The Maze of Memory

by JaneEvans13

Hermione is twenty-two and her life is quite stable. The only thing that overshadows her–obsessive dreams that haunt the night where Hermione constantly sees Someone's silhouette. But when she and her friends find themselves at the best resort in the Magic World, the usual course of things changes in a completely unpredictable way, because she has to... dance. Dance with the enemy.

8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Soundtrack – Jose Feliciano «California Dreaming»

Damn Granger.

"How's the water?" Elisa asked loudly, peering into his face with interest.

"Fine," Draco replied mechanically, trying not to meet El's gaze. He didn't want to get into long conversations right now. Damn Granger. The last meeting with her will probably be stored in his memory for a long time since for the past twenty minutes he couldn't think about anything else.

"Yeah… I hope you haven't come across those sea creatures of unknown origin that I've heard so much about?" El asked with a grin, rubbing the magic tanning cream on her hands, and from Malfoy's eloquent look, she realized that she had hit the spot.

Damn Granger.

"That's exactly what happened," he said grimly, grinning involuntarily at the puzzled expression on El's face.

"Are there stingrays?" Elisa asked, straightening up.

"No."

"Sharks?"

"No."

"Mermaids?"

"Worse."

To be more precise, much worse, El. To see the Mudblood in a swimsuit and suddenly realize that she's... Fucking hot?! Damn Granger!

Obviously, that blatant thought was reflected on Draco's face, as it only took El a few seconds to understand.

"Great Merlin, just don't tell me that you've ran into those nice guys again!" She threw her hands in the air, "This is sciocchezza!"*

"To be more precise, I only met good old Granger, and we even had a nice chit-chat for a couple of minutes, although let's not talk about it. It seems that I was bitten by some sea creature, but thank Merlin! It wasn't Granger," Draco said with a grim grin, frantically figuring out how to change the subject.

"Really? And where did it bite you?" El asked sceptically, crossing her arms over the chest.

"Left leg, I think," Draco blurted out the first thing that crossed his mind.

"Oh yeah?"

"Or the right one, I don't remember. But something bit me for sure."

"And where's the bite mark?" Elisa raised an eyebrow contemptuously.

"Does it have to be?" Draco asked irritably, realizing that he was acting like a complete fool. Damn Granger with her damn red bikini!

"I think it's time for you to stop." El finally gave up after a short silence and plopped down on the sun lounger.

"Stop being a bait for all kinds of dangerous marine stuff?"

"Stop talking nonsense and fighting with Hermione," Elisa looked at Draco with a murderous look. She was already beginning to well up, and Draco knew that it won't take long before he would have to use all the wonders of ingenuity to stroke her down again.

"Okay, my dear, I hear you, let's just calm down," Draco took Elisa's hand in a conciliatory manner. "It just turned out that it's not so easy to get rid of old habits."

He was telling the absolute truth. How can he remain indifferent when the Mudblood has been systematically irritating him lately with her behaviour, her words, her way of moving, her appearance, and, in the end, her bloody red swimsuit?! Damn Granger!

"Maybe that's not the case. Maybe you're just in love with her?"

Draco froze in surprise. It felt as if he had been doused with icy water. He stared dumbfounded at El, who looked quite serious. Such a question was so blatantly absurd that he could hardly find the strength to utter a few words:

"What. Did. You. Just. Say?"

Draco could almost hear his own hoarse, quiet voice. How could El even ask that? In love with the Mudblood?! It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard!

Draco was startled out of his stupor by El's laughter. Her reaction was so sudden that for a while he just stared at her with a slightly opened mouth.

"You should have… Seen…Your… Face… " she barely uttered through her laughter.

The understanding came very quickly. So El was joking?! Of course, how could she ask such nonsense seriously?

At the realization of his own stupidity and the sight of El's infectious laughter, Draco suddenly laughed himself. He bought it like Longbottom! To fall in love with the Mudblood?! It's more likely to have an affair with Filch!

They laughed for a whole minute when Elisa finally tried to put on a serious facial expression and looked at Draco. The attempt was clearly unsuccessful. Her face was red, the eyes were watering, and her body was convulsing with barely suppressed laughter. She looked so funny that Draco, who was doing his best to look serious like El, laughed again. He didn't know how long they had been laughing, but the wizards walking nearby were already curiously stopping, watching them, and someone openly twisted his finger at his temple, but Draco didn't care. The main thing was that now he wasn't thinking about Granger and felt at last free from the oppressive thoughts. A burst of healthy laughter, as it turned out, has a beneficial effect on his emotional state, so Draco decided to regularly arrange such sessions of laughter therapy.

Finally, after he was done laughing he collapsed on the lounger with relief. That was a good one. Draco was still impressed by her "joke", although deep down he was infinitely glad that she hadn't asked her monstrous question seriously. He didn't want to think about why he was so effected by Elisa's words, so he tried to turn his attention to his girlfriend, who was lying next to him.

"I haven't felt so good for a long time," El said with a rather smiling face and, as if feeling Draco's gaze, she stretched, arching her back sensually, and threw her hands behind her head. "I should ask you provocative questions more often."

"You mean absurdly stupid questions?" Draco asked with a wry grin, his hand groping a glass of cool juice on the table next to the lounger. "You know, I would prefer you ask me such nonsense for the first and last time."

Elisa got up with the grace of a cat and, perching on the edge of Draco's lounger, bent over him.

"Whatever you say, mio Draco, although you know I've always been a naughty girl..." Elisa purred and kissed him tenderly.

Draco pulled El closer to him with pleasure and deepened the kiss when out of the corner of his eye he noticed... The damn red swimsuit.

Cursing to himself, Malfoy closed his eyes, trying not to think about anything, or rather, about anyone but Elisa. But as if she sensed something was wrong, she slowly pulled away from Draco and turned around.

He barely forced himself not to look where El was staring with such interest. Instead, trying to look indifferent, Draco picked up his glass again, which in a moment was filled almost to the brim with a tropical cocktail. Taking a sip, he almost choked with surprise: the contents of the glass were clearly stronger than he had thought. Not a bad trick for the hotel that seems to really know and fulfill the wishes of the guests at any given time!

"Well, she's beautiful..." Elisa said thoughtfully.

At her words, Draco mechanically turned in the direction of the Italian and froze. It didn't take long to figure out who she meant.

Granger walked slowly along the sea line and was only about thirty feet away from Draco. Her long hair fluttered softly from the warm sea breeze, the swimsuit beautifully set off the already tanned smooth skin, and the slender proportional silhouette of her body made it clear that this young, but already a fully formed woman was incredibly beautiful. The wizards watched her with eager eyes, but she didn't seem to notice anyone. Proudly straightened shoulders, the thrown up chin and the gaze directed strictly in front of her seemed to indicate her deliberate indifference to their interest.

Draco grinned. He knew intuitively that Granger had probably noticed him, and now she was trying to pretend that she hadn't. And just at that moment, as if to complete his thoughts, Hermione quickly glanced in his direction, but then looked away and frowned, walking a little faster. Unable to resist, Malfoy snorted.

Granger, as always, was in her repertoire.

"She is really beautiful," El said affirmatively and gave Draco a questioning look.

Malfoy said nothing and preferred to pretend not to notice.

As if he didn't already know himself.

It seemed like an eternity before Hermione dared to open the envelope with the now-familiar magnolia badge. She twisted it warily in her hands, trying to imagine what this magical resort had in store for her this time. Over the past few days, she has already managed to attend seminars on potions, growing magnolias and developing personal attractiveness in the eyes of the opposite sex, and it was very bearable. But still, every time she opened an invitation envelope, she was waiting for a catch.

She had a bad feeling, so first chose to shower, change and hang the wet clothes in the backyard of her bungalow, have a glass of orange juice, and read a couple of chapters of "The History of the Magnolia". Finally, after finding the necessary passage in the book about letters, Hermione decided to get acquainted with the message prepared for her. At first, she hoped that if she didn't open the envelope, then she wouldn't be obliged to fulfill the conditions specified in the letter. Indeed, how could she know what was written there if she hadn't read the message?

And although Hermione knew in her heart that it was unlikely that everything was so simple, she was nevertheless upset when she read about the properties of the envelope to record whether the recipient saw it or not. Otherwise, the information about Hermione's cunning would have reached the hotel management in an instant, so she would have had to pack her bags, and it was both desirable and undesirable at the same time. Although still unwanted more.

Sighing, Hermione carefully opened the envelope and took out a folded gold-coloured sheet.

