June 28th, evening — Misses & Matrons Spellcraft Ball

He knew her brother Byron a little better than her, because he’d been the Ravenclaw of the pair – but Johanna Applegate was fine. Nice, if a little odd; not yet married, though he didn’t know if that was for lack of trying or not. But a safe partner for a dance, all the same. She seemed the sort to have quirky hobbies.

“That depends on if you follow it,” Theo prefaced, deadpan. He tilted his head to weigh up the chances of her being genuinely interested or having merely asked to be polite. “If you don’t, then the Cannons are definitely winning,” he joked. An exaggeration, but they weren’t doing too badly – they were a solid team, and usually consistently in the upper half of the league – but he didn’t plan to bore her with all the details of their last matches if she wanted the short answer instead.

---

There, he hadn’t figured her for a quidditch obsessive, even if she had asked. Theo supposed he ought to be relieved by this; beyond the conversation he was having to be a little careful with the direction they were moving to make sure they didn’t collide with anyone – he was worried Miss Applegate, concentrating on making vibrant conversation as she was, seemed potentially liable to spin off too forcefully on any of the waltz’s gentle turns. “We’re having a few rounds of tryouts this summer, actually – might have some new players on the team,” Theo explained carelessly, still doing his best to navigate them – but he shot her a smile too and parried the question back. “And you? Anything exciting on the cards for you?”

---

Theo grinned dryly. Now, she said, like their classmates hadn’t been playing quidditch for eight years or so, and in some cases were captaining teams already. But it had admittedly always been very odd to Theo too, mostly because he didn’t think anyone on the Cannons had ever been able to take him seriously. (This was an unexpected benefit of filling spots on the team with fresh graduates. With younger players, people he hadn’t gone to school with, there was much less chance of being – too friendly.)

Maybe she was trying to provoke a dancefloor collision on purpose, just for something to do? Theo thought he would probably respect that. “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” he agreed, by which he privately meant I bet it’s utter misery. But in turn: “Though I s’pose it might be more odd to me that people we went to school with are married now.” And were parents, and... And – well, Miss Applegate wasn’t yet, so maybe he shouldn’t have brought that up? Was the dance ending soon?

---

He hadn’t expected her to fall over herself now, as they were slowing out of a turn and the dance was ending – but somehow, impressively, she was, and there was nothing to do for it but try and catch her, to stop her fall before she knocked him over with her. And Theo managed to keep his footing, just about, but she had closed most of the space between them and he had grasped her more tightly as he caught her, other arm dropping to wrap around her too.

And he was conscious of not wanting to linger here and draw any (more) attention to her, but Theo forgot that almost immediately. Because – she smelled of lavender. Or maybe it was that her dark hair contrasting with her light eyes made her more striking, close up. Or was it because he had just been thinking about marriage, somehow? Theo was confused. It was as if he hadn’t actually noticed her until now. And now that he had, he...

He swallowed before he spoke, and did not yet let go. “Are you alright?”

---

No. It was not the answer he had been expecting.

And Theo wasn’t sure he was alright, either, because he was oddly glad she wasn’t, if it meant he had a reasonable excuse to orbit her for a little bit longer.

But perhaps it was better he did not ask her to dance a second time. “Is it – your ankle?” he tried, glancing down as if he could see anything that might be the cause of Miss Applegate’s distress. (He didn’t know, but he was fairly sure his problems stemmed from the sudden, inexplicable somersaulting in his gut.) “Would you like to – sit? What can I do?” Theo asked, keen to help – equally keen that she did not leave yet.

---

“‘Course. I’d rather sit with you than dance with anyone else,” Theo admitted lightly, but then flushed slightly at the idea she might have heard the with you in the statement (and even more embarrassed at the fact that he might actually mean that part too).

Somehow falling over himself verbally seemed worse than her clumsiness in dancing. Still – “Hopefully,” he agreed hastily about just twisted, only to save himself blurting out anything else too forward; almost grateful for the minor task at hand as a distraction from it, he loosed his grasp enough to help her along to a pair of chairs at the side of the room and dropped into one.

---

“Yeah,” Theo said, because in spite of his general apathy towards evenings spent in society he did really want her to like him, for some reason.

But he already knew the yeah didn’t sound particularly believable, so he shrugged ever so slightly, a non-verbal well. “No, not really,” he admitted, casting his gaze out over the ballroom before glancing at her sidelong again. “I feel like you never... really get to know people any better, here?” (That, or the problem was that happier people just had an easier time enjoying themselves anywhere.)

But it was the same set of people and the same conversations every time, with the same aims in mind, and if anything, it was growing more claustrophobic by the year. And Theo knew what it was supposed to be for, but no amount of small talk or sustained eye contact during dances with debutantes had yet had its intended effect on him, and presumably never would. Theo recognised this was a flaw in him, and not the other way around – although he had just found his gaze lingering on Miss Applegate’s outstretched ankle for reasons that were not entirely concern. Hm. She was having strange effects on him. “But you do,” he hazarded, only half a guess; he was sure she did. “Like it.” For one, it was all but her profession, and she had called the Season droll, after all.

---

Not the point. Theo grinned wryly. That explained why he didn’t like nights like these, then, if he had spent the Seasons always barking up the wrong tree. He supposed the point was social climbing – marriage; mingling; showing off.

But Miss Applegate hadn’t used any of that to explain why she liked these events. “I don’t know if the music is the point either,” Theo remarked mildly, teasing; the grin stayed on his face as he watched her tap her foot.

He hadn’t tried to get to know Johanna Applegate before this evening, and he hadn’t thought he would – but she seemed so sincere that he did feel like he was getting to know her better, after all. That made a change. A fluke of the night, somehow. He paused for a moment before he spoke, listening for the violins. “What do you like about it?” The music, he meant. If that was so, and she liked – any music, all music, every song that was played then – she never would be bored of these. That was lucky for her.

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