I've been listening to far too many tango instrumentals lately and taking trips down memory lane. This is the result. Have fun with it!
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Hermione looked up at the bright vivid green eyes in sheer desperation. She couldn't do this. Give her ten most complicated potions, hell, give her transfiguration, Hogwarts history…anything but this. Harry stopped moving and sighed in resignation.
"Hermione, you need to actually move to dance. I can't just push you around. 'C'mon move with me." He tried again to gently push her into moving with the rich and fiery rhythm of the current piece of music. She didn't budge. There was no point – it's just not her dance. Tango. This darn dance has been bugging her for the last two weeks. All the graduating students needed to learn the three necessary dances for the last ball – waltz, foxtrot and, unfortunately, tango. Even if they were coming additionally for this year, even if they were older than the rest of the students….even if they saved the bloody world, they still had to learn it.
Hermione had no desire to actually go to the dancing classes when she had so little time to prepare for the NEWT's. Also, the small fact that she made a fool of herself for the first two lessons, made it easier to find a reason to skip them. She had to confess, to herself at least, that she was a sore loser in any class. Hermione Granger was just not used to fail at anything, really. That's why the "brightest witch of her age" was currently standing in the middle of the Room of Requirement with Harry Potter holding her snugly against his lean frame and trying to make her move somehow. It wasn't working.
Pushing her friend away she gently shook her head and reached for her wand to stop the music. In the eerie silence she sighed:
"I can't, Harry, I honestly can't do this. If it was something I could learn, like waltz, sure, but this is just ridiculous. There is no rhyme or reason to this stupid dance!" Harry just sighed and scratched the back of his head in resignation.
"Mione, if you don't even try to understand how it works I can't teach you!" he seemed exasperated at his friend's unusual unwillingness to learn "I know I'm not the best tutor, but remember Ron was worse!" That made them both giggle. Even if they were all a little broken and scarred, there were still happy moments when the memories of the war slipped into the background for a second. Hermione remembered fondly the way her boyfriend, Ron, tried to teach her. He was always straightforward with everything, so she just ended up thrown around the room by the sheer weight and body mass of her redhead. That was until he got pissed at her inability to follow and Harry took over the tuition. He was by far more patient…and a bit less forceful about it, but Hermione still couldn't figure this bloody dance out.
"I don't understand how it works, Harry. I mean how can I follow, if I have no idea what you will do next? I can't just keep guessing!"
"Uhh…well I tried to explain, you don't figure it out, you have to feel it, or something. That's how McGonagall explained it to us, at least."
"Right. Has anyone managed to actually do it?" The fussy witch asked with a raised brow. She was very doubtful of it.
"Yeah, a few people, actually…but not many. It would be a shame if you could not learn something they could…" He told her, hoping to bring out the Gryffindor competitiveness in her. Maybe then his stubborn friend will take this seriously.
"Like who, for example?" she demanded louder. It was beyond belief that someone could actually follow these vague instructions.
"That is…well…co…couple of Ravenclaws, the blonde girl, Abby, I think, and her friend Rose. Also a few Slytherins, that Hufflepuff with curly brown hair... But the best is probably…" he trailed off, not really wanting to say it out loud.
"Yes…?" she pushed further, madly curious who the heck it may be.
"You won't like it…"
"Why should I care, just tell me, I'm plain curious now!"
"Malfoy."
"Excuse me?" she stared at the green eyes in disbelief. There is no way, she must have heard wrong.
"You heard me. The prat is ridiculously good at it, I have no idea how. Not that I want to admit it, but it's kind of impressive." Harry reluctantly praised the sworn enemy…well, not really an enemy any more. He walked to an armchair in the corner and heavily fell into it. Malfoy was surprisingly quiet all year, he attended classes, ate in the great hall from time to time, but other than that…he kept to himself. Harry still had a hard time forgiving the Malfoy heir for all the hell he and his family raised, but seeing the bastard so dimmed made him wonder if maybe he really was regretting all of it. Maybe this war changed him, just like the rest of them.
And now they were all back at school, it seemed surreal – going to classes, eating, sleeping. It all seemed like a dream to Harry, but he knew it won't last very long. There was only one week left before the exam season starts… and that means only one dancing lesson was left. Looking at the head of bushy hair bouncing toward him just to flop into nearby armchair he understood all too well – their little dancing lessons were doomed. When he turned to Hermione to let her know that much, she was staring at him in a calculative way.
"I want him to teach me, then." She stated flatly.
"Mione, have you lost it completely?" harry asked in disbelief "It's Draco bloody Malfoy we are talking about! He will eat you alive or die laughing before he even agrees to it!"
"I highly doubt it. He's changed drastically after the war. The bastard doesn't bother people for fun anymore, he eats alone, studies alone…It's even a bit concerning. Also, he owes us, Harry. He owes me. We all stood up for him during the court and that is why he's still here, not in Azkaban. I think that's reason enough. Don't worry about his sharp tongue, if that's your main concern, I can handle that much." The brown haired girl refused to back down, even if it seemed near impossible.
"Well…alright, I'll try to talk him into it, though I really doubt he'll agree to any of this. But you will have to speak to Ron - he will be pissed about it. Probably more than Malfoy…" Harry resigned to at least try, even if there was little hope. He will do this for Hermione.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x—x-x-x-x-x-x-x
After the next day's lesson, in which Hermione chose not to participate, Harry came back to the main room quite grim. Feeling her hopes being crushed by the look on her friend's face she still resolved to ask how it went.
"Harry, how was the lesson?" she asked as neutrally as she could, looking up form transfiguration textbook.