"Dear Hermione Granger! We sincerely thank you for choosing our resort! We promise to do our best to make your vacation in "The Beautiful Magnolia" stay in your memory for a long time!"

After the last words Hermione had read, she snorted. Of course, it will stay in her memory! That first evening alone says a lot – several of "unforgettable" minutes in the close company of Malfoy, she is hardly able to forget! Thank Merlin that this hell was over, and Hermione hadn't had any direct contact with Draco in the past few days, although she had met him quite often by chance.

"And today's evening dance class is just created to give our guests precious moments of joy and pleasure in the rhythms of music. We're waiting for you at 7 p.m. in the dance hall, which is located in the main building of the Beautiful Magnolia on the 2nd floor. See you soon!"

Hermione sighed in disappointment. There was only one thought in her head: she celebrated too soon.

She didn't remember getting up, running out of the bungalow, and rushing in a direction unknown to her. It wasn't until she reached the familiar door that she realized she was standing outside Harry's and Ginny's house. After a moment's hesitation, Hermione knocked insistently: she just needed to find out if her friends were going to this damned dance class or if she was the only one who had such a "charming" pastime in store for her. After all, everyone had been invited to the magnolia growing workshop, so maybe this time she wouldn't be alone.

Surprisingly, the door was opened almost immediately. Harry was standing in the doorway, half-asleep, his hair was a mess. She must have woken him up.

"Oh Harry, I'm sorry to bother you," Hermione mumbled regretfully, shifting from foot to foot. She didn't want to inconvenience her close friends at all.

"It's okay, come in. I just laid down to rest for a couple of minutes and, as it often happens..." rubbing his eyes, he opened the door wider, letting her inside.

"Thank you. Perhaps, It's not a good time?" she looked at him from under her brows, confused.

"Oh, Hermione, no worries! I had to get up anyway," Harry smiled at her, stretching, but then looked at her in alarm. "Is something happened?"

"No, I mean, yes... Is Ginny here?" Hermione asked hesitantly, looking around. In any case, she was definitely not in the living room. Was she sleeping?

"Oh, yes, I think she's in the backyard, reading some kind of nonsense novel, well, one of those that you women love so much,'' Harry grinned and waved his hand towards a large glass door. There was heavenly garden with incredibly beautiful nature behind it.

"Then... I will go find her, right?" Hermione looked doubtfully at her friend and took a couple of cautious steps forward, deciding not to argue about the taste preferences of women in literature.

"Of course, go!" Harry smiled good-naturedly. "And tell her that I'm getting jealous of what's his name, Eduardo."

"Okay, I will tell her," Hermione laughed and, winking at a friend, quickly walked to the door.

The garden was fabulously beautiful. An abundance of magnificent plants and flowers, luxurious trees with large crowns, lush green fluffy gravel – Hermione had the impression that she was in Paradise. The sun was no longer so hot, a light breeze gently caressed the skin, and somewhere in the distance, the sound of the surf was heard. A narrow cobbled path went straight from the door and ran away somewhere deep into the fabulous garden. Hermione walked slowly along with it, admiring the surrounding beauty of nature, and when she turned around a particularly large tree, she saw a small wooden arbour, entwined with magical colourful flowers. Ginny sat inside, reading a book, thoughtfully winding a long red curl around her finger. There was a wistful, sly smile on her face, her eyes darted quickly over the lines. Hermione came close to her when Ginny finally noticed her presence.

"Holy Merlin, Hermione, you almost gave me a heart attack!" she shuddered in surprise.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Hermione stepped into the arbour and sat down next to Ginny. "What are you reading?"

"Oh, this is..." she waved the book absently. ""The Unquenchable Fire of Love and Passion" by Violetta Smokey. I know the title is stupid, but what scenes are there!.."

Ginny looked at her pointedly, and then mimicked one of the scenes with the characteristic rolling of the eyes and biting of the lips, so it made Hermione giggle.

"Oh, surely Eduardo's Holy Grail, trembling with unbridled passion, can perform miracles," she snorted, staring skeptically at the cover of the novel, where a man with jet black hair was shamelessly feeling up a blonde young maiden on the shores of a sparkling sea.

"Judging by Eleanor's desire to channel the bulwark of his masculinity through the buds of voluptuousness into the hot spring of her femininity almost hourly, you're right," Ginny grinned, putting the book aside.

The friends looked at each other and laughed at the same time.

"Besides, Harry told you that he's getting jealous of Eduardo, who is burning with passion!"

"He doesn't have to worry: the shock of thick black hair on his chest and the Catholic cross entangled in it don't turn me on," Ginny said with a grin. "By the way, is Harry awake?"

"Yes, I woke him," Hermione replied ruefully. "I came at the wrong time, as always."

"Oh, dear, at the wrong time – that's when Ron breaks into our bedroom late at night without knocking, says "I'm not looking!" and starts seeking for his work robes. So you don't have to worry about it." Ginny looked at her with a smirk. "Just tell me, did you come to visit us or did something happen?"

Hermione sighed.

"Nothing special, but… Ginny, did you and Harry get an invitation to any evening event?" she decided to start from afar.

"Yes, we did," Ginny straightened up with interest. "Why are you asking?"

"You got it too? Thank heaven," Hermione breathed in relief. "So I won't be alone there."

Indeed, in the past, the seminars they had attended individually had always started at different times, so it was safe to assume that this time the invitations had coincided again.

Ginny laughed.

"You make it sound like you're going to have a tea party with Voldemort!"

Hermione shivered at the sound of the name of the nightmare of her youth.

"Thank Merlin, no! But I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out to be a nightmare…"

"Oh Hermione, stop thinking about such nonsense! Do you hear me? You will do great!" Ginny took her by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes.

"We're at the best resort in the wizarding world, and here, as you know, everything is for the best! I'm sure you will love this event!"

"Yeah, it's unlikely, of course, but thanks for the support," Hermione said, looking away with a grim smile. "I hope I don't need a partner this time, at least."

She felt Ginny's hands slip from her shoulders.

"Why would you need him?" she asked in bewilderment. "The lesson already involves the work of instructors with each one individually, depending on the student's training."

Hermione stared at Ginny, frowning slightly.

"How do you know?" she asked suspiciously.

Vague doubts began to creep up to her.

"Well," Ginny spread her arms, slightly rounding her eyes. "Everyone will learn the updated Quidditch technique according to the Ernest Cack-handed principle in the class with a personal trainer!"

Hermione stared at her friend in silence. The sun was already beginning to slowly set, the air was getting fresher, and the sudden silence was broken only by the soft singing of birds and the rustle of leaves.

"Did you say Quidditch lessons?.." Hermione asked quietly, watching as the expression on Ginny's face changed rapidly, as she raised her hand to her mouth in shock.

"Holy Merlin! Have you received an invitation to another event?!"

"Yes, and you won't believe if I told you what class I was invited to," Hermione turned away, frowning. It seems that she no longer felt anger, surprise, or disappointment. She just accepted it.

Ginny looked at her with curiosity and concern at the same time. She seemed tempted to ask where exactly Hermione was supposed to go tonight, but something told her that this wasn't the best time for that. Ginny's gaze suddenly fell on the cover of the book, where the brown-eyed brunette Eduardo was dancing with the ephemeral blonde Eleanor, hugging her tightly to him. After watching the couple for a while, Ginny took a sharp breath and froze.

"What?" Hermione turned when she heard a sigh.

"Is it dancing?" the friend answered the question with a question. She carefully peered into Hermione's face, trying to find the answer, and it wasn't until Hermione got up from her seat and flipped the book over that Ginny seemed to realize that she was right.

Hermione looked around nervously. It seemed that everywhere were only couples in love, who were merrily discussing the upcoming dance lesson. Some of them tried to remember the impromptu evening master class held in "the evening of acquaintance" and repeated the basic moves of Bachata, while others demonstrated quite a professional dance ability. However, fortunately for Hermione, there were also "loners" present in the hall such as herself. In the opposite corner from her, a shy girl in glasses of about twenty-eight was nervously shifting from foot to foot, two guys with identical dark curls to their shoulders were standing a little further away and discussing something loudly in French, and a couple of six feet from Hermione an adult solid man was calmly watching a couple dancing right in front of him. But most of all, Hermione's attention was attracted by a group of chirping young girls who had barely stepped beyond the threshold of adulthood, who now and then shot their eyes in the direction of single and not very single guys. Obviously, they were without partners, and since there were not so many free male representatives in the hall, they tried as best they could to attract their attention. Hermione quickly glanced at her watch and found that there were only a couple of minutes left before class. The hope arose in her soul that maybe a partner wasn't necessary for this lesson.

