Disclaimer: The song is from Moulin Rouge (El De Tango Roxanne) and the characters (Hermione and Draco) belong to J.K Rowling. I do however, own the plot and the dance routine and whatnot.
Feelings I Can't Fight
Reflecting the moonlight, the teen's dress shimmered as she practiced the dance that was born on the streets and in the brothels of Buenos Aires. This passionate dance was hard to master, and her muscles were aching. Refusing to give in, she struggled to move her body to the music. Taking a miscalculated step, she fell to the ground. Sighing she proceeded to haul herself up again, and tried once more. T-A-NGO T-A-NGO her feet spelled as she forced them to co-operate. So immersed in her work, she did not hear the door creak open, nor the sharp intake of breath.
Floundering again, she sighed and stayed on the worn-out floor, finally defeated. She mentally berated herself. She should be disciplined in her dances, well structured! She should not be giving up! As the melody ceased, she felt a presence over the other side of the room. Whipping her head around, she winced at the cracking sound it made. Spying the intruder of her peaceful solace, she identified him and gasped. Silhouetted in the moonlight was a man. But that as not what caused her to gasp. It was the fact that this particular man was her loathed enemy. At her slightly painful intake of breath he smirked. Stepping into the light he dropped his belongings next to the door, and then continued to stride purposefully into the middle of the studio, toward her, the sound of his shoes on the highly polished floorboards tapping lightly. With an air of a king, he gracefully extended his hand down to her, and upon accepting it, she found herself heaved upwards until she was eyelevel with him.
A few moments passed. Suddenly he turned away and walked towards the CD player, his heels echoing around the barren dance studio. Placing the desired CD into the machine and pressing play, and calmly walked back the centre of the room. She had not moved an inch, whether out of amazement or curiosity, she could not fathom why.
As the first soft notes flowed from the speakers, he ran his feather light touch over her face and down her arms. She shivered as he smirked. Slowly he started circling her as a vulture circles his prey. Holding up her head in an almost defiant position, she looked him straight in the eye, with as much hate as she could muster as the beat was introduced.
Taking this as a challenge he closed in on her, taking his tall, rigid stance. Matching the rhythm of the interlude they broke into a slow, lazy tango, kicking up their heels and jerking their heads. She couldn't let him win, it was a matter of pride.
Roxanne, you don't have to put on that red light Roxanne, you don't have to wear that dress tonight.
Walk the streets for money
You don't care if it's wrong or if it is right.
Roxanne, you don't have to sell your body to the night.
As the first, deep voice broke the instrumental, she fund herself lowered into a deep dip, moving clockwise sensually. Not even before the voice had finished its first note, she was thrust up, leaving her breathless. Refusing to meet his eyes she broke free from his grasp, and trailing her hand slowly across his upper anatomy. She circled him once, before coming to his front. Quickly she dropped to her knees, in turn making him gasp. She smirked. Tantalizingly, almost teasingly, her hands made their way up his body coming to a rest on his chest. Pushing lightly, she swiftly turned and started to walk away.
His eyes upon your face
His hand upon your hand
His lips caress your skin
Not wanting to be outdone, he rushed forward and yanked on her trailing hand, sending her crashing into his chest. Caught off guard she was quite unprepared when he spun her outwards, then inwards again. Finally catching her bearings, she swayed her hips, showcasing her well oiled back. With skilled precision he flipped her so her back was pressed against his front. Breathing hard and feeling his eyes on her face, she turned her head away as if rejecting him. Once again he tried sliding his hand down her sweaty body before he reached her own delicate hand, grasping it lightly. Her head remaining where it was he placed his delectable, sweet lips against her soft skin, before yanking her around and dipping her. Running his hand down the centre of her body, he suddenly pulled her up until their faces were no more than an inch apart.
It's more than I can stand
Slowly he circled her once again, before lashing out with his arm. Quickly, before his arm could make contact, she bent backwards. He grabbed her waist and spun her around once, twice, three times so she was bent backward, facing away from him. With a passionate fire burning in her eyes, she kicked up her heels, before wrapping one leg around his waist. As he started to run his hand down her outer thigh, she jumped away from him and stood still for a few moments.
You're free to leave me
But just don't deceive me
And please
Believe me when I say
I love you
Glancing up briefly, she made the mistake of catching his penetrating gaze. Quickly she cast her eyes downwards. Seeing this he lashed out and grabbed her, yanking her against his body once again engaging in the frenzy of the antagonism. As the music exploded she pushed away from him, almost loosing her footing. Circling him in a spin, she threw her body against his back, bringing her knee up once again. As he reached to caress the tempting skin flashed at him, she jumped back. As he turned around she launched her body at him. Expecting to surprise him, she was the one who was shocked when she felt his hands around her waist, lifting her up towards the ceiling.
ROXANNE!!!
After a few moments had passed, he gently slid her down his body until her feet were able to touch the ground once again. As the song finished he looked into her eyes, their bodies still pulled flush against one another. Her face was so close to his he could count every freckle scattered across her elegant nose, and every speck of gold in her entrancing, brown eyes. She too could see all his features that he held in high esteem. From the curve of his exquisite lower lip, on which she longed to place her own rosy lips, to the way his blonde hair fell gracefully into his azure eyes.
As the CD player clicked off, they are submerged in silence. Coming to her senses she slowly disentangles her limbs from his, although she secretly never wanted the saintly embrace to end. Once free, she regretfully turned to gather her things. She should never have come tonight. Turning back, once she reached the door, a small smile graced her beautiful features. She then left, leaving her liberator silhouetted once more in the moonlight.
Feelings I can't fight…