"The lesson, or the chat with Malfoy?" the green eyes young man asked, flopping into one of the cozy chairs wearily.
"Both."
"Well, the lesson was pretty nice, McGonagall chose three best students for the three last dances…Neville was chosen for waltz…" he babbled, stalling.
"Okay, okay, I lied, just tell me about the talk with Malfoy!" Hermione whined, not having the patience for her friend's antics. Laughing Harry took a moment to weigh his words.
"It…went better, than expected." He started, amused by the glint in Hermione's eyes. She really shouldn't be so happy about the prospect of dancing with Malfoy. "He thought I hit my head first two minutes and called me mad for the remaining three…but I managed to talk him into teaching you. I guess he just wanted to be able to hold something over you, Hermione…so you might expect stupid insults and so on. You know, Malfoy being Malfoy?"
Her face lit up despite the warning. At least he agreed, and that was a win in itself. The Slytherin might be reluctant to do it, but she knew he won't allow her to fail after tutoring her – that would show his inability to teach." We lived with it for years, I imagine I can deal with another few hours. When do we start?"
"Tonight, after dinner. Did you tell Ron?"
Hermione winced, remembering the nasty conversation she had with her boyfriend. He was a bit possessive and that was mostly fine, she had no interest in finding someone else, but the irrational nature of his behavior made her cringe a bit. "I did, we had a tiny little…row, I guess…but he agreed as long as you and he both will be present."
"I expected worse." Harry smiled at her "But staying in the same room might be problematic…we do have bad history."
"Well, you two will have to behave…" Hermione trailed off, wondering how this whole scene will play out.
That evening, when she nervously pushed the door open in the middle of the Room of Requirement stood a tall dark figure – Draco Malfoy – dressed in muggle trousers and a black turtleneck. Back straight and eyes distant he looked directly at her without any emotion. Breathing in deeply Hermione stepped into the room and closed the door behind Ron.
"Hello, Granger."
"Malfoy."
"I was told you apparently sorely lack in the department of dance, especially in tango. Why am I not surprised? It's not something you can learn by sheer stubborn studying…" he trailed off taking in her appearance – plain blouse, a big Gryffindor scarf and a knee length fluffy dancing skirt. Light pink. She hated the skirt by the look of it. To be honest, so did he.
"Well, that's why you are here, if you really are so good at it, I'm sure you can teach me." She countered dryly. Hermione knew she needs to be prepared for this, so the response was ready on the tip of her tongue.
"I'm not quite as sure, Granger." He gave another appraising look, it started to make her uncomfortable.
"And why is that, if I may ask?"
"You're frigid." He answered without a second of doubt. Hermione felt her face flare. How dare he?
"Listen, you sick fuck, shut your mouth or I will shut it for you!" Ron roared beside her. Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin "This is my girlfriend you are talking about! You are only here because she wanted you to be, so be grateful we're not bashing your ugly face in!"
"I am eternally in your debt, Weasel." The blond man answered tonelessly. There was no fear in his eyes, but no anger ether, looking at the stormy gray orbs she started to wonder which one of them is frigid. The little scene made her blush disappear and she could face him again. The bastard. Harry interrupted her gathering resolve by shushing both young men.
"Come on, stop it! This is stupid. Ron, calm down. Malfoy, stop being an asshole and start teaching, will you."
"As you wish your highness." Malfoy bowed in the general direction of the 'boy who lived' and reached his hand out to Hermione "Come, then, Granger."
She hesitantly walked forward with a scowl on her face and reached for his hand. It was surprisingly cool and soft. Pulling her closer Malfoy slid a hand around her waist, but Hermione seemingly refused to move closer to him – she kept a decent distance between their bodies. "This is not waltz, fool, come closer." He demanded impatiently, but to her surprise made no move to pull her to him forcibly. After momentary surprise the Gryffindor girl stepped a little closer and let him press her upper body against his chest, wrapping his arm around her whole body with ease. Harry didn't hold her so close when they tried this before and the proximity along with the strangely pleasant smell of the cursed Slytherin made her a little heady.
"Potter, some music if you don't mind."
When the relatively slow tango filled the room, he whispered into her ear "Ready?" and surprisingly waited for her to nod numbly before trying to push her back a little for the first steps. The tiny girl moved alright, but it was almost robotic. Hermione was in panic. She had not anticipated her own reaction to any of this…The body heat radiating from his chest, the light push of his body, making her move, it was all too overwhelming to let her actually move properly. Thus she clung to him for dear life and hoped he will just push her around, like Ron, with enough force to make her actually move. But unfortunately he didn't. "What's the matter, Granger? You forgot how to move your feet?" he asked not too quietly into her ear.
"It's your job, isn't it? To push me around the floor." She hissed back. That very moment she was free of the warm embrace – her dancing partner took a good step back, looking at her like she's just grown a second head.
"You don't push women around in tango, stupid…witch." Malfoy barked, hands on his hips, as if scolding a small child. "If you don't even know that much…" he looked sideways at Harry, who shook his head sternly "…we have a long way to go."
"And how is it not the case?" she asked indignant. However you looked at it, that's what all the men did, as much as she has seen.
"It defeats the purpose." The platinum blonde answered flatly, as if it was common sense. Seeing she still had no idea what he means, he elaborated "The purpose of tango is for the man to worship the woman, so any kind of forcefulness is unacceptable."
Hermione stared at the stormy gray eyes trying to figure out if this is some sort of joke, but found only serious intent. "W-worship?" she stammered out, almost pierced to the spot by the intense gaze – like a butterfly pinned to the board.