The hall where the class was supposed to be held was ideal for dancing lessons. Shining dark lacquered parquet flooring, rich crystal chandeliers illuminating the hall with soft light, a floor-to-ceiling mirrored canvas stretching across the entire wall, and soft velvet ottomans placed along the walls gave the room a luxurious and striking appearance.

At first, Hermione couldn't help but admire such beauty, that even helped her forget for a moment about the impending nightmare. She considered it a nightmare that she would have to dance again. Not that she didn't like it, but remembering her first evening at the resort, she would prefer to remove herself as much as possible from everything related to dancing and Malfoy in particular. By the way, to the delight of Hermione, the idiot she hated wasn't in the hall and, judging by the time, won't come.

And so, exactly at 7 p.m., the sounds of incendiary Latin American music were heard and, out of nowhere, two beautiful teachers, familiar to everyone from the previous lesson, appeared in the centre of the hall: Stefano and Maria. The hall lit up with applause and they demonstrated a few dance "steps", then finished their little performance with a noble bow.

"Good evening, dear friends!" Stefano greeted everyone present, flashing a snow-white smile. "I'll ask you all to stand in front of the mirrored wall in a checkerboard pattern so that you can freely observe us."

After listening to Stefano's instructions, the wizards moved chaotically, trying to get closer to the teachers. Hermione didn't share their zeal, so she was overjoyed when she was able to take what she thought was a good spot: in the far right corner near the door. Knowing that this was probably impossible, Hermione secretly hoped that she would be able to slip away from the master class.

"That's great! And now Maria will tell you what we are going to do in our dance classes," Stefano looked around at the wizards and took a couple of steps back, giving way to Maria.

Hermione frowned. Dance classes? There will be several of them?!

"Hello, dear guests of our resort! As Stefano said, I will try to give you all the information about your future master classes as briefly and succinctly as possible," as if reading Hermione's thoughts, Maria began. "As you have already understood, the invitation to the dance class wasn't received by chance. The Beautiful Magnolia is an amazing place where you will definitely realize what you really want..."

At that moment, the door to the hall swung open noisily, and Hermione realized with horror that there was someone in the doorway whom she didn't want to see.

"My apologies for being late," Draco Malfoy drawled casually as he stepped into the room. "I got a little lost."

With a wry grin, he surveyed the hall haughtily, thrusting his thumbs into the pockets of his trousers. His whole appearance spoke of contempt for everyone present and everything that was happening here. It was only when his gaze came across Hermione's dumbfounded face that he froze in bewilderment for a moment, but almost immediately grinned mockingly.

"Oh, Granger, you're here! How unexpected. Have you decided to prepare a dance gift for Weasley? I'm afraid to disappoint you – they only teach decent dancing here," he said in a slightly lower voice, though it was clear from the giggles coming from both sides of Hermione that it wasn't nearly quiet enough.

Hermione, speechless for a second, flushed, but then, with a loud sigh of indignation, blurted out in one breath:

"I'm already disappointed, Malfoy, that you didn't get lost somewhere in the troll lair! And, perhaps, the best gift for me and Ron, in particular, would be your sudden departure from this resort to places more suitable for you! For example, to Azka..."

"Signor, signorina, stop bickering!" Maria suddenly interrupted Hermione's fiery speech. "Signor, please go a little further and take a seat so that you can watch us comfortably. And from now on, try not to be late!"

Draco gave Hermione one last mocking glance and then turned towards Maria.

"Sorry, madam, this won't happen again!" he said with the most charming smile he could do and slowly took what seemed to be the only free seat in the hall: in the far left corner.

Hermione watched him dismissively and tried to stand so that she couldn't even see Malfoy with her peripheral vision. Oddly enough, she was hardly surprised when she saw him in the doorway.

At this resort within a couple of days, Malfoy's presence seemed to have become inevitable. She had met him on the street, seen him in the Great Hall, ran into him on the beach. Sometimes she noticed the back of his blond head somewhere a couple of feet away, and sometimes she even came across his passionate embrace with Elisa, and this picture annoyed her. To tell the truth, Elisa herself was somehow not to her liking, although Hermione couldn't find any objective reasons why. Perhaps it was just the fact that this girl could bear Malfoy and be with him that caused a subconscious rejection. Or maybe...

Hermione was pulled out of her thoughts by the voice of Maria, who continued to talk about the dance class.

"So, as I said, you didn't get the invitations by accident. Most likely, your very soul demands that you let go of yourself in the dance, discover something new in the rhythms of the music. In any case, by the end of our classes, each of you will feel something that you have never felt, and you may discover those abilities that you never suspected…"

Draco snorted loudly after these words and muttered something obscene under his breath about "feelings he has already felt" after that Hermione heard the idiotic girlish giggle to her left. She really wanted to cast a spell of dumbness on these stupid girls or even strangle them with her own hands so they'd finally shut up, but she didn't want to give Malfoy another reason to mock her "atypical behaviour".

"… And now, after a short warm-up, we will learn a few basic movements from various Latin dances," Hermione heard only the continuation of the phrase that Maria had begun. With that, the music in the hall grew a little louder, and Stefano raised his wand to his throat.

"You should warm up well to avoid injury as much as possible," he began muttering a spell. "So, repeat after Maria and me."

After these words, the teachers began to show simple warm-up movements, that were enthusiastically repeated by almost all the wizards. Hermione was still angry with Malfoy, his presence annoyed her, so she got herself into gear with double zeal, trying to distract herself.

From time to time, during the twisting movements, he would run into Malfoy, who didn't seem to be doing any warming-up at all but only gave the appearance that he wasn't standing still, shifting from one foot to the other and lazily flexing his hands. In fact, as Hermione had already noticed, he was lightheartedly chatting with one of those frivolous girls whose laughter she had heard before the class began. A slender blonde of about nineteen desperately mince, now and then was tossing her shiny fair hair from one side to the other, and pouting her lips in a manner. Malfoy, on the other hand, commented something to her from time to time, drawing out his words habitually, so his appearance spoke of extreme self-righteousness. Hermione almost got sick of this luscious scene, and she hastened to turn away.

She was wondering how Elisa would react if she saw this picture? Certainly not better than if she had seen what was happening the first night, Hermione thought grimly and felt chills all over her body.

Suddenly she remembered Malfoy's touch, their intimidating closeness and the unacceptable emotions it had caused. The memories made her uneasy.

Hermione unconsciously turned back towards Draco and met his gaze. He was looking at her thoughtfully, with a strange half-smile on his face, but his thoughts were elsewhere, so the blonde, who was chattering away beside him, was obviously trying in vain.

Hermione was dumbfounded for a moment, but after a couple of seconds Malfoy seemed to come to his senses, and his expression changed to his usual nasty grin. He turned slowly towards the blonde and, as if nothing had happened, joined in the conversation.

It was about fifteen minutes later when the warm-up finally ended.

"So, dear guests of our first and, believe me, not the only dance class! We are well warmed up, so now you can move on to the actual learning of the dances themselves!" Stefano said loudly.

"And since we have a pair dance, I'll ask you all to pair up voluntarily! If you don't do it yourself, Stefano and I will help you! Get started!" Maria said, and then there was a hum of voices in the hall.

The wizards, talking excitedly, began to look out for a possible candidate for partnership. Hermione, remembering that unfortunate evening with Malfoy, immediately rushed into the middle of the crowd and abruptly grabbed the arm of one of those two French guys that she had noticed before class began.

Perhaps at this moment, Harry would have envied her speed of reaction! However, this couldn't be said about the Frenchman himself, who shuddered in surprise and turned to Hermione with a surprised look.

"Pardonnez moi, signor, I mean, moi..." she began in clumsy French, blushing with embarrassment.

"It's okay, I understand Inglish," the Frenchman smiled encouragingly at her. "I suppose you wanted to dance wiz me?"

"Well, actually, yes," Hermione said embarrassedly, thinking how self-confident these Frenchmen are. "If you don't mind, of course."

"I don't, signorina, but I 'ave to ask my friend if 'e does," the guy said, smiling apologetically in broken English. "And if you don't mind, I would like to step back for a second."

Hermione nodded resignedly, frowning slightly.

She watched her potential dance partner slip further and further away from her, and it made her nervous. This time, she wasn't going to let the miss the chance to dance with someone but Malfoy! Hermione, like a hawk, watched every step of "her" Frenchman, shifting from foot to foot. Finally, he approached the friend with whom they had come together and began to say something to him. They talked for several minutes, gesturing wildly, and finally, Hermione saw a smile light up both their faces. It looks like everything was settled.

