To be, or not to be dancing.

Sweat glistened on Selene's brow, her tongue was poked out to the side, just enough that the tip was showing between her lips. One arm swooped in front of her, and her jaw tightened with pain that each step made, for she had been dancing for almost three hours now, and even moving her hand was a stretch. It was as though the tension the world had created was coursing through her, pain. A swoop of her hand, misery, the touch of her toe, chaos, the turn of her head. It was all shown in the way she moved her body, the way she portrayed her character as she flitted across the room, steps so small she seemed to glide, no emotion on her face, nothing but a small peek of her tongue that stuck out from between her teeth. Selene was in the moment.

There were times in Selene's life where she wondered what she was going to do. Why she was where she was at right now, what was going on in the world, and her body, for whatever reason, almost overheated with her thoughts, her actions became more sulky, her mind would frizzle and die out, and she would be an empty shell, well three hours ago, she had been like that. She had walked into the room, her portable wireless set with her (The kind enchanted so that it could work in Hogwarts) stuck in a cd, and turned it on as low as she could while still being able to hear it over her breathing. It had now been on repeat for three hours and was still going strong. Selene on the other hand, looked as though she may drop any second, because this is how she became normal again.

After taking so much in the world, after fighting to keep a calm front, while inside her mind was panicking, Voldemort, Barker, Naomi, moving, family, friends, death, destruction, peril, it always came back to the same thing, and that was chaos. For when there was chaos outside of the body, there was chaos inside as well. Some people had better control over the chaos in their minds, but some people, like Selene, needed an outlet, and that's what Selene was doing on this cold January day, a window flung open, snow flakes drifting through it, melting instantly whenever they touched Selene's hot skin. Her breathing was harsh, and as the song came to a close, Selene finally fell to the floor, hot hands resting on the cool stones as she sat on one knee, one knee propped up between her hands, the other quivering beneath her body weight. She was exhausted, and she had finally reset her mind, the mind that had once been overheating from the turmoil, the mind that had needed to be reset, was finally at peace, as a wind blew into the freezing chamber, making the shutters rattle.

Selene sat for nearly five minutes, trying to catch her breath, her body still so hot that you'd have thought she had a fever if you were to touch her, even though she was dressed in short shorts and a tank top. Her hair was pulled back into a large messy ponytail, sweat cascading from her forehead and dripping on the floor as her body slowly cooled down, letting her realize that she was shivering now, awakening her senses once again, and finally she sat down, moved from her position, her body aching as she sat in an empty classroom, somewhere on the fourth floor she supposed, and then very carefully she moved to her feet, went to the window and closed it with a snap, the room feeling silent, but the music still playing in the background.

Fifty quid later and Elijah’s pockets were filled with the sweet substance he’d been denied for the last three weeks. The Slytherin had wasted no time in fumbling around for the lighter. The end of the cigarette blackened and curled in on itself as the core began to burn amber. Elijah inhaled and felt the rush of smoke fly down his throat. The smoke dived into his lungs and filled them up, soothing the aching need for nicotine. Elijah exhaled in ecstasy and the smoke was pulled from his lungs. It was thrown out into the air around him and Elijah smiled wistfully at the cloud of grey before moving on. It had been so long since he’d seen cigarette smoke. How wonderful it felt to have that weight on his lips. Elijah didn’t realise how much he truly needed the nicotine that was soothing the screaming child in the back of his head. He understood now just how much he did need it. He knew that functioning without it just wasn’t a possibility anymore; and Merlin knew he wasn’t going to let that become a possibility ever again. Chase would just have to be lied to.