"Indeed. It appears we will have a lot to learn." He sighed in resignation and took her hand once again, this time stepping closer to hold her against his body a little looser. "First, you will need to learn to walk, so that is what we'll do. I step forward with my left foot, and you step back with your right. Opposite of waltz. Now let's try…One. Two . Three. Step."
She took a good step back on his mark, but the pale brow still furrowed. "No, not like that. Don't just trot like a mule." Hermione felt embarrassment stain her cheeks red once more and tried to step back, but his hand held her firmly, even when she squirmed.
"Hey, get your hands off her, bastard!" Ron bristled immediately. It was enough to make both the girl and her teacher freeze.
"If I will, there's not much I can teach her." Draco answered levelly. "And if you intend to keep yelling and interrupting us every time I move my finger the wrong way, you might as well leave the room, Weasley."
"Like hell I'm leaving!" the redhead yelled coming closer to the pair. This time it was Hermione, who stopped him.
"Ron, I need you to let me do this. I want to dance with you in the ball, I want to make that day special for the both of us, so please…Please let me try. If he will not help me, I promise to stop, but I need to try…" she spoke as gently as she could, closing the gap between them and giving her boyfriend a peck on his lips. "But Mione…" he tried and got another peck. "Alright, fine. But I won't watch this, or I'll kill him. Don't stay alone with him." The curly haired girl just nodded and let her boyfriend slip out of her embrace and disappear through the door. Harry stood in the corner unmoving like a statue and refused to interfere. Taking a steadying breath Hermione turned back around to face her partner, still standing patiently in the middle of the room.
At least three songs have changed over that period of time, and the forth one was rather fiery even for a tango. With purpose she strode back to Malfoy and stood inches away. "So how do I step, if what I did before is wrong?" she asked a bit irritated. Instead of an answer he took her hand and drew her back into the snug standard hold of Tango. Only when she relaxed a fraction, he spoke. "Tango dancers are cats on a tightrope…" Malfoy whispered close to her ear, voice low and smooth – almost like a purr of a very large cat. It made her shiver lightly. "You don't walk, you slide your feet, never lifting them up off the floor fully. One fluid motion between the man and the woman. You step back…" and she did, almost automatically, sliding her left foot back against the floor "And I follow in your footsteps, filling the space you just left…like a predator stalking prey." He continued, taking a measured, elegant step forward. "Again."
For long minutes, seemingly hours, they walked around the room learning various ways in which you can step – directly, diagonally, in reverse - and she slowly let his rhythm take over. It was pleasantly slow and steady. Never forceful, never hurried - almost hypnotic and Hermione started to feel the magnetic pull between their feet. When she pulled away he followed smoothly as if drawn by an invisible force, when he nudged her foot to the side, she stepped without resistance. There was no need to look down, so she just closed her eyes and let her body relax a little. As much as she could, that is, with his body pressed closely enough, that her hair could easily tickle his cheek and his breath smoothed over her ear. She fully gave into the rhythm so his voice in her ear nearly made her jump. "Good, you feel it now."
"O-okay, so what's next?" Hermione asked quietly, surprised how timid she sounded, even to herself.
"Now you need to learn to stand properly and not cling to me so desperately." He answered still beside her ear. She could almost hear the smirk. The girl's blood boiled in a second.
"Well, excuse me for holding on to you, you git, but considering you press me so darn close I don't really have an option, now do I?" Pushing away a bit she couldn't help her tone rising with every word. By the end of the sentence it echoed in the nearly empty room. The only answer was a chuckle.
"How very Gryfindor of you, but there is no need to get violent so quickly. All I'm saying is that this dance requires separate weight centers for both dancers." The tall blonde explained in a very calm and almost teacher like tone. Despite it, Hermione could still hear the smirk in his tone and see it hidden in the clear, cool eyes. He was enjoying this too damn much. Deciding not to give the Malfoy heir pleasure of irritating her, Hermione lowered her voice and tried to stop the blood pumping in her veins violently. It was making her blush – again. "How so? I can't stop holding you…"
Well that came out wrong…One elegant brow rose questioningly and a small smile appeared on the usually sneering face. "I'm glad to hear that you find me so irresistible. What I meant, however, is that no matter how close the partners are each still stands on their own weight center, never fully relinquishing their power to the other. It's a dance that gives equal rights to both dancers." Next moment he was holding her at arm's length, his rather large palms curled around her shoulders. Somehow this was worse than the tight hold – she actually had to look at him. Even with the usual snide demeanor all she could see was haunted grey eyes and his skin so very pale against the black wool of the turtleneck. The Slytherin looked bone weary, even if he tried his best to hide it. She could only guess he has his nightmares, just like her and Harry, and Ron. Pushing the gloomy thoughts out of her head she concentrated on the moment.
"So w-what do I do? Just stand here?"
"No, we'll move, just like before, but this time imagine there's a rope going through the center of your body. You stand perfectly straight and it holds you up, connected to the floor and the ceiling. Even if you lift your foot up, even when you move, the rope is always there, holding you up, so there is no need to give your personal power over to your partner. Now close your eyes and try seeing it. When you see it, nod, and we will move again. " Draco spoke quietly, almost clinical detachment mixing with something else in his low baritone. It strangely made her feel safer – the detached tone. Hesitantly Hermione closed her brown eyes and tried to imagine the rope, still feeling his palms on her shoulders. It took a moment to imagine it, to see it clearly, but she did and nodded slowly.
"And…one, two, three. Step." He whispered, barely pushing her back into the familiar slide. It felt different now, with her eyes closed and the weight of Malfoy further away, the Gryffindor could feel her own center. It was a bit unstable at first, but he practically let her move as she wanted barely holding her up at all, so soon she was forced to find her own balance and along with it the growing trust. Not in him, but in her own ability to keep herself up, to step knowing she will stand straight whether he will hold her up or not. Power. It was intoxicating.