She let out a sigh of relief and then inhaled sharply again because it was at that moment that her gaze registered what had thrown her into a stupor: the French fleetingly kissed on the lips, tenderly embracing. No, she wasn't against homosexuals, but the fact that the only guy she noticed as her partner and with whom she had to dance passionate "pas" turned out to be gay, discouraged her. And she could certainly say with certainty that Malfoy – if he, of course, watched this scene – would have another perfect excuse to tease her.

Hermione tried to keep a straight face, and almost smiled as the Frenchman headed back toward her when she heard the girl who had been trying so hard to attract Malfoy's attention with her blond hair laugh out loud. The thought that perhaps the ferret had already started making his mocking comments about Hermione made her so angry that she turned sharply in his direction and looked at him defiantly. To her surprise, Malfoy didn't seem to be interested in what was going on in the hall at all, and in her in particular, because he was apparently trying to impress the group of young girls standing around him with his unsurpassed, in his opinion, of course, sense of humour. Those, in turn, tried to laugh as loudly as possible, even if they did it out of line.

Hermione turned away in relief, and her future partner approached her almost immediately.

"Well, signorina, everything iz fine! Jacques doesn't mind zat we will be partners. By ze way, call me André, and what's your name?" a young man with an obvious French accent introduced himself politely.

"Oh, great!" Hermione breathed, finally relaxing. "I'm Hermione. I hope I don't trample your feet too much."

André laughed lightly, throwing back his head with its mass of curly hair.

"Signorina, if you knew about my dancing abilities, or rather, about zeir absence, you wouldn't say zat!" André said cheerfully, putting a reassuring hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"Well, then, let's try not to hurt each other!" she smiled at him, feeling a surge of sympathy for the Frenchman. Obviously, he had a sweet temper, that gave him a certain charm. For a split second, Hermione even felt sorry that André was a homosexual because lately, she had met so few guys who aroused her sincere sympathy!

Eventually, Hermione noticed, almost everyone in the room was paired up, and Maria and Stefano, who had been helping the wizards choose their partners, took their seats in front of the guests.

"Well, we can finally get down to business! Today we will learn with you the basic moves of such dances as samba, cha-cha-cha and rumba. But let's start with samba!"

About half an hour has passed. Couples moved around the hall in the rhythm of samba while Maria and Stefano loudly counted them out loud so that the dancers would hit the beat exactly. And if someone walked into the room at that moment, he probably would never have believed that newcomers were dancing in the hall who mastered the basic dance moves just thirty minutes ago. Surprisingly, the dance basics of samba were remembered by all those present very quickly, and the hall itself was overflowing with joyful rejoicing of those who themselves didn't expect such a quick disclosure of their dancing abilities.

Hermione liked to dance with André. It was easy to communicate with him, and the dance moves were somehow easier. Sometimes he joked and she laughed sincerely. Already at the tenth minute, Hermione caught herself thinking that, in general, she wasn't dancing so badly, and at the twentieth minute, she could tell André with confidence that she liked dancing!

"So! Now let's form a circle and start dancing a bunch of basic samba movements counter clockwise!" Stefano said loudly clapping in his palms.
Hermione felt André take her hand and pull her aside, deftly manoeuvering among the less agile couples.

"Where..." she started, but the guy interrupted her.

"We need to take a place closer to ze mirrors so zat at least a couple of minutes to look at ourselves from ze side," André explained without stopping. "And, to be 'onest, I'd like to watch Jacques. 'E's dancing so beautifully!.."

After these words, Hermione was a little taken aback – after all, it's not every day that you hear a man praising another man for his ability to dance, but then came to her senses again.

"Oh, yes, of course, Jacques..." she said with a note of sadness in her voice. "By the way, André, how long have you been together?"

"Almost three years," he finally said with proud, stopping. "Zis is true love…" After these words, André stared tenderly into the distance, and Hermione following his gaze, saw Jacques softly explaining something to his partner – that very shy girl with glasses.

"Yes..." Hermione breathed thoughtfully. How lucky some people are! After all, finding love is a real happiness, that she hasn't yet fully cognized. Her relationship with Ron was so similar to love at first until she realized that after all, this isn't the same feeling that they write about in novels and tell sentimental stories.

"And you, 'Ermione?" André asked her suddenly.

"Me?" she answered absentmindedly with a question to a question, being still in her thoughts.

" 'Ave you found your love?" the Frenchman looked at her attentively.

"Oh, no, no... Not yet," Hermione waved away, smiling tightly. This question left an unpleasant aftertaste in her soul, although she couldn't say that she wanted to truly fall in love. After all, there are so many other interesting things in life besides love! For example, work, study, friendship after all...

For some reason, André stared at her for a long time, without saying a word, and only after a long silence, he said:

"For some reason, I 'ave ze feeling zat you was in love, 'Ermione." Her eyebrows went up at this statement.

"Why do you think so?" she asked with genuine amazement.

"Intuition," the guy replied with a wink and broke into a wide smile. "Okay, let's pair up? In my opinion, everyone is waiting only for us."

"Yes, of course, come on..." Hermione drawled with the same expression on her face, trying to find the reasons why André made such a strange assumption.

She was still in a pensive state when the incendiary samba music resounded in the hall again and all the pairs began to dance already familiar to them movements in a circle. Unconsciously, she glanced at the mirror a couple of times, where her reflection danced quite well, especially considering that this was just the first lesson. The only thing that hasn't been very successful for her and André so far is the quick steps forward with a change of places, during which the partners had to switch their places. When Hermione was concentrated, this movement turned out quite well for her, but now, when she couldn't recover from the strange dialogue with André, everything went wrong right away. The first turn was even more or less successful, but the next two were one worse than the other.

" 'Ermione, concentrate!" the Frenchman said with a note of panic in his voice, trying to shout down the music.

"I'm trying to!" She replied, realizing with horror that the tempo of the music had become even faster. She, finally, having come to her senses the best she could, tried to catch the rhythm, but when she entered the next turn, she didn't calculate the amplitude and flew into the girl who was dancing right in front of her with all the momentum. As if in slow motion, she saw André's eyes widen when he realized that he couldn't catch Hermione. She was trying to maintain her balance and grabbed the girl's shoulder dancing in front of her and they flew onto the floor together, taking a couple more people with them.
It wasn't until she landed on the floor that Hermione realized what had happened, and a feeling of shame made her cheeks burn. She closed her eyes tightly, afraid to open them, but the noise of voices and the suddenly stopped music forced her to open her eyelids anyway. A crowd of onlookers had already gathered around, which Stefano and Maria were making their way through. Next to Hermione, leaning on her palm, sat a fair-haired girl rubbing her right side with a grimace of pain on her face, and in front of her, a few more wizards had already almost risen to their feet, who apparently got away with only minor bruises.

"Fucking Merlin, Granger, what the hell are you doing?" she heard an irritated voice somewhere not far behind her.

Hermione turned sharply and saw Malfoy, reproachfully looking down at her and... stretching out his hand to her? It was so unusual that Hermione's eyes widened and she stared at Malfoy in bewilderment. He, obviously, started to get angry with her stupid behaviour, and then snapped out caustically:

"So will you continue to sit and make everyone laugh at you or is this habitual to you from the school?"

Hermione perked up at these words, muttering "sorry" to the blonde, and mechanically grabbed Draco's arm, trying to get up. As a perfectionist by nature, she couldn't allow everyone present to consider her a "laughing-stock". It was just unacceptable. But soon the realization that she was holding Malfoy's hand came to her with crying indignation in her soul, so she recoiled from him, not yet having time to finally regain balance.

"Thank you," Hermione muttered, staggering automatically, but then she came to her senses and asked sharply: "Why the hell are you helping me?"
Draco rolled his eyes at the question.

"Oh, you can't flatter yourself, Granger, I don't have noble intentions," he said sarcastically. "It's just that thanks to your "grace" you knocked down my partner, simultaneously crushing her dress and a couple of limbs. And since you couldn't come to get up on your own, I decided to help you."

After these words, Malfoy turned away from her and, taking a couple of steps, bent over the blonde:

"Hey, Rachel, are you okay?" he asked with slight concern.

"Of course not! This madwoman beat off my entire side..." the blonde began to complain. Hermione recognized the girl – Malfoy's mannered partner.

Not wanting to listen to these humiliating remarks in her address anymore, Hermione embarrassedly tried to get out of the crowd when Maria stopped her.

"Bella, are you okay?" she asked worriedly, taking Hermione by the shoulders.

