Chapter 6
Soundtrack – Xtreme «Te Extrano»
Draco was nervous. Elisa had been gone for about an hour, and he was stuck in the company of these idiots. After she left, they didn't say a word to each other. Fortunately, the festive entertainment program began, and all the attention of the wonderful Gryffindors was focused exclusively on what was happening on the stage. This red-haired Weasley girl has already managed to participate in several contests, and once even pulled Potter along with her. How sweet, the wizarding world's star saviour was back in the spotlight, only this time he looked really stupid. Draco watched with delight as the Weasley sister made a monkey out of Potter, trying to transfigure his clothes into baby rompers and make him portray a crying baby. He should compliment the organizers for this competition, where ten young couples had to show how they would nurse their future children. Moreover, one of the participants had to play the role of a child, and the other – an affectionate parent trying to calm the kid. Draco hadn't laughed like that in a long time. As he noticed, even little Potty's best friends couldn't help but laugh. Weaselbee had been openly whinnied from the very beginning, and Granger seemed to rush about in doubts, unable to decide whether to worry or to laugh. But in the end, she gave up too, watching as Potter, blushing painfully, portrays a crying baby. Draco very much regretted that he didn't have the opportunity to take the magical photographs so he could blackmail the Chosen One later on, if the need arises, of course.
Now the famous Italian singer was performing on the stage, singing light songs to the sounds of the orchestra in her native language. The tables were almost empty, as the wizards, succumbing to a sweet intoxication, began to flock to the dance floor. It was a little wild for Draco to see all these richly dressed wizarding elite dancing and fooling around like little children.
Perhaps he was too used to his father's dry and formal receptions at their home estate, where all the wizards did nothing but ate delicious food, discuss the exciting plans of the Dark Lord and unobtrusively demonstrate their high financial status. Draco hated all the pomp, but he couldn't imagine how it could be any different.
But now the moment had presented itself, and he had seen this "different" with his own eyes. The impression was ambiguous.
"Harry, please, just one dance!" Draco heard the red-haired Weasley's pleading voice. It was obviously not enough for her to make Potter look like a complete dumbass today, she also wanted to add the title of the main idiot of the evening. Draco could swear that Potter didn't know how to dance at all, remembering the Yule Ball in his fourth year, where he looked more like a clumsy cow than a school hero.
"Ginny, maybe another time?" Potty was still struggling.
"You always say that!" Weasley almost whimpered, and then added in a pleading tone: "Honey, I'm begging you, let's dance!"
Draco almost let out a shout of victory when Potter finally followed her, looking resigned. No wonder Blaise had always said that only the girl in the Weasley family was worth something. Actually, he just wanted to fuck her, but that was another matter.
Out of the corner of his eye, Draco noticed that Weasel and Granger were silently watching the crowd of dancers. They exchanged no more than a couple of words tonight. It seemed strange to Malfoy, considering that rumor had it that the redhead and the know-it-all were about to get married.
Suddenly, a tall black haired witch appeared next to their table. She cast an interested glance at Draco, but when she saw only indifference in response, she walked over to Ron.
"Excuse me, signor, how would you like to keep a lady company on the dance floor?" the brunette cooed, smiling shamelessly. Weasley immediately straightened up, but then slumped guiltily, turning to Granger with a pleading expression on his face.
"Go, of course, go," she assured him, as if in the hope that Weaselbee would finally go away and leave her alone.
"What about ...?" Ron nodded disagreeably at Draco, who tried to suppress a grin. Poor Ronnie, everyone is afraid that his precious dirty princess may be offended in his absence. How touching it is!
"Oh, don't worry. If anything, I can always call you," Granger said, frowning slightly. Draco could see that she was trying to hide her annoyance, but Weasel, as always, noticed nothing and quickly galloped off to the dance floor with a new acquaintance girl.
The evening is getting interesting.
"I thought you were against open relationship, Granger," Draco said mockingly, nodding toward the departing couple. He took another sip of wine and felt the hops hitting him hard in the head. How much has he already had – four glasses, six? It was impossible to say for sure. Draco's vision blurred, and he rubbed his eyes shut.
"Wouldn't advise you to drink so much, Malfoy," the know-it-all coldly ignored his words.
Draco slowly opened his eyes and turned towards her. Granger's face was a little blurry, but Malfoy forced himself to focus. She pointedly stared at the empty glass in his hand, her eyebrows raised.
"Granger, I don't need your advice, if you haven't guessed it already," Draco curled his lips and defiantly poured himself more wine. "Besides, how do you know if you yourself have never drunk anything heavier than a pumpkin juice in your entire life?"
"Your assumptions are ridiculous, Malfoy," Granger snorted and, after a moment's hesitation, added: "It's just that you already have it written on your face that you're one glass away from falling under the table in a drunken stupor. I don't want to bother with reviving you."
Draco almost laughed.
"Oh, how thoughtful of you! Admit it, dearie, you just once again wanted to save someone, and I turned out to be the most suitable for this role."
Hermione rolled her eyes and stared into the distance, ignoring Draco's last remark.
And rightly so. There is no need to continue this meaningless communication any further. Obviously, they were both tired of each other, so the best thing she could do in this situation is to simply ignore him.
At that moment, Weasley loomed right in front of her eyes and it made Granger's mood even worse. He was just turning his partner around under his arm, not taking a longed-for gaze from her.