The inhabitants of Hogwarts were less than pleased to find the Slytherin smoking in the hallways. Many of the braver or elder students decided to make their opinions heard. Screwing up their faces, shutting their eyes and opening their mouths real wide in a hope of pushing words out was the telling off Elijah was receiving from many of the prospective prefects. The younglings really did try. One even turned puce in the process. That particular colour on the infuriating little boy amused Elijah to no end. Even the tips of the child’s hair were beginning to go from ginger to plum. He’d walked away from that child as the boy continued to turn different colours. He was channelling the rainbow. Elijah did not suspect it was his fault for this. He blamed the ginger child for trying to look like his peers. Supposedly, gingers were supposed to be dying out but with all of the Weasleys running around they were doing nought but multiplying. Plus, Chase was ginger, Jack too and that little Hufflepuff called Ivy that cooed at Twist much to his delight. As attracted to the reds as he was, Elijah couldn’t knock the blondes or the brunettes.

The hallways emptied as Elijah strode down them. A quick glance over his shoulder told him why. Hufflepuffs adored the fourth floor for some unidentifiable reason and the Head of that particular house was ferrying her students towards their respective classes. Elijah blended quite well and the Head seemed oblivious to the trail of smoke floating behind the ebony-haired Slytherin. Something that Elijah hadn’t foreseen made him forget about the cigarette that he’d been looking forward to for weeks, though. Music coming from the empty classroom near the end of the hallway caught his attention almost immediately. Elijah took the cigarette from his mouth and looked about himself, only seeing panicked Hufflepuffs racing by. Elijah pushed the door with the tips of his fingers and he blinked in alarm upon seeing a flash of creamy skin.

Tapping the end of the cigarette against the stone wall, Elijah leaned against the doorframe and poked his head inside slightly to watch the blonde dance. She was poised, practiced and, in Elijah’s opinion, boring. That didn’t make her any less talented or any less beautiful but she could have been so much more than she already was. Elijah watched as her sweat-slicked skin moved across the muscles contracting with each movement she made. She was like one of those ballerinas in the music boxes. Granted she was sweatier and moving more rapidly but she invoked the same wonder in Elijah that the little porcelain ballerinas did in children.

The spell was broken when the window was snapped shut. Elijah pulled his head back, blinking in surprise. That was the last thing he’d been expecting and now, his curiosity was piqued. She didn’t strike him as the type that would let him put her in his little black book. Elijah wondered if he could pull it off, though. It was only figurative but it was always good to add another name to the résumé. Deciding to act, the Slytherin placed cigarette but behind his ear and stepped inside. The door squeaked, announcing his presence. Elijah took his bag off of his shoulder and dropped it on the floor. He shrugged his jacket off and dropped it on top of the bag. The shirt was made of thin cotton and the neckline plunged. Whatever had possessed Elijah to wear such a thing was probably drink related. Or, in his nicotine-starved delirium that morning, he’d picked it. He’d traded the choker today though. Instead he had the set of dog tags on that Elisabeth had bought him for Christmas. If found, do not take it home was what one of the tags read. The other had Elijah’s birth date, full name etcetera on it. Said tags jingled as Elijah wandered further in.

“You’re a dancer,” he stated the obvious and grabbed a chair off of one of the tables. He turned it around and placed it down on the floorboards. He dusted the seat off and straddled the chair. He dropped his arms onto the back of the chair and observed the girl easily. “Have you ever danced to anything other than,” Elijah elaborated vaguely, “this?” Elijah wrinkled his nose. “It’s a bit boring isn’t it? I was always taught how to dance properly; like you seem to. What about real dance? Ever experienced that, love? You’re Parisian aren’t you?” Elijah got up and kicked the chair to the side. “You don’t strike me as a girl on the party scene though. Mère et Frère disapproving of it?” Elijah took his wand from his pocket, “How about I change the track and we dance hm? What do you say, chérie?”

Somehow it didn't surprise her that she had gotten someone's attention, wiping her slightly damp hair out of her face, she turned in surprise to see a boy standing at the door. No.. not a boy, a MAN standing at the door. Being caught dancing wasn't really what made Selene nervous, it was more the fact that her shorts weren't meant to be seen by other people, and her tanktop was rather low cut. She found herself pulling on the back of her shorts nervously, before she flushed and stopped it, he put his bag down, and started to get comfortable, pulling his jacket off to reveal a rather nicely toned chest under a cotton white shirt, with the neckline a bit farther down than she could expect on a straight man. He was probably gay, and it was a shame, seeing as he was incredibly hot.

