A/N: I do not own any of these characters, JK Rowling does.
Impossibility
Oneshot
"How did you end up dancing with that… git?!"
Ron was shaking his head in disbelief as he was pulling Hermione aside while the dancing behind them continued.
The young girl's face was flushed, but it was hard to see where that came from: excitement, embarrassment or just the dancing.
She scanned the crowd with her eyes and looked for the person all this was about: Draco Malfoy.
He had left the dance floor and was now at the back of the Great Hall where all the drinks and refreshments were located.
"Bloody hell, you came here with me!" the redhead sounded furious.
She shot him a glare and put her hands on her hips.
"For God's sake Ronald, you were talking to Lavender! Now don't expect me to wait there for you while all the fun is going on here! Now if you would excuse me, I'm dying for a drink."
With that, she turned away and left him standing there, fuming. He really didn't get it, did he?
"Fine then" he muttered, and looked out for Lavender, just to see her dancing very provokingly with Seamus.
"Just great"
Hermione had reached the drinks table and got herself something. She wasn't really that thirsty, but now that she was here, she might as well help herself.
Leaning casually against the wall, she sipped her drink and thought.
The beat was enthralling, pulsating through her. He was standing somewhere else, talking to some other girl.
Right now, she didn't care. She was entangled in rhythm, yet free from all boundaries. The music grew louder. She knew the words.
She loved it, the feeling of the pulse, the free flow of bodies around her, her own body moving with them.
But there was something missing. She was dancing with everyone else, but to her own music. She needed someone who shared that music, that inner rhythm that made her comfortable and united with that partner.
He wasn't there. She kept on looking.
She didn't know who he was. She kept on searching.
Making her way through all that motion, she tried all of them, dared them to go further still, to the level she was on. Her wavelength.
Where are you?
A flash of liquid silver, a ray of black. Grey and deep, luring her towards them.
'Try me', they were saying.
She obeyed. Did she have a choice?
He was dancing with someone else. Did she care?
No. He was calling her.
She pushed her aside, subtly, just glided into that space she hadn't filled in completely but in which she fitted perfectly.
That girl still hadn't noticed that he was dancing with someone else, moving on from someone who didn't have his wavelength.
They got closer with the music and like waves went apart, longing for the moment in which their bodies would slightly touch, not touch, again.
When they were close, they already regretted the moment in which they had to separate again. Nothing was as perfect as the moment itself.
The light was flashing, contorting every shape into something else, forming wild figures in the roar of movement.
The beat slowed down, making them move slower, adapting to the rhythm. They were in accord, their movements simultaneous, attuned to each other.
He moved closer to her and grabbed her waist while she wrapped her arms around his neck.
She couldn't help what she was doing, even though she knew who he was. Her body simply reacted to what he was provoking in her.
"I see that you have a hard time forgetting what just happened" a voice suddenly whispered close to her left ear.
She just turned her head a little towards him to acknowledge his words and presence.
"What a pity…Weaselbee's all alone now."
"That's not true. He's still got…"
"You?" he interrupted her, a sarcastic smile forming around his lips.
She opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly couldn't think of anything. No smart remark, no comeback.
"Yes, I thought so" he smirked.
For some reason, that made her want to hit something. She flung her glass at the wall, watching it shatter into pieces.
She turned away from him and wanted to walk away, but he caught her by the arm and turned her towards him.
He was frowning, his eyes questioning.
Annoyed, Hermione growled and tore herself from him and went to sit on a chair on the opposite side of the hall, putting her head in her hands.
Lifting her eyes, she looked at the dance floor again. She didn't feel any of the emotions she had had just a few minutes ago.
She lifted her head and positioned it on his shoulder, letting herself into it. His warm hands traveled up and down her back, enclosing her completely.
What was she doing with him
After what seemed for an eternity, but never long enough, his arms suddenly let go of her and he backed away. She looked up into those deep pools of grey, but they were unresponsive this time, fixating something behind her.
She turned around. Ugh. Ron.
He grabbed her hand with his own, rough one, and pulled her away, a never-ending flow of swearing escaping his lips, getting her towards her starting position.
Draco had left the dance floor for a drink.
Harry was dancing with Ginny, the two of them having gotten closer to each other every moment passing.
He must be there as well, enjoying himself. What a strange thought.
Somebody cleared his throat, a pale hand reached out towards her.
Invitingly close, yet far enough to leave her a choice.
She didn't look up, for fear of meeting two mocking eyes that were just going to have a sarcastic glint in them. She wanted him to leave.
Her mind wanted to, anyway, but she didn't.
And so, without her doing anything, her eyes slowly rose just to be locked in a long gaze she couldn't turn from.
The music around and inside her grew louder, they were irresistible now. She resisted the urge for a long, painful second before giving in and reaching for him.
She could see from his face that that was what he had wanted her to do, yet he had hoped she would say no.
It had all been up to her. Her grip around his hand tightened, realizing that and not willing to let go now.
His did the same.
She smiled inwardly, not showing what she felt. Neither did he. They were in sync.
They started moving, she was laughing. A slight smile tugged at his lips. He whirled her around, and for a moment, forgot that she was someone he didn't have anything to do with.
'Why not?' would have been an appropriate thought.
Her hair that had been pinned up at the beginning of the evening was now flying freely behind her, occasionally touching his cheek.
Never disturbing that feeling of privacy that had grown between them, he reduced the space that kept her distant. She was too far away from him.
It seemed that she felt the same way as she didn't push him away.
Two arms suddenly grabbed him from behind and threw him to the ground, away from all the people dancing.
Hermione's eyes widened and she walked up to Ron who was standing above Draco, ready to punch him.
"Go find someone else to do your dirty dancing on, Malfoy."
"How dare you touch me with your filthy hands, Weasley. You'll regret this!"
He stood up and walked up to Ron, his high figure towering over him. His face was just a few centimeters away from the redhead's.
"Are you threatening me?" Ron's voice was slightly shaking.
"Why would I threaten you?" he demanded, his voice mocking. "What sort of waste would that be, what do you think?"
"Just…just stay away"
"It's not like I was doing anything, was I? What would I do with someone like her anyway?" He glanced at Hermione who was looking at him, hurt masked by anger.
He turned away abruptly and left them both standing there. Ron made a move towards the young girl standing there, lost, but she just whirled around and left hurriedly. Out of sight, she started running.
They both knew what they had felt just then.
But what was a feeling, compared to all those people surrounding them?
It was impossibility.