him.

“You’d be the last to say that, Ventress,” He said, “Just keep dancing.”

“So, that’s it? You’re giving up.” She mused, “I could smell the stench of defeat anywhere.”

“It’s what you wanted,” He said passively.

And that’s what irritated her the most. He didn’t speak with hate in his words. It was just indifference to her, as though she could stab him right here and he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of driving the blade through him. He would merely fall and probably deliver some poetic line about having at least had a heart unlike her.

It made her hate him more, just how little he cared.

And it made her want him to hate her the same.

“Are you alright?” Satine couldn’t tell if it was Aayla or Stass who greeted her once she managed to swim upstream through the assembling crowd to put as much distance between herself and Obi-Wan as possible. She was too busy trying to keep her composure as unbothered and schooled as possible, especially with this sudden influx of reporters.

“I’m fine,” She managed and reached down to smooth out any possible wrinkles that could have formed from being lifted, hoping in futility that the effort would erase the memory of firm hands that had been there.

“Because that was…” Stass tried to carefully assess Satine’s mood with her usual thoughtfulness.

“Hot!” Aayla, ever the more direct, nodded enthusiastically.

“I was going to say intense,” Stass said with a shrug.

“You’re lucky these reporters didn’t come in a moment earlier,” Aayla said, “Or else that ending pose would have been front cover worthy, I tell you.”

Satine scoffed, “Such skewed priorities.”

“So, did you guys… Talk?” Stass tried. It was obvious that both girls wanted to ask a lot more than what they were, which Satine mostly appreciated. However, she never liked when anyone walked on eggshells around her. She wasn’t some delicate little flower that would be blown over by the softest breeze.

Even if it felt a bit like she’d been hit by a hurricane in the pit of her stomach.

“Everything is still very much the same, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Satine said. At least this time she hadn’t expected anything to change. This was how it was going to be. She could live with that. She would have to live with that. “We’re friends.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Aayla pressed, still watching her with immeasurable caution as though she might throw a fit right then and there.

“Of course,” She shrugged, “I’ve made my peace with it. Now, we just have to get through these stupid interviews and we’re home free to have fun for the rest of the evening.”

“If you say so,” Stass said. “I think Obi-Wan and Ventress are first.”

“You thought correctly,” Shrugged Quinlan as he appeared at their side, “Sorry for disappearing there.”

“Oh!” Satine tried not to flush at having not noticed, “That’s completely okay. I’m guessing we’re to be after them?”

“Yeah, but first we all have to take pictures.”

“Ah yes, my favorite,” She rolled her eyes and let her hand be taken by Quinlan, who guided her to the front of the room yet again. Everyone paved the way for them once they saw him, girls googly eyed and boys envious (and some googly eyed), while all looking at her with a pause that hadn’t been there earlier. She suspected that might have had to do with the little dance she and Obi-Wan shared.

She shook it off. Nothing was going to change. She was fine with that and she did mean it when she said she still cared for him. Her emotions were not vessels to be fired like weapons. They were controllable and important to feel. Just not right now.

Right now, as accepting Quinlan’s offer to attend the ball with him, she owed it to him to stand beside him and smile pretty for the various cameras being shoved in their faces.

Though nothing, even all the rationale and mental preparation in the world wouldn’t have stopped the way her blood ran cold at seeing Mr. and Mrs. Kenobi, toting cameras of their own, pointed them exclusively at Obi-Wan and Ventress. The least they could have done was bother to show interest in the other champions, at least Anakin, but it seemed that right now they had other plans.

“Smile wider, Obi-Wan! We didn’t pay good money for that headgear for nothing!” His mother chastised and snapped a picture.

And despite how strongly she tried to block out their comments and continue smiling for their own pictures, she couldn’t help but waver at the reminder of a boy, small and skinny with metal wires swirling around his head with such weight that it ached. She remembered with sharp clarity helping using pliers to pry them off by the golden light of a fireplace.

The tentative smile he gave her when he was freed had been the first time hers had skipped a beat.

“You saved me, as you always do.”