Of course she wasn't going to fool herself, he probably just wanted action, and he obviously came to the wrong girl for that. Seeing as she had told herself no.. she hadn't even been kissed before, why would she be wooed by this handsome devil in disguise? She wouldn't that's why, he gave off the air of someone who got what he wanted, and it was made more obvious by the burning end of a cigarette sticking out from behind his ear. Any normal boy wouldn't have made it three steps down the hallways with a cigarette, but this guy apparently had, and it had burned quite a way down, she just hoped it burned his ear.

"Yes.. I am a dancer." She said, suddenly aware of her thick French Accent. "I 'ave danced seence I was in ze crib." She said and made it clear that she wasn't interested in him when she turned her back on him and latched the window shut more securely, before going to her bag to get a jacket on. Her body was cooling down rapidly and she was starting to get cold. "I like zat music zank you.. Eet eez an old favorite." She said pulling a towel out from her bag and wiping her face and neck off with it. She pulled out a light jacket, and pulled it over her shoulders, not putting her arms through the sleeves though, just hanging it on her shoulders like a cape. "I 'ave been dancing for three hours Monsieur... you may dance eef you like, I am tired.." She said quickly and started to pull on her jacket all the way, making it clear she was about to leave.

"I dance to real music... not zat.. pop stuff, Zough I was taught 'ow.. I just prefer to dance to vat I like... Now.. eef you'll excuse me.." Selene grabbed her bag and hung the towel around her neck, she sighed and then bent down, putting her bag back on the ground and started pulling out a large jacket, she had to cross the grounds and she didn't like the prospect of going out in the clothes she was wearing, so she pulled out some heavier pants, even if it were just to cover up her legs from this guy's roving eyes. Though she did sort of enjoy the attention, she made a point to bend down so her back was to him, her tank top was riding up a bit, and her shorts were MUCH to short, her face was going red as she fumbled with her bag to get some longer pants to put on. Once she had extracted them, she turned around and quickly pulled down the back of her tanktop and started to slip her legs into the pants, her muscles starting to quiver and shake from being to cold after being hot for so long, she was shivering like mad.

The pretty lady did not want his attentions it seemed. Elijah would have been a liar if he’d said he hadn’t been disappointed but he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. He took his cigarette out from behind his ear and walked over to one of the windows. He flicked the latch off and pushed the window open. A blast of cold air came through and Elijah shuddered, feeling goose-bumps spring up on his skin. He slammed the window shut and ran his hands up his arms. He turned towards the blonde and walked back into the middle of the room, his sultry rumble vibrating around the room before he’d even decided to say anything.

“What if I want to dance with you?” was the question, one he didn’t even think over twice.

His question was harmless but it meant a lot. Elijah didn’t know much about her kind of dance but he supposed it was important to her. He’d learned the necessary dances required for all pureblood young men to know. To appease the elders he had to know it and he did. That didn’t mean he didn’t indulge in what could have been called sex without the act itself. The few times he was sober provided the best recollections. The bruises from the gyration told the tale his mind did not. He’d always recall the battle of tongues, though, as he became locked in a kiss with a random, nondescript dancer that probably belonged to another pair. No one danced solely with their partner. You either had your hands on someone else or your lips were latched onto someone else’s body. Your hips, though, were theirs.

Elijah wondered how much she knew about ‘his’ kind of dance. Very little he hoped, not that it could be applied in the bodiless space they were in. She needed to be in her home country, surrounded by sweaty foreigners that had mixed in with the French who knew the city, who knew the people on the floor, better than they knew themselves. Faces were blurred but there was a familiarity in the bodies. The particular width of shoulders, the size and feel of breasts, the way someone’s hips felt underhand. Bodies were most familiar, gruff, wanton voices next. Faces didn’t even come close to them. Fingers and hands came next.