"Good. Feel it." He spoke quietly, as if afraid to lose the momentum "Step into your own power. You don't need me. Your partner is just here because you want him to be, not because you need it. We are in this dance together by free choice." Without breaking rhythm he stepped closer, sliding his hand round her waist and she let him. It changed nothing. When Hermione chose to open her eyes she was met with his cool silvery orbs staring at her intently, watching for the smallest waver in her pose. So he was looking out for her after all, even if she stood on her own now. Without thinking twice she put her hand on his shoulder, not for support, but simply for contact – it felt better this way.
Despite the bickering Hermione had to acknowledge, that this was the most pleasurable dancing lesson she had ever had. His voice, his touch…it felt so good, even when it really shouldn't. This was Draco Malfoy – the insufferable sodden aristocrat they hated for years, and yet that was what made him attractive. He was an aristocrat, through and through. Beneath the snide remarks and learned cruelty there was poise, dignity, and impeccable manners. Hermione Granger really hated the fact she always liked this sodden aristocrat. Somehow it probably showed, because one corner of his lips rose up barely noticeably. Trying to dissolve the strange electrified silence she spoke up.
"So what's next, professor?"
"Nothing." He answered, still tracking her every expression "That is all for today. If you want to further practice, I think Potter can help you with that. Just kindly don't involve your beloved ginger. That Neanderthal might undo all my hard work. "
"Wait a second! I haven't learned anything, except for walking! It's not enough to dance!" Like hell she was about to let him leave now, when it's actually going somewhere.
"No it's not. That is why you'll need further lessons, Granger. More than one, I imagine." He countered releasing her and turning away towards the door. Throwing a glance over his shoulder Malfoy added "Meet me here in two days, after dinner, and do try not to forget what you learned till then. Potter." With a small nod towards Harry he walked out without looking back and Hermione was left to stand in the middle of the large stone room by herself.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Standing in front of the Room of Requirement for the second time Hermione sighed in both apprehension and relief. She had practiced with Harry for a bit in the last two days, but it wasn't the same. She tired with Ron too, but that went downhill very quickly. One lesson in dancing was enough for her to understand how overbearing Ron could be while dancing… and not only dancing. War changed him, Ron, and though it brought them together, now it was almost tearing them apart. His constant temper tantrums were getting out of hand lately…pushing the thought out of her head Hermione stepped through the door just t o find the room empty. A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace, there were candles around the room, making the stone walls seem cozy. The armchairs were there as well, just like last time, only there were no Harry and no Malfoy. Has he forgotten? As if answering her thoughts the door opened quietly and the devil himself stepped though, this time wearing a rather large bottle green sweater. Taking a good look around the room Malfoy turned towards her.
"Evening, Granger. Where is your chaperone?" he asked lightly.
"My what?"
"I mean Potter. Should I wait outside till he shows up? We wouldn't want your weasel trying to kill me, now would we?"
"If you stopped insulting Ron, maybe he wouldn't be so akin to bash your head in?" even if Ron was a bit out of it, he was still her boyfriend, so the remark made her bristle. Damn Malfoy.
"I highly doubt it. And where would be the fun in that?" he answered smirking.
"You were not at dinner today. Where were you?" she changed the subject before it got out of hand. It was bugging her for a while now. Malfoy rarely ate in the great hall, only couple days a week, at best. She always wondered where did he eat? Or if he ate at all.
"I beg your pardon? How is that any of your business, Granger?" the blond bit back, scorching her with an affronted look.
"Well, I noticed you rarely eat at the great hall, so I just wondered…I'm just trying to keep a polite conversation…"
"Then kindly don't. Where the hell is Potter? We can't wait for him the whole evening."
"Fine. Let's start then, he will come around any minute." She gave up even trying to be polite. This was Malfoy after all.
"If you say so." He flicked his wand towards the horn in the back of the room and music flooded the empty space. Coming closer he reached out his hand. Hermione took it without second thought.
"So what are we learning today?" the curly haired girl asked. She gave up her stupid skirt from the last lesson. This time it was replaced by simple leggings and long, nearly knee length sweater. It was a bit chilly after all.
"Trust." He answered curtly. Linking her hand with his Draco took the last step to close the distance between their bodies.
"That doesn't sound good…" Hermione started suspicious. Trusting someone, whom you considered enemy for years, was not that easy.
"I'd imagine it doesn't. But look at the bright side, Granger, if you can learn to trust me, everyone else will be easy." There was no bite in his voice, the blonde Slytherin was simply stating a fact.
"And how do you intend to teach me?" She was still not satisfied with the lack of information on what this 'trust' entails.
"Firstly, we will learn to turn. Let's start with a step. Ready?" he stepped forward easily coaxing the tiny girl to follow. "Now you will have to let me turn your body without trying to stop me or calculate how much I can spin you. You will have to learn to trust me to know your limits. The man in tango has the duty to know every single second the position of his own body and the body of his lady. To observe where your body mass is located, which leg you are standing on, so he could move and turn you safely and with ease. First, put all your weight on one foot and lift the other up a little. Can you still stand comfortably?"
"I can…I guess."
"Good." He took half a step back, still holding her hand and waist safely. "Now I will turn you on the foot you stand on. Let me." He instructed tonelessly. The distance she might have felt diminishing during the last lesson was back. He did turn her, slowly and steadily pushing her tiny frame back, but since Hermione had no idea how far he will turn her, instinctively she put her foot down for safety. "Granger! I told you, let me decide how far it will go."