“Give the girl your jacket! That might make for a decent photo.” His father said.

Suddenly, Satine swore she felt the additional weight of the Head Boy’s robes weighing down on her shoulders, remembering they smelled of crisp pine and parchment. Instead, it turns out she wasn’t crazy, because Quinlan had draped his robe over her.

“You looked chilly.” He smiled at her and she wanted to smack herself for being so distant.

“Thank you,” She smiled back, hoping it made for a good image for Durmstrang’s champion.

“I didn’t lose it. I knew where it was the whole time.”

“It wouldn’t match. The boy just refused to wear green,” His mother tsked, “Something about sending the wrong message for this tournament.”

“Now he decides to start to care for appearances,” It was said with forced levity by Mr. Kenobi, who patted another reporter on the back as if to say “kids these days”.

Satine was surprised they’d relented in any capacity or that Obi-Wan had even objected at all.

“These are to be on the front of their wedding invites.” Mrs. Kenobi grinned, but the action looked more like a sneer; it was so foreign to her pointed face, “The future Mr. and Mrs. Kenobi.”

That was not supposed to be the intention of this session, though no one bothered to stop them much to Satine’s chagrin. The professors looked furious that they’d started early, but Satine just hoped this meant it would be over sooner.

“You two must be so proud,” Perre Needmo said as he took his pictures of Hera and Caleb. “A tournament and a wedding all in the same year.”

“Perhaps a child by the next,” Mr. Kenobi said, “If such a thing is possible.”

Satine came so close to gagging that she needed to stifle the urge with a fit of coughs that she feared would turn into actual vomiting. When she peered at Obi-Wan from the corners of her eyes, he looked almost in a trance, as though he wasn’t tuning into this universe at all.

She’d never thought so far ahead before, but Obi-Wan had brought up the prospect of being a father only once. Fourth year, she’d taken a nasty fall after carrying far too many books than she was capable of and slipped, gashing her knee.

“Thank you for bandaging me up,” She’d smiled at him after he knelt in front of her with so much care, so much delicacy, that she couldn’t help but comment, “Aside from kissing the boo-boo, you’re not unlike my mum.”

She remembered feeling so embarrassed for even bringing that up, but Obi-Wan hadn’t seemed off put in the slightest. Instead, he gave her one of those knowing smiles and pretended as though he was going to do just that, only for her to shove him back a bit with a laugh.

“I’ve never received that particular method of care,” He laughed a bit sadly, “But I think one day, if I were to have kids, I’d be the sort to do so.”

“Yeah,” She’d answered, “I think you would too.”

And that look they shared, with him wet from running after her after she’d fallen and helping her limp back inside despite being significantly shorter than her at the time, was the moment she knew she was in trouble.

And she was correct, but she still was.

Because it was then, as Satine visualized the small kind boy with nice hair and bright eyes, who helped the least liked kids in their year with their studies and showed nothing short of compassion and understanding, she realized all at once that she wasn’t mad at him. Not really.

She was just… Hurt.

And she honestly couldn’t tell if she hurt more for him or for herself.

“Are you okay?” Quinlan asked and she noticed that the photographer had stopped. Rightfully so, it was far from her most attractive moment.

“Yes,” She forced the sense of bile that was rising in her throat and turned with a bright smile towards a now hesitant photographer.

They went on like that for a while and she was eternally grateful that the Kenobis and their incessant comments had dimmed down and it was just the usual questions being shouted at them by the paparazzi.

“Anakin, where did you and Padmé meet?”

“Hera, introduce us to your new boyfriend!”

“Satine! How’d you land a catch like Quinlan?”

“I’d argue she’s the catch,” Quinlan grinned widely. She had to laugh a bit, because he was an expert at this. From her peripherals, she could see someone flinch a bit and while she initially believed it was just her imagination, it was confirmed when Ventress snapped with tight lips.

“Stop moving, darling .” Ventress said.

Satine sighed as they changed poses.

“Do you think Quinlan has a shot of winning?” Perre asked. “That first task was a bit hard on you.”