"Yes, yes, thanks... I just didn't calculate the amplitude," Hermione answered with a guilty smile.

"Don't worry, it happens! Next time try not to accelerate so fast into turnings." Maria smiled softly at her. Turning away, she loudly addressed all those present: "So, the show is over! Everyone go to your starting positions and we'll begin to study the next dance – cha-cha-cha!"

Only when the music began to play again, and the couples began to learn new movements, repeating after Maria and Stefano, Hermione felt more or less calm. André was very attentive to her and tried his best to distract her from the thoughts of the recent shame. And everything would be fine, but Malfoy, who was dancing quite nearby, now and then threw mocking, meaningful glances at her, especially focusing on her minor mistakes. Hermione tried to ignore him.

She ignored him while studying the main move, then while practicing the closed steps, and even during paired variations, that weren't particularly easy for her due to her windup nerves. All this time, Hermione miraculously remained calm, but when she accidentally tripped over André's leg and saw Malfoy rolling his eyes, her patience was over. Grabbing the Frenchman by the hand, she firmly pulled him towards Draco and stopped abruptly in the front of him, asking the others to move to the side. She was determined to express what she thinks to this cheeky ferret.

"If you don't stop it now, I'll come up with the most sophisticated way to erase that nasty grin off your face!" Hermione said menacingly, looking ferociously into Malfoy's eyes.

"What should I stop, Granger? I didn't touch you! Or did you bump your head so badly that you confused me with Weasley?" Malfoy asked, obviously amused, winking at her. It seemed he was quite amused by the situation.

"You know what I'm talking about." Hermione hissed, boiling even more. "Stop looking at me like that, or..."

"Or what?" Draco interrupted her ironically. "You'll beat me up? Isn't that how Muggles deal with each other? "

He pissed her off so much that Hermione gritted her teeth so as not to swear at Malfoy.

Surprisingly, at this resort, for some reason, he could piss her off in a matter of minutes, while before, in such situations at Hogwarts, all her friends admired her imperturbable calmness.

"Hey, 'Ermione, is everything okay?" she heard the agitated voice of André, who, with a slight frown, looked first at her, then at Draco.

"Almost," she replied, throwing an angry glare at Malfoy.

"Maria just asked everyone to form a circle again, we are going to work out ze basic steps of ze dance," he explained to Hermione and gently took her away from Malfoy. "Listen, if 'e is bothering you – tell me!"

"Oh, thanks, André!" she sincerely thanked him, flashing her eyes in the direction of Draco who was still grinning disgustingly. "It's very nice of you, but I think I can handle it myself."

"If you say so," the Frenchman shrugged, casting one last suspicious glance at Malfoy.

As previous time, loud music played in the hall, only this time it was a rhythmic melody of cha-cha-cha. The wizards lined up one after the other, and under the close supervision of Stefano and Maria, they began to practice the basic steps of the dance. Hermione was still angry with Malfoy, and gradually a plan for a little revenge was ripening in her head. Unfortunately for her, the ferret danced well and never stumbled, but at the same time, fortunately for Hermione, she knew how to help him a little at that.

She understood that she was playing dirty, but Malfoy pissed her off so much that she decided on a little dirty trick. Keeping pace with the rhythm, Hermione discreetly pulled her wand from her belt. And since Malfoy was walking a little behind her, she, guessing the right moment, whispered a spell, and, pointing her wand at him, quickly put it into place. The first satisfaction from the work done came at the moment when she heard a curse somewhere behind her and out of the corner of her eye saw Malfoy stumble on level ground. But Hermione was finally satisfied with herself only after the ferret almost fell for the fourth time and, moreover, practically knocked down his partner. For the first time in her life, it seems, she mentally thanked twins for teaching her the hindrance and disorientation spell many years ago. Hermione couldn't help giggling softly, trying to resist the temptation to turn around to look at Malfoy the way he'd looked at her halfway through the class: mockingly and condescending at the same time.

But, unfortunately, she wasn't in high spirits for long, because literally a minute later she felt someone's hand on her shoulder and felt someone bending over to her ear:

"Do you think, you're the smartest, Granger?" a familiar voice hissed angrily. "Let's see who really is."

Before Hermione had time to turn around, she felt that her legs were becoming more and more heavy with each step, which made it almost impossible to continue moving.

"Malfoy, what the hell are you doing?" Hermione exclaimed indignantly turning around and feeling the growing panic inside her.

"I can ask you the same thing, Granger. What the hell are you doing?" Draco asked coldly; his eyebrows raised haughtily, pausing for a moment. "And, by the way, because of you there is now a traffic jam, please walk faster. Although... Oh, that's right! You can't. What a pity."

After these words, he grinned disgustingly and defiantly bypassed her, continuing to move in a circle. Hermione blazed with rage. She didn't know what kind of magic Malfoy had casted on her, and therefore she couldn't force her legs to move. All counter-spells were pointless, so she had to rely only on help from the outside, or at the Malfoy's mercy. But since the second option was hardly possible, only the first remained. And fortunately, help wasn't long in coming.

" 'Ermione, why did you stop? What's ze matter?" noticing that she lagged behind, André approached her. "Can I help you?"

"You'll help me a lot if you disenchant my legs. They feel like lead was poured into them." Hermione said quickly, trying to find the right spell.

"Oh, I sink I know 'ow what can 'elp you," quickly finding his way, André took out his wand and muttered something in French. Hermione felt lightness in her legs almost instantly and, hearing disgruntled exclamations behind her, hurried to rejoin the general flow of traffic. "Thank you very much! I don't understand how I could forget this spell," she thanked the Frenchman heartily. "By the way, what was it?"

"Oh, most likely you didn't know it, unless, of course, you studied French magic!" André answered with a grim smile. "Or if you weren't interested in ze dark arts."

"No, of course not," Hermione said frightened, but right after these words, the Frenchman got distracted when he saw Jacques gesturing to him. Apologizing to Hermione, André hurried up to him, leaving her alone with her thoughts for a while.

Dark arts, then. Hermione frowned and found Malfoy with her eyes. It's now clear why she didn't know this spell, and why the ferret knew it. The tattoo on his forearm alone tells a lot, Hermione thought disgustedly, spotting the Dark Mark on Draco's left forearm from afar. He, as if sensing her gaze, turned around and, squinting angrily, suddenly shortened the distance between him and Hermione. She turned away rapidly, preferring to think that she only imagined it, but when she saw him next to her, her illusions disappeared.

"So, Granger, your gentleman rescued his lady from a difficult situation?" he asked tartly, grinning.

"Only your absence will help me out of this difficult situation," Hermione answered coldly. "And you know, Granger, I was just thinking and came to the conclusion that you're very damn unlucky! Downright bad fate," Malfoy began from afar with pretended concern.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione glanced displeasedly at him, simultaneously noting to herself that all the wizards were beginning to disperse to their original places against the mirrored wall.

"Well, Granger," Malfoy said, as if surprised that she didn't understand the obvious. "Whenever you find yourself a gentleman – he's either gay or Weasley. Moreover, both options, let's say, doesn't make the best company for a lady. Wait, maybe it's trendy for Golden girls to pick their own arseholes for balance in a pair?"

"So you're saying that the presence of that stupid girl, whom you call "your partner", is a good company?!" Hermione narrowed her eyes angrily and crossed her arms over her chest. "Or is it trendy for the Death Eaters to choose their girlfriends, equal to themselves in terms of intelligence?"

"Oh, you bitch..." Malfoy began angrily, but Hermione, who had already gone into a rage, interrupted him.

"What is it, Malfoy, are you saying that you're not a Death Eater, a cowardly slave of Voldemort? Then explain to me what is this?!" Hermione grabbed Draco by the left arm and turned it with a tattoo outward, raising her voice almost to hysterical.

But when she took a closer look at the dark spot, which she had been trying not to look at all these days, she discovered that instead of the Dark Mark on Draco's forearm flaunts... A dragon?!

"You're a fool, Granger," Malfoy pulled his hand back with contempt. "Did you, the golden graduate of Hogwarts who so desperately tried to help Potter defeat the Dark Lord and more than once testified against the so-called "Death Eaters"... Did you really forget that the Dark Mark disappeared immediately after the Dark Lord's defeat?"

Hermione indeed felt like a fool. Malfoy was right. She has repeatedly demonstrated her brilliant knowledge of the manifestation of dark magic, but this time for some reason she forgot about such an important detail.

"And yes, the next time you decide to say something that in your opinion is witty, think carefully! Although I won't be surprised if you forgot how to do it at all after such close communication with a family of redheads," Draco said dismissively, stroking his left forearm lightly, which made the dragon move.