"Right, well sorry! But how the heck I am supposed to know just how far will you turn me? I really don't feel like splattering myself on the floor." She bit back a little irritated. It was not her forte, to let someone take control, at least not with anything concerning her body. Her little outburst was met with a sigh.
"Look, I know you are the brain of this golden trio, you are the one used to plan and calculate everything…that's why I told you, you will need to learn trust. I'm well aware, that I am not the best person for your first lesson, but if you want to dance Tango, you will have to step over that line." He looked down at her patiently, instead of anger, his voice was surprisingly gentle. Looking straight into her big brown eyes he spoke almost in a whisper "I will not let you fall, no matter what. It's my duty to make sure you are safe and comfortable every minute of our dance and I would rather break my arm than let you fall, do you understand?"
She couldn't breathe. The gentle tone, the serious, attentive expression on his face made her want to cry for some reason. If she was earnest with herself, Hermione was afraid for people to hurt her if she lets them, especially men. But the shatteringly honest gentleness that filled his eyes for a moment, slowly made the line she drew within her mind – her safety barrier - start to blur.
"Look at me, Granger, and tell me, am I lying?"
"No…" She was trembling now, and for some reason, couldn't stop, no matter how hard she tired.
"Shhh…Let's try again, slowly." Draco carefully pushed the tiny girl in his arms back an inch, then two taking a measured step forward and never losing her gaze. She felt so warm and fragile in his arms, like a little bird fluttering nervously in his grasp. He was determined to keep at least this little bird safe. Inch by inch they were slowly turning and Hermione didn't fight him anymore, but the Slytherin could still feel her fear "It's alright, see? You're safe." He cooed softly as they came full circle, all around her axis, and he let her stand again. "Was that so bad?"
"N-no…sorry, I guess I just panicked before." She looked down sheepishly, unable to meet his gaze anymore. The Gryffindor could distinctly feel every contact point – her palm almost drowned in his larger one, the blonde's hand on her waist, holding her securely. Why it didn't feel like that before? Why does it burn her skin only now?
"Do you want to try again? Maybe a little faster this time?"
"Okay. Just not too fast…?" Hermione dared a peek at his face and found a small, warm smile there. "Not too fast." He agreed quietly and pushed her back lightly into the tango slide. They walked around varying steps for a minute before he stopped them both only to turn her body to the right slowly. The fact, that his dancing partner only tensed for a second made Draco stupidly happy for some unknown reason. They repeated the step and turn sequence again and again, getting faster and better at it every time. The fact they were still alone in the large room slipped into the background, unnoticed by either of the dancers – the snake and the lion were lost in a world of their own.
"Are you ready to try something new?" Draco whispered into her ear after another fluent turn. She was relaxed and soft in his arms, no trace of fear left. "Hmmm? Sure…" Hermione answered a little hazy. Her face was pressed snugly into the crook of his neck and his body heat made her feel almost boneless, even if she still stood firmly on her own feet. Suddenly Hermione felt her tutor spin her body rather quickly to the right and his body started to dip a little. Pushed out of her center of gravity she instinctively raised her free leg to wrap it around his thigh for support. Still off balance she slid forward, so very closely into his body, her breasts pressed against his chest and a surge of heat traveled down her spine in a second.
"Dr- Malfoy, what are you doing?" Hermione lifted her face up to scold him but the reprimand died on her lips. The pale, angular face was inches away from her, eyes alight with mischief and something that resembled joy.
"Very good." He whispered so very close to her lips, a tiny crooked smile on his face "You didn't even hesitate for a second." The blonde rose back up to full height stepping forward. Only then Hermione felt his hand let go of her palm and hook into the back of her knee, keeping her leg up and around his hip when they stood. The brightest witch of her age knew her face was flaming. She absently wondered how her hair hadn't caught fire yet.
And of course, that was the lucky moment the door decided to fly open. Hermione already started to formulate her explanation for Harry…just it wasn't Harry in the doorway. Mop of red hair was telling enough. A furious looking Ron staggered through the door looking at the pair, still locked in the intimate embrace.
"Get your fucking hands of my girl, you freak!" he roared, though the words seemed a little jumbled "I knew this was a bad idea, to let you come here with this sick bastard."
"Weasley, we are just dancing, calm down. There is no need to exaggerate, it's not like we're snogging in here." Malfoy tried calmly, but couldn't help the sneer slipping into his voice. He let the girl go instantly, taking a small step back from her, but never loosing contact completely. The blonde could smell firewhisky on the other young man from meters away. Pathetic.
"Of course you wouldn't be…she won't even let ME grope her about, so why should she let you?" the ginger sneered, looking from one dancer to the other. Hermione stood there frozen. He didn't. She didn't want to believe the man she called her boyfriend would say something like this to her, not in front of other people. How could he humiliate her so? Tears started to sting her eyes and she quickly closed them to try and stop herself from crying.
"Weasley…" Malfoy's tone suddenly turned icy, bearing a not too subtle warning. "This is your own woman you are talking about, chew your words before you spit them out."
"Like you care! Why are you doing this, huh? To try and gain our trust for another filthy plan, or is it just to get a good squeeze because no other girl would let you touch her with those filthy hands?" The young Weasley was getting redder in the face by the second, blotches of the color appeared below his face, peppering his neck. He looked almost completely out of control and it only took him a second to launch at the Slytherin. Draco sidestepped the attack easily, putting himself in between Hermione and Ron. Unfortunately that was the moment Hermione, being the Gryffindor she is, chose to walk towards her boyfriend.
"Ron, please, calm down. You had too much. I'm sorry I came here without Harry, but he was late and we just decided to practice until he shows up…Please, stop it." She came close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder, trying to calm him down.