“I think everyone has a decent enough chance, they all performed admirably,” Satine said evenly, “Who even knows what the next task will hold?”

She always found that returning questions with questions was the easiest approach.

“Well, some better than others,” Laughed Tyrr, “Isn’t that right, Ventress?”

“I stand with clan Kenobi on their support of Anakin Skywalker,” She mewled, “As a part of accepting everyone for their varying backgrounds.”

Satine grit her teeth. It sounded so blatantly scripted coming from Ventress, who took every opportunity possible to wave the fact that she came from the purest blood possible in the face of whoever would listen.

“And your husband to be?” Javis asked.

“Well, he’s easy on the eyes, at least there’s that.” She said, “I will get him for all of eternity, fortunately.”

“A good answer as any!” He smiled, “Well, I think we can move away from pictures and onto interviews, hm?”

“I agree, I think we got everything we need.” Perre said.

“Really? And which would be worthy of the front cover?” Mrs. Kenobi shoved her nose into their conversation, as though she were remotely on the same level of them in terms of journalism.

“Well, it can be any of them really. They all look quite nice,” Perre said.

“Nothing that spicy, though,” Javis complained with a pout.

Satine, relieved to be done with this portion of the nonsense, took a step back and away from Quinlan, ready to move with the others to at least be afforded a moment to sit down while they were asked incredibly personal questions that likely had nothing to do with the true nature of this tournament.

“Wait, you forgot something,” Ventress said to Obi-Wan, catching him by the wrist.

“What?” He turned back to her.

“This,” She grinned and Satine watched in horror as Ventress captured his face in her clutches and forced his mouth to meet hers in a bruising kiss, sending the cameras around them into a frenzy of flashing white and snapping.

The crowd roared, but even that could not drown out the thudding in Satine’s ears.

“There’s our cover photo!”

“Now this is journalism!”

“Save some for the wedding night!”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he was having a very horrible dream or if this was reality, not while Ventress’ nails dug into his head, holding him in place as she shoved her tongue into his mouth, and certainly not when he pulled away to the cheering photographers and his grinning parents. He didn’t fully regain the ability to breathe on his own until a moment after he was released from captivity and the inundation of the fluttering lights was nearly too much to bear. Ventress’s black lipstick was smeared on her face and she grinned at him like the cat that caught the canary, like she’d won some prize that he didn’t know was on the table.

Everything was moving in slow motion until he looked around him and noticed that Quinlan was now standing alone on the platform. He seemed to have just come to this realization as well, while his parents were too busy clapping him and Ventress on the back for their resourcefulness. Another crowd of people was closing in, but through the smallest of openings, he saw a burst of red cut through a sea of gray, pushing her way to find a retreat.

Then, everything was inscrutably fast , to the point where he didn’t fully remember the details of what happened next or what was said. There were just flashes of the past echoing through his mind. A piece of cake slid his way after a life of deprivation, its sweetness far from the last kindness he’d be offered.

A watch that ticked with finalty. Permanence. He made his way through his parents, through Ventress, and even through Vos, without much struggle.

A book that he, most ardently, absorbed every word to find new meaning, hoping it would fill the void he was forced to place between them.

Vaguely, words asserting that they had an interview or how he needed to wait or how Vos would go after her, but Obi-Wan ignored all of them with the simple response that he would return, though not caring much if he did or not. He needed to go after her.

Somehow, he lost his robe in the swift process of slipping from the scene, but the way heat pumped through his veins like lava meant that the loss of warmth wasn’t to be mourned at this very moment.

“He just needs to run to the loo!” His mother could be heard saying, though Obi-Wan really didn’t care if they believed that or not.

He kept his sight on the blond head of hair that sifted through the curious people. Some, he knew and others he didn’t, but he treated each the same, as though he were swimming and they were but a current to be glided upon.

“Mate, maybe that’s not the best idea. She looks pretty upset-” Cody of all people tried to stop him and he was the closest to get to Obi-Wan in terms of attention, but it was still a losing game at the jump.

“Please move, Cody.” He said, but wasn’t really asking as he continued on his way. From there it was like slicing through butter in finding his own escape, and he must have moved faster than even he thought, because he caught the flurry of red disappear in a trail behind her and out into the cold.

