Vector's Challenge

Chapter Four

Girls Just Want to Have Fun -- homage to Judith Tarr

Edinburgh, ca. September 14, 1995

Emmy Vector Donovan was panting as the final bars of "Misirilou" played. I am so incredibly out of shape, she thought. She hadn't been to her Thursday night dance class since Hogwarts and the University had started up, almost two whole weeks now.

"Well, that's all for this week, ladies," Giana, their instructor, said. "See you on Tuesday."

Most of the other women in the class rushed to get back to the changing room, but Emmy held back from the rush.

"What is it, Emmy?" Giana asked Emmy. Giana was a tall, thin woman, seemingly in her fifties, with faded red hair and clear green eyes, quite unlike the usual stereotype of belly dancers.

Emmy sighed. "This is so embarrassing, Giana."

"What did you do this time, Emmy?" Giana asked, with a smirk on her face.

"Well, I made a bet with one of my colleagues at the school that I teach part-time at -- not the Uni, the children's school -- and if I lose, I might have to perform for the entire school."

"How much time do you have to prepare, dear?"

Emmy let out a breath. "I think about five or six weeks from now until the performance date that I set, which is Halloween night."

"Well, that isn't so bad, Emmy. How much space and time do you have for your dance?"

"Hmm." Emmy thought for a moment. "I'm thinking about an hour max in terms of time -- after all, the littlest ones will probably be a bit bored. I have plenty of floor space for a change, more really than I know what to do with, and that's what's so unnerving."

"Well, you don't want to use too large or too small of an area, dear."

"True. I was also wondering whether I should do a tribal-style or a cabaret."

"Well, the older boys would probably love to see you do a cabaret-style, right?"

"And how. Bunch of hormones, the lot of them. I'd never be able to control them after that." Unless I used spells that would bring the Ministry down on me like a ton of bricks.

"So why are you even considering a cabaret-style? Is there a man whom you want to dance for?"

"Err -- no." Giana snorted disbelievingly. "Oh -- yes, all right, there is. But I don't think it'd do any good if I danced naked for him."

"Is he more interested in men?"

"Giana!"

"Well, is he?"

"I don't think so, although of course you can never tell." Emmy shrugged her shoulders. She sighed and continued on. "The main problem, though, is that he and my brother Mike were in the same class at school."

"Ah. I begin to see the problem."

"Yes. Mike was such an overprotective, insufferable prat my first year that I didn't have a date until I was a seventh-year myself and he'd been six years gone. I'm sure he said something to some point to every male at school about leaving his little sister alone."

"Well, that was many years ago. This man you want should be more courageous now if he is to deserve you."

"True. But I still think that Severus sees me as that flat-chested, four-eyed, awkward, eleven-year-old girl rather than a thirty-year-old woman."

"Mm. So you want to show Severus that you are a woman."

"Yes, without giving those walking hormonal disaster areas ideas."

"Oh, they have ideas no matter what."

"True. What should I do, Giana?"

"I tell you what. Why don't we come up with two routines for you. One for cabaret, and one if you decide to be a chicken and do the tribal style."

"It's not being a chicken, it's being sensible. And besides, if men have ideas no matter what, then I could wear a burlap sack and still give him ideas."

Giana laughed. "A burlap sack! Come, let's talk dance and costume over some coffee. Maybe you could do both routines with an intermission."

And the two women went to change and go out to talk.