"And you next time try not to be such a jerk, although I doubt that this is possible after such close communication with a family of Death Eaters,'" Hermione didn't back down, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling, nevertheless, embarrassed.

"Why are you talking, Granger, about the Death Eaters all the time? Do you think you know what it really was like?! Trust me, what you've read in the newspapers or heard from Potter's stories is just the tip of the iceberg. And I saw the whole iceberg," Draco said gloomily, his face suddenly changed, and Hermione felt that she had crossed the line that she shouldn't have.

Draco's eyes didn't have a drop of the old amusement, sarcasm, or anything Hermione would rather see now. Anything but this evil shine and darkness in his eyes that made her shrank involuntarily. This moment Malfoy's face fully reflected everything that he went through, being in the ranks of the Death Eaters, and Hermione had already regretted two hundred times that she hadn't found another way to offend Draco. Now she didn't know what to say, so she just muttered:

"Sorry... I didn't mean to." It was so strange to apologize to a person that she couldn't stand, but now it was the only right decision.

"Don't bother, Granger. After all, we are all hostages of our stereotypes," Malfoy replied with a bitter smile and looked somewhere through Hermione. "What the…"

But before he could finish, she heard a stern voice:

"That's it, signor, signorina!" Hermione turned sharply and saw Maria, who didn't have the usual smile on her face. Her eyes flashed fire. "I endured your bickering during the whole lesson, but my patience came to an end!" She said, putting her hands on her hips. "The whole group is waiting for you, and you don't even hear me ask you to take your positions!"

Only after Maria's words, Hermione realized that she and Malfoy were almost on the instructor's place, while the rest of the wizards have been on their original places for a long time now and were waiting with a displeased looks for the start of the next part of the dance class, silently looking at the two of them.

"Excuse me, Maria, my friend and I got carried away a little by a very entertaining conversation," Draco said softly in a velvet voice, looking the Italian straight in the eyes. "If you will forgive us, then I promise that..."

"No, Mister. That's enough apologies for today," Maria interrupted him, looking at him sternly.

"Then maybe we should leave the class?" Hermione asked with a note of hope in her voice. She was fed up with dancing and arguing with Malfoy, and therefore didn't hesitate to try to slip out of the class early.

"Not a chance!" Maria said, crossing her arms over her chest, and an unkind smile slowly began to blossom on her face. "I have a better idea!"

She was now smiling broadly as she looked at Draco and Hermione. At that moment Stefano approached her, and she, turning, began to speak something quickly to him in Italian so that only the two of them could hear.

"I don't like her happy smile," Malfoy said, listening suspiciously to Maria's speech, and Hermione mentally agreed with him.

Almost immediately the teachers turned to them, and Maria, slyly flashing her eyes, said in a soft voice:

"Now, please, stand right in front of me, in the first line. Now let's start learning the next dance called rumba."

Hermione and Malfoy exchanged glances and took the indicated places in bewilderment. The prospect of being this close to each other didn't please them much, but this wasn't the worst that could have been.

"No, you didn't understand me," Maria cooed affectionately. "You're in pair!"

After these words, Hermione silently opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn't find words being in shock.

"Sorry, Maria, but my partner is Rachel, and... Hermione also has a partner," Malfoy pronounced her name with great difficulty.

"No, sir, now your partner is Hermione! Moreover, if I'm not mistaken, you have already danced with her during our very first class, and you probably managed to get used to each other. So I see no obstacles to becoming regular partners!" Maria cooed triumphantly in her eyes, as if enjoying their reaction.

It seemed that for a minute Draco and Hermione were simply silent, peering into the face of the Italian with disbelief. It was as if they were both trying to find a catch, at least one cue to the fact that Maria wasn't talking seriously. But, in the end, they were overtaken by an understanding of the situation that they found themselves in.

"Are you joking?!" Draco and Hermione asked almost in unison and exchanged dumbfounded glances. But when Maria without answering their question, as if nothing had happened, continued to lead the dance class, they realized that the answer was "No".

It had been about fifteen minutes since Maria had passed her "sentence" to Draco and Hermione regarding their partnership.

Draco watched Granger. She tried to behave calmly and emphatically politely with him, feigning calmness with might and main. But the impetuosity of her movements and the way she avoided his gaze suggested otherwise. Granger was nervous, and he seemed to be as nervous as she was. The memories of the first night of vacation, more precisely, of his closeness with Hermione, gave rise to strange emotions in Draco, the nature of which he didn't want to think about.

So far, they danced just holding hands, and, at the same time, being at a very chaste distance from each other. Sensual music played in the hall, which should accompany the dance of love and passion – rumba, and Maria and Stefano explained the very foundations of this beautiful dance. Everybody seemed to be in the intoxication of the sweet melody, except for Draco and Hermione. Everything that was happening seemed to them ridiculous and wrong. Therefore, they cherished the hope that this dance lesson was the first and last for the two of them as partners. Draco, in any case, almost convinced himself of this, and his soul immediately felt somehow easier. The only thing he hoped was that they wouldn't have to contact so closely again, and so far this mental prayer of his has borne fruit.

"You're good at rumba, Granger! You haven't crashed once," Draco grinned, trying to distract himself from unnecessary thoughts.

"Thanks for the dubious compliment, Malfoy," Hermione murmured, glancing at him briefly. "You're also good at not pissing me off the last fifteen minutes, especially given the circumstances."

"I sincerely hope that these, as you put it? "The circumstances" will turn out to be a temporary misunderstanding," Draco said docilely, mechanically practicing the basic rumba move.

"You have no idea how much I hope so," Hermione muttered, casting a scowl at Maria.

Over the past fifteen minutes, she more than once approached them and monitored the correctness of the movements. On the surface, there wasn't a trace of her former anger, rather a sincere desire to improve the dance of the newly-made partners, but Draco felt that she was paying him and Granger a little more attention than everyone else.

"So, now it's time for us to move with you to a slightly different level of activity!" Stefano said loudly, attracting the attention of the wizards. "The rumba dance is extremely difficult in terms of the interaction with partners. You must learn to feel each other well, and therefore I offer you such an exercise. Since rumba is a dance of passion and love, right now you should try to seduce each other in a dance!"

Smiling slightly, Stefano looked around the room. His words were followed by a wave of surprised sighs and amazed exclamations among the wizards, who, although they were keen on dancing, were still not sufficiently liberated in it.

"Quiet, quiet!" the Italian tried to calm everybody down with a gesture. "Maria and I will show you now what it should look like roughly."

After these words, a new melody of rumba played in the audience, and they really demonstrated what they obviously expected to see from their charges. The Italians, possessing perfect plasticity of movements, showed the perfect story of the relationship between a man and a woman in one dance. They either gently touched, then sharply pushed each other away, sometimes pressed their bodies passionately, and the next second they seemed to be afraid to touch each other again.

Draco had conflicting feelings as he watched them. On the one hand, he for some reason was painfully familiar with the story that Stefano and Maria had shown so clearly through the dance, but on the other hand, he was still dumbfounded by the task that fell to his lot with Granger. He knew how to seduce girls, one might say, he had a talent for this, but he certainly never seduced anyone in a dance, and the last one he would like to try such a non-standard form of using his abilities with was a Mudblood. Rather, he simply couldn't imagine how you can portray passion with someone whom you physically can't stand.

Malfoy glanced at Hermione, who watched the dance spellbound. There was admiration and fear on her face at the same time, which even slightly amused Draco. He was okay, he could manage it somehow, but he couldn't imagine Granger in the form of a fatal seductress. Although, when he pictured that red swimsuit...

"So, I will repeat to you our task once again," Maria continued the thought started by Stefano, bowing. "Now you should be as liberated as possible and imagine that you are facing that longed for partner who you feel physically attracted to. Your task is to create your own impromptu dance, filled with sensuality and passion through touching and mutual contact," Maria said and stopped the growing flurry of indignation and questions with a gesture. "Yes, I understand that it will be difficult at first, but just try to feel each other, follow your partner's thoughts and continue the storyline of your own dance story. Let's start!"

As soon as Maria finished, the sensual melody of rumba filled the hall again, but not everyone began to proceed to the task immediately. Draco felt Hermione's grasping hand on his wrist, before he could recover from what he heard.

"Malfoy, I'm not going to do this!" she said through clenched teeth, looking at him as if it was his idea.

"First, Granger, let go of me, and second, relax!" Draco said with a grin, instantly finding a way out of this situation. "After all, we were given the task of showing seduction, but what it is in our understanding..."