Elijah observed her legs and arse leisurely. She was encouraging him, he was sure. It was that silent encouragement that made Elijah slink over to her, even when she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested. “You’re freezing,” he told her with a tut. “Come on...what could one dance hurt? It would do you some good I am sure...” he smiled at her and tapped her wrist with his fingers. “Come on, show me exactly how good you are. You know you want to...it beats walking out to the carriage doesn’t it?”

Selene stood and stared at him when he came near, he had goosebumps raising up on his arms, and her eyes slowly traveled up to his. "I doubt we dance ze same dance..." She said softly, her mind in a confused state of chaos all over again. She would need to dance for four hours next time, because this was just insane, one minute she was calm and totally at peace, sweaty, ready to go to sleep, the next it was chaos all over again. Selene had turned herself off of anything that had to do with anyone besides herself. Her mind was set on one goal, and one goal only, and men just stood in her way. They blocked her path to success and made the mind foggy. His kind of life was not the one she led, she would never lose control of her body, but already she was, and it was scaring her.

But when he said just one dance, she could feel herself being persuaded, he had his hand on her wrist, simply tapping it, but it made goose bumps pop up all over her body, down her legs and up her arms, even her neck had goosebumps and it was clear that she was in fact freezing. "Fine.." She said after pulling away from him, she bent down, grabbed her bag and threw it into a corner, taking off her pants to reveal the shorts underneath again. Her dancing clothes that were much to wimpy for the weather. "Put on some music.. lets go.. I am freezing." She said in her thick accent, her eyes half glaring at him. She blamed him for making her dance again, after having danced for nearly three hours, she was exhausted, and yet, something about him made her want to dance again, whether it was because her mind was in chaos again, or because she really did want to dance with him, she didn't know if she would ever find out.

"I do not know why you would want to dance wiz me.. but I guess eet eez your choice.." She said shaking her head. "I am mostly a ballerina... but whatever you do.. I vill try to learn quickly." She said with a short nod of the head. "I do not like being told I do not know a dance... so you will teach me eef I ask." She said putting her hands on her hips, not really realizing it drew attention to the part that already had enough attention. "Come come.. I am freezing here.... teach me how to dance... 'ow you say..." She stopped for a moment to think and then shook her head, giving up. "Your dance... whatever you do.. I will copy.." She said with a slow nod before she crossed her arms over her chest this time, and stood to one side, waiting for him to dance.

The girl was something that Elijah had experienced many a time. The best way to get models up to scratch was to take them out to a club. They only really understood the most important part and the money bit at the end. Usually it was Elijah’s job to show them the best bit. Perhaps it was because he was the youngest. He didn’t know why it was his job, just that it was, and he embraced every second of it. They did too, after they recognised exactly where they were, that he was still there with him and the hands on her body wasn’t Elijah’s but in fact someone else’s. They relaxed after a while; a while being a little over half an hour. It did every party some good, especially Elijah who probably needed the exercise. One trait he’d retained from his metamorphosis, though, was his metabolism.

Elijah found himself standing opposite the blonde and he couldn’t help but smirk at her. “Copy, will you?” He questioned before shaking his head. “It won’t work.” Elijah closed the gap between them and put his hands experimentally on her hips, testing the waters slightly. “We move as one. I’m sure this kind of dance would have been your kind but space never seems to permit. If you’re the best of the best then you get the room. If not then...well you’re stuck with your floor tile. I have yet to find a partner good enough,” Elijah chuckled and moved his right hand to her lower back. “Still, there’s always hope.”

Taking his wand from his pocket once more, Elijah flicked it at the CD player. The lights flashed and the CD began to turn inside yet what played wasn’t what was on disc itself. Elijah took his hand off of her hip and reached up to take the hair-band from her blonde locks. The hair-band rolled down his hand and onto his wrist, allowing her mane of blonde locks to fall down around her shoulders. “Arms here,” He murmured, tapping his shoulders with his free hand. He dropped it back to her waist and moved even closer to her. “It’s incredibly simple, darlin’... just move your hips against mine. Incredibly simple. Boring in this circumstance though. I tends to be better with a beer and cigarette in hand.” Elijah smirked. “Engage me,” he breathed.