"Oh, right Harry was just late, so you decided to take the chance to let that bloody murderer grope your ass for the time being? Am I not good enough for you? My prick's not good enough?" Ron asked seemingly lost in the drunken haze. He grabbed Hermione's shoulders and shook her violently watching the brown eyes grow wide in shock. Her disbelief only made him angrier. Without thinking he raised his hand but before it came down to connect with the curly haired girl's face, a pale palm wrapped around his wrist and pulled the drunk Gryffindor away, bending his hand behind his back in a secure hold.
The door swung open at that very moment and a panting Harry fell through it. "Sorry I forgot…What the hell?" he asked in a startled voice.
He took a second to absorb the scene in front of him. Hermione stood with her hands wrapped tightly around herself, seemingly crying, and non other that Draco Malfoy was holding his friend Ron tightly as the redhead struggled cursing them all to the end of existence.
"You are late, Potter." Malfoy spat icily "And since you were not here, we started our lesson without you. Then this rowdy oaf came blundering in blind drunk swearing like a pig and nearly hit his own girlfriend." Pushing Ron towards Harry not too gently the blond added "Get him out of here, before I harm him, because at the moment I really want to."
Harry caught his best mate clumsily and nearly stumbled to the ground with him. One thing was for certain, Ron really was drunk and Harry could smell it. Holding the ginger up he took a look at Malfoy, the Slytherin was seething.
"Potter, go. Now. Calm him down and sober him up. I'll take care of Granger."
That sounded strange to say the least, so the black haired teenager took a look at Hermione instead, looking for her input. The usually proud girl just nodded timidly still hugging herself "Go, Harry, we'll be fine. I'll be fine."
"O-okay, if you're sure, 'Mione... I'll be back soon." He nodded to her reassuringly and dragged still barely standing Ron out the door.
Silence in the Room of Requirement was deafening. Hermione stopped the music after Ron's unexpected arrival and now only small hushed sobs from the girl herself broke the fragile peace. Turning towards the Gryffindor girl Draco stepped closer carefully, not to give her any reason to get more frightened. Fortunately she seemed completely unafraid of his proximity, even when the blond took her by the shoulders and gently steered them both towards the armchairs in the back of the room. Sitting her down in one he kneeled in front of it.
"Gran-… Hermione, are you alright?" he asked hesitantly and quietly gauging her every expression. Tears were still running down her face in a steady stream. The sight made his chest contract painfully.
"I-I'm fine." She choked out with effort "I'll be okay. He didn't hurt me…"
"Yes he did. Hermione, has this happened before?" Draco really didn't feel like prodding into her life, but somehow he just had to know.
"This? You mean…?" she asked, though Malfoy could easily tell she knew what he meant, and the stalling made him nervous.
"I mean has he ever gotten blasted and decided it's okay to hit you?" he asked more firmly, reaching up and turning her face to look straight at him.
"He didn't hit me before!" she raised her tone instantly in defense, whether of Ron or herself, she really didn't know.
"But he got drunk before, am I right?" Malfoy was looking at her, the usual indifferent mask gone and replaced by both anger and concern. This night their former enemy had handled her so very gently, cared for her, protected her…treated her probably better, than Ron had for the last month…With that thought she couldn't hold it together any more. Sliding out of the large chair she kneeled beside him on the cold floor and wrapped her arms around his waist falling into the warm, solid chest. Hesitantly Draco's hands came to rest on her back, after a minute gathering the courage to slide up and down slowly. Hermione expected the Slytherin to push her away or prod for an answer, but he didn't. In the lingering silence the supposedly evil, heartless bastard held her quietly and let her release all sorrows into his chest. After long minutes Hermione broke the spell.
"After the war…Ron changed. We all did, I know that, but he got lost in the grief and sadness left behind." She spoke barely audibly, half to him, half to herself "At first it was just a little bit, to help him fall asleep, but after a while I would sometimes find him sleeping with an empty bottle by the bed. In the last couple of months it got worse…He sometimes comes to classes a bit drunk. I…I tried to talk him out of this, to be there for him…but it just doesn't work. He can't let go, the scars are too deep…" She looked up wondering what kind of expression she'll find. One thing she didn't expect was anger, mixed with a good dash of sadness in those pale, almost silver eyes. Sitting down on the floor Malfoy dragged Hermione down into his arms more comfortably and propped his back against the armchair.
"We all have scars left over from the war. Some are more visible, than others…but they all hurt." he slid his sleeve up a bit to let part of the horrid mark peek out "Every one of us is a little cracked, but it's alright, that's how light get's in. I know he suffered and I am not saying he should forget his pain, but Ronald, just like the rest of us, must learn from it - not let it consume him. However, that is a choice he must make on his own, you cannot force him to understand." They lapsed back into silence for another long minute. Despite the cold marble floor she felt warm wrapped in the Slytherin's arms. It was surreal, this entire evening. If somebody had told her a year ago, that she will spend an evening crying her eyes out into welcoming embrace of Draco Malfoy, soothed by his warm hands and slow breathing….Well, let's just say Hermione might have sent them to St. Mungo to get their head checked. And yet, here they were.
"Malfoy?" Hermione asked afraid to break the fragile moment. He looked down at her almost lazily, all anger gone and replaced by a gentle but distant gaze.
"You know, when you cry on someone for nearly half an hour, I think it's only reasonable to call them by their given name, wouldn't you say so?" The platinum blonde smirked, teasing her, but there was no malice in it. Hermione had to bite her lip that very moment. Why, oh, why he had to be so unreasonably handsome…
"Um…D-Draco?" she tried his name on her tongue and it rolled off easily enough.