After these words, he looked meaningfully at Hermione, and then it finally dawned on her.

"Do we dance the basic rumba move?" she asked cautiously with a blossoming smile. "Separately. We can't immediately rush into the abyss of passion, can we? It will be somehow unnatural," Draco confirmed smugly, and Hermione laughed, feeling clearly relieved.

"Malfoy, I can't believe I'm saying this, but you're a genius!"

"Worth thanking," Draco said after making a secular bow. "Now let's move away from each other and start our… Hmm… seduction."

With one last conspiratorial glance at each other, Hermione and Draco moved a couple of meters away from each other and began to simply dance the movements of the rumba, sometimes adding their own improvisations, such as sensual rolling of their eyes and throwing their heads back, that both could hardly restrain their laughter from. Draco found himself thinking that today, for the first time in his life, he saw Hermione Granger as an ally, not an enemy, and this circumstance was so unnatural that he didn't even know what to feel about it. As of this moment he was having fun with her, and the realization that Granger appreciated his idea was strangely warming, too.

But, unfortunately, it was all over in an instant when Draco saw the figure of Maria rapidly approaching them.

"Damn…" he murmured when she asked him and Hermione to come closer with a gesture.

"Something wrong, signora?" Granger asked warily, slightly frowning.

"Yes, something is wrong. With your assignment." She crossed her arms over her chest and moved her eyes from Hermione to Draco. "Are you sure you understood the assignment?"

"Of course, signora," Malfoy replied with feigned seriousness. "Did something make you doubt it?"

"Yes. You."

Hermione and Draco exchanged displeased glances while Maria continued.

"The task was for you to try to see each other as an object of desire, to show in the dance how much you burn with passion for your partner. You had to loosen up and create an impromptu dance, and not just repeat the learned movements six feet apart."

"But..." Hermione objected and at the same second realized that it would be a pointless attempt to prove her case. Maria looked at her with such a look, as if she saw right through her.

"Listen," she began softening. "Don't think that I'm trying to force you to do something that you don't like, of my own free will. No, I am only doing what the Beautiful Magnolia tells me to do. Remember, you are in an unusual place, thanks to which your problems and disagreements will somehow go away. And it is quite possible that these activities will help you to improve your relationship, which, as I can see, is very difficult."

Draco sighed in annoyance at her words. His plan went to hell, plus he couldn't figure out how such an ambiguous dance could help him "mend his relationship" with Granger. If anything, it will push the mutual hostility and aggression towards each other even further.

"I know how you feel now. You don't believe me," as if reading his thoughts, Maria turned to Draco. "But just try to complete this assignment, please."

After these words, she took a couple of steps back, taking one last look at Draco and Hermione, and finally, turning away, disappeared into the crowd.

"Well, Granger, let's try," Malfoy said grimly through clenched teeth, not looking at Hermione. "Are you serious?" she asked in disbelief, frightened.

"One way or another, we have to try if we don't want to be kicked out of this resort," Draco continued; his expression unchanged.

"No, wait, are you actually serious?!" Hermione exclaimed in horror. "And how do you imagine this?"

"Just try to do what was said," finally turning to her, Draco said dryly and, turning away, walked away from her. Everything in his soul was bubbling with barely contained anger and despair, but he couldn't do anything about these feelings. Unless he tried to do what was required of him.
Turning abruptly, he found Hermione's gaze and slowly walked towards her. The closer he got, the more clearly the fear, coupled with disbelief, was read on her face.

Finally, Draco almost completely closed the distance between them, leaving only a few inches between their bodies. Trying not to think, he slowly extended his hand to Hermione and barely traced his fingers along the back of her hand. At the touch, Granger flinched, but didn't recoil. On the contrary, she waited, spellbound, for what he would do the next moment. Raising the corners of his lips slightly, Draco moved on, drawing his fingers up to her shoulder, then took a small step forward and found himself impermissibly close to Hermione. It was only when his other hand was light on her waist that Granger suddenly sprung back.

"I can't," she said, hiding her face in her hands, shaking her head. After her reaction, Draco seemed to come out of some kind of intoxication and, along with relief, felt a sudden growing anger.

"Do you think it is easy for me, Granger?" He rolled his eyes, "At least you just stood as a log in place, and I had to take the rap for two!"

"Let's start with the fact that if you hadn't started the conflict during the lesson, then you wouldn't have had to "take the rap"!" abruptly dropping her hands, Hermione said, blazing with anger and embarrassment at the same time.

"So it was me who started the conflict?! That's enough for me." After these words, he grabbed Hermione by the wrist and pulled her with force towards Maria.

"Malfoy, let me go now!" she resisted to no avail.

"No, Granger, let's figure out this situation and explain everything as it is to our dear teacher!"

With these words, he stopped abruptly near the Italian and, slightly pushing Hermione forward, released her wrist.

"Signora, let me clarify the situation," he began with fervor, addressing the astonished Maria. "Granger and I just physically can't dance with each other. We have a long history of mutual, to put it mildly, hostility, stretching from school, and therefore every time we're less than fifteen feet apart, inevitable conflicts arise, that can have, believe me, very impressive consequences! And if you don't want your beautiful dance hall to turn into a battleground for two old

"acquaintances", then I ask you to find a way to avoid it!"

Maria looked from Draco to Hermione in surprise for a while, but at last, something cleared up in her face and she laughed sincerely.

"Old school hatred, then! I see," she said, smiling broadly, looking at them in a strange way. "At last it's clear to me what can help you."

Malfoy stared at her blankly, while Maria, taking out her wand, muttered something, and suddenly two rectangular cards in dark blue appeared in the air.

"Here you go," she held them out to Draco and Hermione. "I'm afraid to ask, what is it?" twirling the card in her hands, Hermione asked incredulously.

"And this is your next task, since it's difficult for you to cope with the previous one," Maria said, already a little more serious. "I gave you invitations to tomorrow's Latin party at The Hot Night club. All that is required of you is to go there and, after observing the dancing couples, try to dance together."

"What if I don't come to this damn party of yours?" Draco hissed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Signor, consider that you have just received a task from Magnolia itself, and it is impossible to hide anything from its magic." Maria shook her head, smiling ironically. "So I advise you to come and try to dance with your partner, unless, of course, you want to leave our resort ahead of time."

"Are you kidding me?!" Hermione exclaimed, obviously not wanting to put up with the crazy tasks that Maria gave her from time to time.

"If we argue from this point of view, then I "scoff" at..." Maria began to count, "...six more pairs, equally constrained in expressing their feelings."

She hadn't finished speaking yet, and Draco had already realized that this was just the beginning of his troubles.

"Two Firewhiskeys, please," Ginny said to the bartender and, slightly bowing her head, looked at Hermione. "You need something stronger than pumpkin juice now..."

"I just can't understand," Hermione began, nervously looking around. "What have I done to this resort?"

They were in The Hot Night club, which fully justified its name. A small hut on the seashore miraculously accommodated a bunch of people, and low lights and haze reigning inside seemed to set the visitors in a relaxed mood, as evidenced by the way they were dancing, more like a sexual foreplay than a form of art.

Ginny gave Hermione a soft look and placed her hand on her arm.

"Honey, don't be so dramatic! After all, there are pros to anything…" she began and after a moment of thinking added. "Even if they are few, but they are still there!"

"Like what?" Hermione looked tiredly at her.

"Well, for example, today you have the opportunity to pick up some hot guy here and show him everything that you are capable of!" Ginny said, winking cheerfully. "And if we knock over a glass of Firewhiskey, then there may be several guys, and more capabilities..."

"Holy Merlin, Ginny!" Hermione looked at her reproachfully. "I already feel shitty, and here you are with your worthless assumptions."

"Hmm, apparently you feel really shitty, since you used the word "shitty"," Ginny took a glass of Firewhiskey. "Shall we?"

Hermione hesitated for a split second, but after experiencing small internal conflict, her face changed and she nervously grabbed her glass.

"You know what, Ginny? What the hell! If the circumstances can't be changed, then you just need to try to change your attitude towards them!" She said impulsively, not expecting it from herself.

"Exactly! And Firewhiskey will help you perfectly with that! Well, for a successful evening, friend." Ginny raised her glass.

"For a successful evening! And let it all go to hell!"

Hermione was so angry with the whole world that she reached the point where she didn't care what happened next. It couldn't get any worse. And if you think about it, all you need to do is to stay in the club and dance. Not the most difficult task. You've had it worse, especially during the war. Although, of course, considering that her partner should be Malfoy, this somewhat complicated the task.