Selene had no idea what was going on anymore. This man had moved so close to her, and she was having a hard time breathing. Which was odd, she had always had complete control of her body, why was it betraying her now? His hands went to her waist and she could feel herself stiffen slightly. She was used to people touching her, but this was different, the way he looked at her was different then what male dancers looked at her like when they lifted her up in dance, this was a different look in his eyes and it scared her slightly. He pulled her hair out of the band, and she felt her eyes close, her hair falling against her shoulders and she quickly opened her eyes again, her mind spinning.

The music started up, and she felt her face go red. Her hands moved to his shoulders and she could feel herself moving closer to him, it was just more comfortable that way. "Move my 'ips? zat eez eet?" She asked shaking her head and looking up at him, startled at her face being so close to his. "I do not dreenk or smoke." She said defiantly. "Dirty 'abits." She said, her eyes landing on the nearly burnt out cigarette behind his ear. "But eef eet eez what you do.." She said and slowly started to move to the music, picking up the beat quickly, her mind on the way the music moved and beat in time, and her body quickly matched its tempo. Her eyes slowly closed and she was carried away by the music, feeling Elijah moving in front of her, her body heating back up, the shivers still wracking her body but not as badly now. Her eyes opened and she found herself looking back up at Elijah. "Am I doing eet right?" She asked slowly, and then stopped and frowned. "I do not know your name.." She said her eyes darting up to look at him again.

The music was drowning the out lyrics the singer was belting it out. Elijah wouldn’t have had it any other way. He kept his eyes on the French girl, a soft smile on his lips as he watched her. Her movements were quite awkward to start off with but Elijah began to guide her. He smirked at her when she questioned him and Elijah brought his other hand back around so it was on her waist. He nodded and moved both of his hands to her back. He placed them flat on the lower region of her back and smiled, “Dip,” he breathed, widening the space between his legs slightly. The dancing always heated Elijah up for reasons both known and unknown to him. He still remained adamant in his belief that it was better in the clubs. The atmosphere was brilliant, the beer was ever flowing and, if you were lucky enough, the sex was fantastic.

“My dirty habits have gotten me into nothing but trouble,” Elijah chuckled, “But one time the cigarettes helped...” It was a cigarette that made him notice the Hufflepuff he loved to dearly. He could remember smoking while standing in some poor Gryffindors innards. After insulting her, she’d stolen his cigarette and proceeded to smoke it. Elijah knew he’d probably become hooked on Chase then and there. Her red hair, the little sultry smile, the indignant, displeased look on her face when he’d insulted her. He knew for sure that he’d wanted her then and there. What Elijah now understood was that he’d probably fallen in love with her in that hour or two. She was the only woman with enough balls to steal his cigarette. It was an unspoken rule, one she’d broken much to his pleasure.

The blonde spoke again, making Elijah snap to attention. He looked at her and smiled. The smile dropped a little when she stopped and Elijah looked at her curiously. “You don’t usually stop halfway-” his smile widened once more, “Elijah Krum, love. Care to offer yours?”

When he dipped her, she simply did what she knew she should do, and dipped for him, but it lacked her normal enthusiasm. She WAS exhausted after all. When she came back up she shook her head and her hair shimmered down over her shoulders again. "Cigarettes? Being 'elpful? I doubt eet." She said lightly, her eyes staring up into his as they continued to dance. They both stopped at the same time, and she smirked. "Elijah.. I 'ave 'eard that name before... Krum.. Krum... " She stopped and froze, her eyes locked onto the man in front of her. "Viktor Krum's son.. ze famous painter?" She asked her eyes wide. "Zat.. no zat eez impossible... You are not 'im... Elijah Krum?" She asked her mouth gaping as she stared at him. No wonder she was getting hot and bothered, he was her favourite artist. His works were the ones she could stare at for hours and not seem to see all of the details. He was a great painter, and an idol of her entire families. "Elijah Krum..." She said and then smiled at him. "I am sorry I waz so rude to you.. I did not know who you were... I am Selene Brun... a fan.." She said nodding her head at him before she slowly moved her hands back up to his shoulders.