"Yes?"
"I didn't actually cry on you for half an hour, did I?" she asked both affronted and terrified to hear the answer. He laughed. At first it was only a soundless rumble in his chest, but it soon grew out into a low, husky chuckle and eventually full blown laughter. Hermione nearly chocked – she had never heard him laugh before, not the empty, vicious sound, but actual free, uninhibited laughter. Lord, it was beautiful.
"That's what bothers you most? Truly?" He asked catching his breath. "Well if you must know, it was actually longer…"
"I refuse to believe that." She said flatly, staring him down with a bright, albeit watery, smile.
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about that. Fact is fact." The smirk was both gorgeous and insufferable. Feeling somehow more confident Hermione dared to ask a question of her own.
"Draco? Why don't you eat in the great hall or sit with the Slytherins in the library anymore?" she questioned on a more somber note.
"And why should I answer?" He countered not unkindly.
"Quit pro quo. I splattered my most pressing secret all over your sweater…I think it's only fair if you answer me this one question." Somehow the Gryffindor girl was not afraid of his anger anymore; she just hoped he won't shut down if she pressed a little further. Her question was met by eerie silence. When Hermione had nearly given up and stirred to get back on her feet his hands squeezed her closer. Staring distantly at the far wall he finally spoke up.
"At the beginning of this year the Headmistress received quite a lot of letters, concerning me personally. After the first month she contacted me to let me know, that more than a few parents of younger Slytherins are concerned about their children spending time around…Around a death eater. Then I was sure she will throw me out to satisfy those parents…"
Hermione sat there stunned into silence. How dare they? Most of Slytherins has some family connections to death eaters…The indignation found its way out of her mouth unbidden. "What right do they have to complain?! Half of them if not more were death eaters themselves, or had family among them! "
"That's precisely the point." He answered surprisingly calmly. The tone shushed her back into silence instantly "They…we lost the war. Every former death eater or their family is now an open target, they are afraid to be even remotely associated with any of it, lest their family fell under suspicion. It's a protective mechanism, I can't really blame them. Most people wearing this bloody mark, just like mine, are now in Azkaban. I am only here out of your mercy and Potter's too, as he so pleasantly reminded me just a few days ago." The bitter smile on his face made Hermione sick. It was her fault, she had told Harry to hold it over Draco's head at the beginning of the week.
"I'm sorry…It was my fault, I was angry and told Harry that you owe me at least a dancing lesson for…I'm so sorry…"
"It's fine. True, actually." Draco cut her off a little too forcefully making the brown haired girl cringe "That is why I was surprised when McGonagall allowed me to stay here. Being the honorable Gryffindor she is, she saw no fault of mine in the matter…and so we came to an arrangement. "
A-arrangement?" Hermione asked carefully, afraid to even move. This strange moment of openness was giving her more information, than she expected… and she didn't like any of it.
"Arrangement. She gave me separate quarters in one of the further towers – just a small room and a bathroom, but more than enough for one person. That way she satisfied the demand of keeping me away from children without actually doing any harm to me or my studies. She also gave me the permission to eat in the kitchens, if I should choose to do so. It was my personal choice to keep away from other students – they are either too afraid to move or run off every time I come near, so it's easier to simply stay away, for both parties."
"So when you are not in the great hall, you eat in the kitchens? Bu that's nearly every day…" She trailed off feeling the familiar sting of tears prickling her eyes. Sure, he made all the wrong choices, but half of it, if not more, was forced upon the Malfoy heir. He was equally a victim of this bloody war….
Feeling her starting to tremble Draco suddenly felt the need to backpedal, and quickly. He had forgotten the last time he dared to speak to someone, even his own mother, so openly and now realized he had said too much. In desperate hope to remedy the situation he spoke up again.
"The house elves are actually not half bad company, if you manage to ignore the squeaky voices." He smiled down at her and surprisingly got a strained, but honest smile in return.
"Draco Malfoy, dining with house elves? Hell is bound to freeze over." She looked up at him and snuggled closer into the warmth of his chest. "We all ended up screwed over, huh?" the Gryffindor asked matter of factly. "Muggleborns, half-bloods, pure-bloods…it's all the same."
"Justice is the first casualty of war. Most of the rest are civilians." Draco said half lost in his own thoughts.
"Who said that?"
"Hmmm?"
"It's a quote, I remember hearing it before. Who said that?" she asked again a little calmer now. The sizzling tension was somehow gone. All that was left in its wake was a comfortable, almost cozy silence.
"I can't quite remember. Some muggle. Maybe it'll come to me later. Potter should have dealt with your boyfriend by now. You might want to go back and check if they managed not to kill each other in the process. "
"He is not my boyfriend anymore." Hermione said instantly and with unwavering resolve.
"Does he know that?" The smirk was heard plainly in the blonde's voice, even if Hermione was not looking at his face.
"Not yet, but he'll find out fairly soon."
"Good riddance." Was all the commentary she received. This time when Hermione stirred to get up he didn't hold her back, however she had no plans of leaving if she could help it.
"Dance with me?" she asked fully standing up and reaching her hand out for the handsome young man still curled up on the floor. "Not because you owe me anything – you don't. I-I just really want to dance with you…if you don't mind…"
"Even after it got you into so much trouble?" he asked arching one elegant eyebrow, smirk pulling one corner of pale lips up wickedly. Oh hell…Hermione caught herself thinking she wants to kiss that smirk away so badly.
"Yes."
"Even if I might dip you into another compromising position?" he asked standing up in one fluid movement.
"Yes."