And to hell with that.

Hermione knocked over her glass with a swoop and coughed immediately. The dark liquid burned her throat, but at the same time, reaching the bottom of her stomach, gave her some vigor.

"Wow, Hermione! I didn't know you could knock over a glass of Firewhiskey all at once," Ginny grinned. "As I understand it, tonight is the night when all stereotypes about the excellent student Hermione will collapse?"

"No, tonight is the night called "don't give a damn"!" She put her glass down on the bar with a thud being instantly drunk. "Where is the damn Malfoy, can you see him?"

Hermione turned in her chair and began to peer intently into the crowd. Everything became slightly blurred around her, which made it difficult to concentrate on one face at the time, especially given the dim light of the room.

"Nope, I don't see him, do you?" Ginny answered carefully looking around.

"Me neither," Hermione spun in her chair and turned to the bartender. "Another round of Firewhiskey, please!"

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed in surprise, but she stopped her with a gesture.

"Do you remember, today is the day called "do not care"? So don't say anything!" she said flatly. "Just drink."

With these words, she pushed the second glass to Ginny and she, looking suspiciously into Hermione's face, asked:

"You're not joking, are you?" Hermione looked at her wearily again and answered sincerely:

"If I were joking, I wouldn't have had the first shot, so…" she saluted the Firewhiskey, and for the second time, grimacing, emptied the glass.

"Well," Ginny shook her head admiringly and followed Hermione's example.

The evening promised to be interesting. At any rate, it looked like Ginny was sure of it.

"By the way, that guy over there has been staring at you since we came here," she said, looking somewhere through Hermione. "Just don't turn around right away!"

"Really?" she asked in a completely drunken voice. "And where is he?"

She turned slowly and met the gaze of a steaming hot dark-skinned guy who was literally devouring her with his eyes.

"The one in a white jersey?" Hermione said leaning slightly towards her friend.

"Yep, that's the one. Who knows, maybe this moron Malfoy won't show up at all, but you'll complete your part of the task if you dance with this guy!" Ginny looked at her and immediately exclaimed with a satisfied grin. "Oh, he's coming here!"

Before she had time to say it, Hermione saw the same dark haired guy, already standing next to her.

"Buona sera, bella! Posso invitarti a ballare?**" The stranger asked in Italian in a deep voice and held out his hand to her.

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes and felt a strange thrill in her soul. For the first time she was in such situation: drunk with Firewhiskey in some smoky club, and even almost ready to go dancing with a complete stranger, who, moreover, obviously didn't know English. But to her surprise, she enjoyed it! Maybe the extra glass of Firewhiskey was to blame, or maybe Hermione just got tired of being such a square, and she decided to behave the way she wants at the moment without giving a damn.

"Ginny, do you mind?" finally, taking the stranger's hand, she asked her friend.

"Oh, dear, of course not! Have fun. In the meantime, I'll watch you and that couple on the left – they look fascinating," Ginny replied, leaning against the bar, and Hermione, smiling uncertainly at the stranger, followed him.

They made their way through the dancing couples to the center of the dance floor, where the music was heard even louder and clearer. Not far away, on a small stage, a duet sang, performing, as Hermione noticed, an exclusively Latin American repertoire, while couples danced around, hugging each other closely and moving to the beat of the music. Despite the obvious frankness of their dances, it was visible to the naked eye that they were free in their movements and expression of their feelings. Obviously, that's why Maria invited them and Malfoy to this club: there was a lot to learn.

Finally, Hermione's partner stopped and pulled her towards him, starting a dance. A perky Latin song sounded, and the stranger, apparently perfectly controlling his body, pressed Hermione so tightly that she had no choice but to mechanically repeat his movements after him. At first she felt a kind of stiffness, but after a little while the Firewhiskey started showing its effect and she relaxed. The partner led her in a dance, pressing her to him, pushing her away in the rhythm of the music, and she tried to improvise, every now and then glancing at the couples dancing nearby.

At last, Hermione felt that she was free to do what she wanted, and therefore her movements became bolder and her dance more frank. She began to flirt with her partner, as all the girls around did: she outlined the curves of her body with her hands, draw out the figure eight with her hips and played with her skirt, exposing her legs a little more than was acceptable for a decent girl. And even when the song ended, she didn't recoil from the stranger, who tightly pressed her to him in the dance, but only slightly pulled away, waiting for the next dance to start. She was in some kind of euphoria, feeling free like she'd never felt before, and she loved it madly.

Finally, the next languid melody played, indicating the beginning of the slow dance. Hermione looked around, deciding to observe the partners and their moves, and first of all she was struck by the fact that almost all the girls danced incredibly plastic and relaxed. It looked like they were trying to seduce their partners with the curves of their bodies, perfectly demonstrating them in dance. And Hermione tried to follow their example.

Feeling the lead of the Italian, she devoted herself to the music as much as possible and danced as flexibly as she could, using, it seemed, every part of her body. Having moved away from her partner for a couple of steps, she turned, slightly bent over. It was at this moment that she felt someone pressed her to his body from behind and ran his hand along her thigh, slightly lifting her skirt. Not quite understanding what was happening, she instinctively swayed her hips and wrapped her arms around the stranger's neck. The stranger pulled her to him a little tighter, persistently hugging her around the waist, and made her move in time with him with movement of his hips.

This caused a strange emotion in Hermione: her breathing quickened, her heart pounded a little faster, and a wave of slight excitement began to rise in the lower abdomen. At that moment, the stranger turned her to face him and she finally saw that she was pressing tightly... To Draco Malfoy?! She froze in shock, looking up at him with her lips slightly parted. His eyes seemed dark and bottomless, and there wasn't even a shadow of the usual mockery in his gaze. He looked at her strangely, narrowing his eyes slightly, and also didn't say a word. Finally, he pressed her tighter and, grabbing Hermione's fingers with his palm, gave her the impulse to spin to the side. Hermione, as if in some kind of trance, followed Draco's lead, and the next second he pulled her back to him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck without even expecting it from herself. At that moment, something trembled in Draco's face, and he began to swing his hips to the rhythm of the music, and Hermione impeccably followed him, peering into his face.

She couldn't think now, because she knew that as soon as she let the voice of reason to her thoughts, this magical moment would come to an end. So she just listened to Malfoy, did what he told her to do by leading the dance. She felt his hand slowly slide down from the waist to the hip, which made her sigh and she instinctively pressed herself against him even tighter, but Malfoy demandedly turned her back to him, and suddenly his hands disappeared from her body altogether. That only made Hermione feel the desire more strongly, which raised in her more and more with every second, and she brought her arms up, bending them at the elbows. Draco reacted instantly, covering her arms with his and leaning towards her. Hermione felt his warm breath, first on her bare shoulder, then on her neck, and let out a soft moan, feeling the barely perceptible touch of his lips against her skin.

It felt like being shocked with electricity, and her body instantly got covered with goose bumps, and she turned sharply to face Draco. Unconsciously, she clung to him with her whole body and threw back her head, looking straight into his eyes. At that moment, she wanted only one thing, and it was obvious from the way he looked at her that their desires coincided. Malfoy ran his fingers into the heap of her hair near her neck and, pulling Hermione toward him, leaned over her. She felt the warmth of his breath once more, but this time on her cheek, and when his lips again touched her skin lightly, slowly moving towards hers, she felt like she was falling, and so she closed her eyes. At first, Hermione felt Malfoy tilt her head back slightly, and she involuntarily pressed against him a little tighter, but the next moment something happened that echoed in her body with a wave of dizzying trepidation and arousal: Draco covered her lips with his...

And as soon as he did it, Hermione seemed to come to her senses. She opened her eyes abruptly and backed away from Malfoy, covering her mouth with her hand. All of a sudden, a complete understanding of the situation fell upon her, and she, looking at Draco dumbfounded, became more and more aware of what had happened with each passing second. It was too wrong, too unbearable, and too frighteningly exciting. Hermione involuntarily shook her head from side to side, as if trying to convince herself that this could not be, and looked at Malfoy with all her eyes. Draco was outwardly calm, although she could see the tension and alertness in his gaze. And when he took a step towards Hermione, about to say something, she jumped from her place and ran, pushing aside couples on her way. The incident deafened her to such extent that later she could hardly remember how she got home and what she said to Ginny that night.

One thing she knew for sure: something frighteningly wrong was happening to her. And Malfoy was the main reason of it.

* Sciocchezza – (it.) nonsense

** Buona sera, bella! Posso invitarti a ballare? – (it.) Good evening, beauty! Can I invite you to dance?