A/N: So I am an assistant teacher for a Social Dance Class at my University. That said, I recently read a fic where someone had a dance class with our favorite couple - Dramione - and it gave me far too many ideas. What I need to know is if you lot want a lot of explanation in the dance lessons or not. So please review and let me know. I have the first three chapters written and I'll post those right away. Afterwards, let me know if you want more information in the lessons or more about how Hermione feels during the lessons. I can try and alter the chapters to be based on what y'all want to read!
That said, here's the sort of prologue. Let me know what you think!
Hermione looked up to find the Head of her department at the Ministry standing in the doorway. Mr. Muller's arms were crossed over his chest and he looked extremely put out – something that never happened when he was looking at the five-year employee and Deputy Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Muller and Granger were both cooperative personnel as well as friends outside of work, so Hermione couldn't think of the last time he had been upset with her.
"Jackson." She greeted gently, nodding to him. "Is something wrong?"
"Yes, but it's hardly something you would expect to go wrong in our department." He sighed, settling into one of the two chairs across the desk from her own. "You have undoubtedly heard about the gala the Ministry is throwing?" Jackson waited until she nodded in confirmation before continuing. "Then you obviously know how serious the Minister is about impressing the foreign dignitaries from America."
"I don't see what the problem with that is.." Hermione began slowly, tilting her head to the side in question.
"Yes, well, the problem isn't whether or not we should want to impress them. It's that the Minister has now decided that our most famous employees will be the examples." Jackson said, frowning darkly. "That means that you, Miss Granger, along with our other well known war heroes will be taken away from your positions for a time."
"You're joking right?" She gasped, sitting up straighter. "If anyone outside the Ministry finds out, they could do Merlin knows what and we would be down a vast number of employees to stop whatever happens."
"Exactly." Muller grumbled, rolling his eyes. "And you won't believe what you'll be taken off to do."
Across the Ministry and up a few floors, the Aurors who had been involved in the Final Battle at Hogwarts had been called into the briefing room and were now gathered around.
"Hey," Harry greeted his long-time best friend and his fiancee and he sat down between them. Leaning to his left, he gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek before turning to face her brother. "What's this meeting for, exactly?"
"You mean you don't know?" A voice from across the table asked in surprise. Harry turned to see Malfoy sitting across the way with a raised eyebrow.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Ron asked, matching the ex-Slytherin's expression.
Over the years, the three males had gotten over their problems, more or less. Draco worked with Potions in the lower levels of the Ministry, inventing new ones or testing suggestions for certain problems. Often times, this involved working with the Aurors. When your life started to depend on your old rival, you tended to learn to get over your problems.
"Like I've a clue." Draco shrugged in return. "I just got an owl and headed upstairs."
The door opened and a furious, bristling Hermione Granger made her way in.
"Hermione-?"
"What-?"
Everyone was speaking at once, even the other Aurors seated towards the back of the room. After a few moments, Hermione threw down the folder she was holding with such force that they quieted immediately.
"Alright." She began, not wanting to sit down for fear she would simply fidget incessantly. "Here's the deal. The Ministry is throwing that bloody gala," Hermione noted the surprised look on Ginny's face as the elder girl denounced the party Ginny was so looking forward to, "in a month. As the Minister desires that we make a good impression on the Americans, we are required to.. Let me rephrase that. Those of us who were considered heroes of the war are required to take leaves of absence from work to.. to take dance classes."
Shouts of outrage rang out from everyone in the room – except, perhaps, the youngest Weasley, who looked rather entertained. What was the most curious to everyone, it seemed, was that Draco was included in this ridiculous plan. In the end, he had ignored his father's wishes and chose for himself – everyone had to grow up some time, right? - and had started to send them hints about the moves the Death Eaters would make. The strangest part of it all was that Hermione was the first to believe he had changed.
"You've got to be joking." Malfoy's voice reached her ears above the others and she turned to find him staring at her with unamused amazement.
"You've no idea how much I wish I were joking." She retaliated, finally sinking into the chair at the head of the table. "They asked me to tell you lot for fear that you would throw a large fit. Mind, I agree that you should. It won't stop the inevitable, however."
"I don't see why we have to take off work for this." Harry said finally, frowning darkly and crossing his arms over his chest in silent protest. Ginny's hand moved to rest on his arm, clearly hoping to calm him. He passed her an apologetic look before turning back to Hermione. "Why can't we work as well?"
"Unfortunately," She sighed heavily, opening the folder in front of her, "there are an obscene number of dances we're to learn. Besides that, we are to learn everything we can about the foreign dignitaries so we can appear knowledgable and so that we are able to walk up to them, greet them, and dance with them."
"This sounds like a bloody class." One of the Aurors from the back of the room griped.
"It is." Hermione replied darkly. "Somehow, the Ministry has coerced all of the heroes of the Final Battle to join us. Neville, Luna, everyone. To take tests and go to dance practice and hate life."
"You're oddly against the Ministry for a Deputy Head of Department." Draco noted lightly, attempting to lighten the mood in whatever small way he could.
"Oh, absolutely." She nodded seriously, staring at the folder in front of her. "To make it worse, we start as soon as the rest of us arrive." She added, gesturing to the empty seats around them. "The unlucky twenty as I've decided to call us."
"Fitting." A voice behind her commented. They all turned to see Neville leading the rest of the members of the sad little club into the briefing room.