He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, cringing at the black that rubbed off. No, that certainly wouldn’t help matters.

With more purpose than he was entitled to, he stormed through the large arches and out onto cobblestone, finding that the chill didn’t bother him in the slightest. Not in comparison to the image of her walking away, heels clicking on stone, her fists clenched tightly.

“Satine!” He called, louder than perhaps necessary, but there was ambition to her escape and it felt as though the closer she got to the lantern at the end of the courtyard, then she would truly be lost to him.

He knew such a fate was inevitable, but here, now, after that … It made that kiss feel like a death sentence and the concept that it ended here coiled something sickening in the pit of his stomach.

He caught her hand, meeting her somewhere in the middle of the stone walkway, half impressed that neither slipped on the ice that coated the surface.

“Wait,” He coaxed, “Listen…”

“No,” She turned to him, eyes frosty as she shook off his grip. He relented, immediately, never wanting to hold her captive at his own whim or in any capacity. “No, I’m afraid I won’t be listening any longer.”

“That wasn’t- I never meant for that to happen.” He continued, desperate for her to understand that he’d meant what he said earlier. He would never want to hurt her.

“It doesn’t matter what you intended to happen, it happened!” She said tightly, “It happened and you didn’t stop it and you’re never going to stop it.”

He was silent, guilt pooling in the pit of his stomach.

“Are you?” She repeated, quietly and much more hurt than she looked comfortable leading on.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He answered instead.

“Stop apologizing, especially for the wrong things!” She said, her voice climbing, “This isn’t about my seeing you kiss another girl. I could get over that.”

He looked at her, bewildered and she shook her head, “If Ventress was someone you truly loved with all of your heart, I would get over it. I’d make myself. But it’s the very fact that you hate her and you are still going to meet her at that aisle and sire yourself to her loathsome self for the rest of your days, damn what you want! Damn what you need .”

“It’s more complicated than you know.”

“Bullshit,” She spat, “You can pull that with anyone else, but you can’t fool me. Not after you humiliated me not once, not twice, but three times. You don’t get to come running out here like the knight in shining armor only to deliver some lame excuse and preserve whatever role I can play in your little life of lies.”

“That’s not why I’m out here.” He gritted.

“Then why are you? To tell yourself you tried to comfort me? To tell me you care about me? Out of some guilt-fueled drive to keep everything from changing? Save it. I don’t care and it already has,” She insisted, near shouting at this point.

“Is it such a crime to ensure you’re okay?” He argued back, the flames of his own frustration stoking and taking form on their own in a way only Satine could really inspire.

“Not if you’re the reason for my upset!” She fired. “Especially when I don’t care to hear it.”

“If you don’t care so much, maybe you ought to go back in there and share a snog with Quinlan to get even with me then? Or were you not just catching some air.” It was bordering on cruel, but he didn’t care. He would not be treated as a verbal whipping post out here, regardless of how upset she was. Plus, on some level he knew she wanted this. She wanted a fight with him. It was possible she’d wanted one for a very long time.

“Bastard,” She yelled, “You’ve no right to be jealous that I came here with someone else when you had every opportunity to ask me.”

“Don’t pretend that you didn’t choose him to hurt me right back,” He felt his face turning red, a rare release of anger burning at the flint of her point. “And I was not jealous.”

“And maybe I did a little,” She said and pointed back towards the door, “Oh? That wasn’t you wallowing in the corner in your own self-pity all evening? Like it was anyone but yourself who put you there.”

“How kind of you to point that out,” He snarked, “Perhaps that’s why Vos likes you. Clearly, he’s got a type for the shrewd sort.”

Again, far from the actual point of their argument, but it was still something that the ugly parts of Obi-Wan focused on. The intellectual part of his brain was begging him to shut up, but for once, logic had been thrown to the icy wind that blew between them, chilling their bones but not the heat between them.

“Something the two of you have in common, apparently.”

“I never liked Ventress.” He corrected.

“You pretend to!”