"I might take that as consent…" He was reaching for her hand and pulling her closer with a playful glint in his eyes. Sly, as a Slytherin ought to be, but Hermione wasn't afraid of it any more…Actually, she had to admit she may come to like it.
"It is. Now come here and make me forget this whole ordeal ever happened." It took all courage the Gryffindor girl had left to say those words, but it sure was worth it when a strong arm wrapped around her waist pressing her into a welcoming embrace.
"As you wish, my lady." Draco whispered into her ear, feeling his own pulse pick up. With a wandless spell the music filled the room and bounced off of stone walls just to reverberate deep in Draco's chest. This was not a lesson any more…so what should it look like? What can he allow himself? Essence of Tango is after all seduction…and for Draco Malfoy seduction starts in the mind. Therefore he simply had to remind the purpose of this dance to the beautiful young woman in his arms. "Remember, this will not be a lesson…This time when you dance with me, it's for pleasure of my touch alone. It's the true heart of Tango Hermione… seduction." he whispered low in her ear, feeling the small body shiver lightly in his grasp.
"Then I might not be very good at it…" she answered so close her lips almost brushed his jaw. "I don't even know what the proper step sequence is…"
"There is no sequence, love. Tango is pure improvisation from start to finish, a physical expression of feeling between a man and a woman." He had to stop himself from turning his face just a few inches and claiming those full, rosy lips.
"Then show me what you feel…" she whispered. Without a second thought he did. This time there were no safety barriers to keep them from doing whatever their hearts desire. When he wanted to run his hand over her thigh, he did, when she felt like sneaking her fingers into his silky hair, she did just that without bashfulness or remorse. It was freeing to be able to express longing, gentleness and desire without words. They danced for long minutes ignoring the changing songs and adapting to them effortlessly. Slowly Hermione got braver and started to lose control of her own inhibitions, they seemed irrelevant at this moment. Her feet took more daring steps, teasing Draco into chasing her…holding her closer. Her hands traveled freely over strong shoulders, lean sculpted back, even if it was hidden by thick layer of wool…Merlin, she had to admit she loved this – his touches both attentive and passionate – clearly letting her feel just how much he wants her, but never making it lewd on undignified. A true aristocrat…god help her.
When one particularly fiery piece ended they were both left panting, faces so close the tip of her nose brushed his cheek. Knowing exactly what she wants Hermione traced his cheekbone with the tip of her nose till their lips were millimeters away and stilled. Now it's his choice. Will Draco kiss her? Or even after all of this he still thinks she's beneath him? Waiting in trepidation she bit her lip not noticing the silver eyes tracing her every move.
Draco Malfoy stood immobile, completely torn by doubt. Would he really dare to touch someone so pure, someone completely unattainable for a man like him? Would it be alright to indulge, just this once, to allow himself to feel fully? Watching her cheeks stained red from their dances, the brown eyes hidden by long lashes and those lips, oh so soft and tempting, he knew…it was not right. But he was always selfish, so why not allow it one more time? Throwing all doubts to the wind he raised his palm to hold one burning cheek and closed the small gap, pressing their lips together.
Hermione sighed with both relief and pleasure when their lips finally met. Her body melted into his arms almost without her consent. This felt different from any other kiss she had ever had…Krum, Ron…they all faded away when a warm tongue swept carefully between her lips asking for permission. With a small gasp she let him in and clutched those firm shoulders tighter as the taste of green apples and something very lightly bitter - maybe tea - filled her senses. His fingers found their way into her hair, sliding over her scalp slowly as an equally gentle palm explored her waist and back. Slow and languid, their kiss stretched into eternity it seemed, but at some point it had to end…When they both were nearly swaying form the lack of oxygen Draco broke the kiss and looked down at the tousled girl, dazed and panting in his arms. In another world he would kiss her again. Invite her to dinner. Buy her flowers and get her silly drunk on fine wine… and maybe, if he was very, very lucky… take her home and make her his own on the cool silk sheets. But this world is much darker and by far more crooked, so Draco just took a step back, holding her up, just to be on the safe side, before stating the inevitable fact. "You ought to go. Potter will be worried. And the Neanderthal has a good news coming, right?"
Hermione stared at him blinking stupidly. Why is he pushing her away now? "But…" before she had a chance to argue her case the door opened and a worried Harry stepped through. Draco's hands fell away from her body in an instant.
"Hermione? Malfoy? You are still here?" he asked in unveiled disbelief. "It's been nearly two hours…What the hell were you doing here all this time?"
"And how is that any of your business, Potter?" Draco answered icily, slipping into the usual mask without second thought.
"She is my friend, Malfoy, if you hurt her in any way it is my business!"
"It's fine Harry. He didn't do anything bad, we were just talking. I needed to calm down. After that we danced a little more and that's it." Hermione reassured her doubtful friend. She intended to walk to the door, but Draco beat her to it.
"She won't need any more dancing lessons, your friend managed to learn it enough not to make a fool of herself. Good night Potter, Granger. " with a small nod Malfoy slid through the gap between Harry and the door disappearing into the dark hallway.
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Recently I've been informed that some of the descriptions of the dance are incorrect and they probably are to an extent. Unfortunately the review got lost somewhere, so I cannot thank the person who wrote it...
I corrected some of it, and can only hope the rest will not offend anyone.
I've been taught to tango about seven years ago and NOT professionally, by a friend from Buenos Aires. It was only less than a week of learning, so I remember the feeling more than the steps themselves. This was written purely from personal experience. Please take note, that if you will choose to learn Tango professionally, it will not be exactly as described. You will probably learn step sequences and not be given the option to just play around with steps. Still, I think it should be much fun.