"You said you do not stop in ze middle of ze dance correct?" She said and her eyes seemed to twinkle now. It was as though her energy had been restored just by hearing his name spoken aloud to her. She was actually dancing like THIS with THE Elijah Krum. The Man she had idolized for YEARS, his artwork fascinated her, his entire life story was depressing, tragic, and sorrowful, and he also had a girlfriend she knew for a fact (She was a bigger fan of his then she would care to admit). The girl was at the school now, and she had known he had been there, but she had never guessed.. that he would stumble upon her, not her find him.. it was just to crazy and her mind (That had already been in chaos before this) was going into overdrive mode, her face going red and her dancing began to get a bit more enthusiastic.

"I.. I 'ave been following your works for years.. My entire family.. zey idolize you.. I mean to say... we go on family outings to ze art galleries to see your work.." She said and blushed again, as she flicked her head back to get her hair out of her face. It was sure getting hot in here again, now that her body had warmed up in the freezing chamber, and lets just say it wasn't just the dancing that was making her all the more warm.

As soon as she mentioned his father’s name, Elijah cringed, expecting to hear a tirade of how much she adored Quidditch and his father. He heard that enough from a great many people. Even Jack had been mildly impressed by his parentage. Elijah often wondered why no one mentioned his cousin who seemed to have the world at his fingertips but preferred to drift. He often wondered why they never mentioned his uncle Stephan who had managed to make a name for himself in a completely different way his brother had. No, it was always Viktor. He was always Elijah Krum, son of the Bulgarian seeker. He didn’t seem to have his own identity; he was just Viktor Krum’s heir and eldest.

But she didn’t say anything about Quidditch or Bulgaria or Seeker-ing. No, she said painting. Elijah opened his eyes, unaware that he’d closed them, and looked at the girl, searching for signs of bluffing. There were none. Elijah could only nod in disbelief when she questioned his identity – his real identity. She was French and most likely from the Parisian area but he didn’t think she’d know his work. His work was porn with oil paint essentially, well, that was Arnold’s opinion of it. And still the man indorsed Elijah. It was a mystery really. It was tasteful, he believed. So much never went on display, so much was now in storage somewhere in Paris. Elijah didn’t care to know where. Arnold had sold so much because Elijah had painted so much. Yet there were many that were unfinished or discarded, sketches of his daughter, of his son and of his women whom he loved so dearly.

For many, the allusive painting of Ms. Moor was something of fantasy. As far as some were concerned, it had never been painted. Arnold took great joy in framing the pictures and hanging them on the wall of his gallery, teasing everyone with the wonder that was that painting. One day, perhaps the only day, Elijah would let Arnold put Chase on show. He’d never let the man sell her though. No, she was his. That painting was his. He didn’t keep many. That one was his, though, through and through.

“Selene,” Elijah tried the name out on his tongue, the Bulgarian accent creating something different with it. Elijah clucked his tongue and smiled at her. “You are the moon, are you?” He asked her. “It is very pretty, like the beholder,” Elijah complimented her gently.

Her admission genuinely surprised Elijah. He blinked before smiling almost bashfully at her. “You are...too kind,” he said, finding himself at a loss for words. “Your family idolize me?” He questioned hesitantly. “You should deter your siblings from doing so. I am like a black hole, Selene. I will swallow you up and spit you out in a place you can’t even identify. No one wants to be like me and I thank Merlin for that every day. Still, your compliments are appreciated. As per the dance...you don’t really ever stop. You enter the clubs and find a spot then you are there until kick-out time. Shall we continue?”