“Because I have to!” He argued.

“You have to carry on your family’s claim of pureblood superiority?” She asked sardonically, and as strange of a fact as it was to notice right now, in the heat of her wrath, but they were eye-to-eye thanks to the level her heels afforded her. It was as though she was using the established even ground to climb up this fight, ruthless and determined to win.

What, he wasn’t sure. Just as he wasn’t sure what he wanted from this. They’d had so much bottled up all year and couldn’t seem to stop bickering. It was only a matter of time before a fuse blew.

But it was not rendering the satisfaction either wanted it to. Yelling on the courtyard until they were red in the face on Christmas Eve, like they weren’t supposed to be the model students for all of the others to come after them. Like barbarians, really, but instead of using their fists, they used their words.

“That’s not me, you know that!” He exclaimed rather desperately.

“But you are sure as hell trying to be!” She rounded at him, a collision of fire and ice in her eyes, casting flames and chills in one breath, “Which makes me the idiot who’s defended you this entire time, saying you weren’t like them and thinking you were kind and sensitive, that you were better than all the rest. Just because I saw your heart.”

“You do, and you always have,” He said, shaking his head.

“But it matters not what the nature of your heart is, but what actions you take.” She swallowed, her stare unrelenting as she took all of him in, demanding that he be seen, “And you deserve more than them!”

She jabbed her finger into his chest, “You deserve more than all of them! And what do you choose to do instead? Bury yourself in your own misery and become the very thing that I know you hate. The very thing that hates me.”

“I could never hate you.”

“I almost wish that you did, because then at least there would be convictions to your words instead of sentiments,” She said, “I suppose I should be glad that I’m even getting words.”

“You’re the one who hasn’t spoken to me all month?” He reminded her.

“And you’re the reason for it!” She cared not for sparing his feelings. They were pulling out all the hard points. There was nowhere to take shelter from the influx of emotion that poured out of her, “Because you led me on and I made it easy!”

“You are anything but an easy person, Satine, let’s not act like you were exactly approachable about the subject.” He said.

“Let’s make one thing abundantly clear about the subject then: if you had cared for me enough, or if you deemed I was worth it, you would have asked me, damn what the press, your parents, or anyone else thought about it!” She said, voice low and steady, “But you didn’t and you would rather us go on as we always do, pretending like we don’t want each other-”

“-Of course I wanted you!” He burst, not caring a damn who heard it, nor how booming his voice sounded as it echoed off the courtyard, still even the snowfall from persisting and Satine from cutting in, her stare frozen with a mixture of shock and uncertainty.

“I have bloody wanted you for as long as I’ve known you. Since before I even knew what feeling this way meant. All of this, every single thing that I’m doing, signing the dotted line, isn’t because I want to. It’s for everyone I care about! Cody and Anakin, but most damningly, it’s for you. I’m doing all of this to protect you from them, to keep them away from you, to ensure you wouldn’t be hurt. Because I couldn’t fathom that! And that’s because I lo-”

“-Don’t.” She cut in, voice suddenly taking on a hoarse quality that stole the words out of his mouth. She shook her head, stray strands of blonde breaking loose from the updo that it had been twisted in all night, “Don’t you dare say something you cannot commit to. If you’ve any shred of respect for me, you won’t do that to me. Especially if what you’re telling me is true. Instead, tell me you don’t. Tell me you don’t and that you never did and you never will.”

Suddenly, it felt like all the air within his lungs were sucked out and replaced instead with a blistering cold so tangible that it made breathing near impossible. Instead, all he could do was watch Satine and how very vulnerable she suddenly appeared. No longer was she a ball of fire in a snowstorm, but a rose sprouting through ice. Determined and unrelenting, but susceptible to being crushed by the elements.

“I can’t do that.” He stuttered out, after opening and closing his mouth several times beforehand.

And for a long moment, they just stood there, staring at each other with only the howling wind and distant wolves matching its tune. Snow dusted her hair and contrasted beautifully with the flush of her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes. Suddenly, she looked away, not liking what she found or perhaps the contrary.

