Hands laced patiently in front of her as the brunette appraised her companion, Poppy could feel the look on her face echoing his grin. (His sweet, interested little grin that was all for her out here.) Poppy didn’t know if she looked silly, or what he might be thinking of her right now, but Mr. Lestrange’s little bow made something tickle inside of her. The students at Hogwarts, or anyone else for that matter, could think what they liked: Kristoffer Lestrange could be a complete and utter gentleman when he wanted to be. At the sound of her name from his lips, something inside of Poppy lit up like a flame. It was so different sounding when he said it, so enticing. A warm blush stretched across her cheeks, visible in the light glittering in through the windows of the nearby ballroom. She liked how it sounded, and secretly hoped he might use it again. Lifting her small hand to place it delicately in his, Poppy accepted the proposal of a dance with a smile. She’d waited all evening to hear that sentiment from this particular gentleman. “I’d be delighted to,” she replied, quietly.
As the already half run song continued to fall over them in this peaceful little corner of Dashwood Hall, Poppy tightened her hold on Mr. Lestrange’s hand enough to keep her balance as she slipped off her shoes, one by one, under her skirts. She couldn’t help the little laugh that bubbled up as she kicked them out recklessly from underneath. Painful, wretched things. Then, turning all her attention back upon him, Poppy settled herself into Mr. Lestrange’s grip. She had no fear in this dance to be as featherlight and free of grasp as she had with the others. She was not thinking of the necessity to escape, should a gentleman try and push his boundary. Even though, of all of them, Mr. Lestrage was the only one who ever had ever gotten fresh with her, Poppy did not feel the need to keep herself so guarded. He was the only one, after all, who had come to her aid at the track. He was the only one in whose grasp she was delighted to stay as long as he let her.
"You can call me Poppy," she said then, more confidently than she felt. "If you like."
We are friends after all.
© Fox