“I am so sorry,” He said, but when he took a step towards her, she backed away suddenly, visibly flinching in a way that inflicted pain directly at his heart.

“So am I,” She heaved a deep sigh, steadying her own breathing, “I’m sorry that I believed you actually really knew me.”

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded that this of all things was what she had to say.

“Am I supposed to be flattered? Am I supposed to thank you for throwing in the towel on your life and happiness for me?” She asked. “Or should I ask the entire school to applaud your sacrifice?”

“This is why I didn’t tell you.” He said, “I knew you would never approve.”

“Because I don’t want this!” She shouted, throwing her arms in the air, “I don’t want any of this.”

“I’ve seen what they can do, Satine,” He said sharply, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that his parents weren’t listening in the wings to spy on him. He had no idea just how much time passed between them, “They’ve made people disappear for far less than entangling with their son . Their only pureblood son .”

“I don’t want your protection, I don’t want your sacrifice, I don’t want to be the origin story to how you became an emotional martyr,” She said, eyes red and likely not just from the cold. Obi-Wan found that his felt the same. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I just… It shouldn’t be this hard.”

“No,” He agreed with a sad sigh, “It shouldn’t.”

The space between them was no longer loud with words, but with thoughts. No longer could they dip into the fantasy of the past or pretend as though the future wasn’t upon them. They were both figments of a dream that they wanted more than anything to touch, to be real, to meet in the promiseland.

Nothing was promised to them.

Neither knew what to do or where to go from there until Satine, ever the braver one between them at heart, took a watery breath.

“I can see that your mind is already made up,” She sniffled, “Looking into your eyes right now, I can already see that I’ve lost you for good. That you’re committed to this in a way that I wish you could have been committed to yourself.”

“Satine,” He swallowed thickly, taking her hand in his, “I can’t live with myself if I was the reason you were hurt or worse. That is the duty I have pledged myself to.”

“And yet, in a cruel twist of fate,” Tears were stinging at her eyes for too long, pooling until slipping down the graceful curve of her cheek, too hot to be bothered with by the cold that stung them both. He watched in agony, fighting himself from reaching out and swiping them away, knowing too well that it would bring about more pain than comfort. She tried to stifle them or retract them, but it was no use. Once they started, there was no stopping.

“You already are.” She finally choked out.

The bottom dropped out from his heart and Obi-Wan felt, with numbing lucidity, just how painfully pivotal this moment was. Forever would the heartbroken expression that twisted her face into tears be etched into his mind's eye. He’d been the cause for such an ache, for wilting the rose in the snow and crushing it with his carelessness.

“If that’s it, then I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” She nodded, licking her lips and removing any traces of lipstick that had previously stained them. “I can do a lot of things, Obi-Wan, but I can’t…” Her voice shook and her crying became more persistent, “If you want to throw your life away so terribly, please do not ask me to watch.”

But he watched her go, helpless and doleful as he may be while she literally slipped through his fingers, lifting the front of her dress to run without daring to look back as Obi-Wan wished she would. He didn’t dare follow, instead staying firm and cemented to his grief while everything around him at this place, this once happy place, came undone at his own volition.

His arm was outstretched for longer than necessary and in the warm reflection of a nearby stained glass window, his watch caught the glint of the golden light.

He brought it near to him and gazed at his reflection in its face, decidedly hating what he saw, especially in a gift so lovingly made.

He wasn’t sure if his indecision on the accessories had made him more or less lost, but he stroked the face free from snowflakes and now a single tear that dropped from his eyes.

“There’s that sad slouch again,” Anakin’s appearance really should have startled Obi-Wan from his reverie, but it had no such effect as he was too captured in the daze of losing what he’d sought to protect all along.

And how stupid he really was.

The boy patted him on the back, “I’ll tell you what, I can prank her to get back at her. That’ll make you feel better.”

The entire point of the gift had been so he’d never be too late ever again. It seemed, as hard as he struggled to accept it, he’d still failed on that front.

#obitine #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze #Anakin Skywalker #anidala #tcw #tony stark #magical forces au #hpau

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