Hermione swore and, mechanically grabbing the glass in front of her, took a sip.
Draco watched her surreptitiously. The candlelight softly illuminated her face with its flawless, matte skin, and it was only now that he realized how much she had changed. He hadn't seen Granger for three years, and she had obviously grown up. Her facial features lost their childish plumpness, the eyes became wiser, and her habitually shaggy hair no longer stuck out in different directions – on the contrary, it fell in soft waves almost down to the waist. Draco might even have called her attractive if he didn't know who she was. He was generally reluctant to put up with the idea that the dirty know-it-all was quite good-looking. Grudgingly, he had admitted it in his fourth year, when Granger had paraded arm in arm with Viktor Krum right in front of his nose during the Yule Ball and this beat him. At first Draco thought that the Bulgarian, with his many Quidditch games, must have been knocked off his head with a Bludger, since he invited such an ugly Mudblood to the ball, but soon, looking at Granger from a different angle, Draco realized that, in general, only outwardly, she wasn't that terrible. It was akin to an unexpected and at the same time unpleasant discovery, because all his adult life Lucius persistently hammered into his head that Muggles are not people. To him, they were akin to monsters with four legs and ugly green heads. Until the age of eight, Draco seriously believed that Muggles looked like that, but for some reason Granger didn't fit this description at all. On the contrary, she looked quite human, and from the end of the third year all sorts of idiots began to look at her, although she herself hardly noticed it. Even Goyle somehow sneeringly mentioned that he wasn't averse to pop it in the Mudblood.
And yet, for Draco, Granger has always been a sexless creature, a free add-on to the world famous Harry Potter, and a pain in the arse. After all, it was beneath his dignity to realize that some Mudblood bypassed him in all subjects, and Lucius's constant humiliating remarks about this made Draco hate the know-it-all almost as much as he hated Potter.
Draco grinned as he saw that Granger had easily drunk a whole glass of wine in just half a minute, but apparently she hadn't noticed it herself. She was too absorbed in the sight before her. Weasley was already gripping that tall witch with might and main, she only laughed loudly, pulling him closer.
Such a dolt. The redhead was never particularly quick-witted, but only a complete idiot could behave like that in front of his girlfriend.
Draco shot a curious glance at Granger. She felt clearly uncomfortable, but, nevertheless, was looking at Weasley with only submissive doomness. Not a shadow of anger, resentment or anything else that girls usually feel in such situations.
Draco was intrigued.
"It's none of my business, Granger, but it seems your lover is about to drag that girl into your sweet Gryffindor bunk," Draco said derisively, pointing his finger at the dancing couple. "Or is it customary for you to be a threesome all the time?"
Hermione gave him a murderous look, but crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing.
"You don't have to answer that, though. It's pretty obvious – Potter is getting married, it's time to find a replacement," Draco persisted. For some reason, he was interested to find out what was going on between these two.
"Ron and I, we aren't dating anymore," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "And anyway, as you said, this is none of your business."
"Oh..." Draco drawled in understanding, arching an eyebrow gracefully. "Then everything is clear."
With that, Malfoy finished his glass in one gulp, and seemed to have forgotten about Hermione's existence. He gazed thoughtfully into the distance, slightly narrowing his eyes.
Once again that evening, Hermione wanted to kill him. They hadn't spent much time together, but Malfoy had already spoiled her mood. It felt like he was created to make her life a living hell. Although, compared to his years at school, his behavior could be called angelic, but even so, Malfoy annoyed her terribly!
Suddenly, Hermione caught sight of a familiar silhouette in the crowd approaching their table. He was a young Italian man in a beautiful uniform robe, the magnolia gleamed with a ghostly light on it and was visible even from afar.
"Matteo!" Hermione exclaimed with joyful relief and even slightly raised herself in her chair.
The guy with a smile came close to the table and, nodding in greeting to Draco, cheerfully said:
"Good evening, Hermione! You look great!"
"Thank you for the compliment," she blushed slightly and immediately added: "We've been looking for you in the hall for so long! Where have you been?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, bella, but I had to run some errands," the Italian frowned a little. "Is something wrong?"
"No, it's fine, it's just that there were some issues that we've already resolved," Hermione said quickly, seeing the concerned expression on Matteo's face. She didn't want to get him involved in her personal conflicts with Malfoy.
"Are you sure that everything is fine? Hermione, you know I'm always ready to help you and your friends!" the Italian said seriously, looking her straight in the eye.
"Yes, Matteo, thank you very much, but everything is truly good," Hermione lied in a slightly trembling voice. The Italian evidently noticed this and quickly looked at Draco with an appraising glance. He looked completely indifferent to everything that was happening and, outwardly, didn't arouse any suspicion.
"Well, in that case, please help me solve my problem," finally making sure that Malfoy had nothing to do with it, Matteo said gravely and slowly turned his heavy gaze on Hermione. He looked extremely worried, and his usually good-natured expression disappeared without a trace. It seemed that at this moment he even matured for ten years.
"Which one?" Hermione asked anxiously, holding her breath in anticipation of something terrible. Matteo was unrecognizable, and Hermione's smile was gone, her body involuntarily tensed.
"Oh, I don't even know how to say it, bella," sighed Matteo, bowing his head dejectedly. "It's too complicated."
"Just start saying the first thing that comes to mind," Hermione said in a hushed voice, her eyes fixed on him. It seemed that she was internally prepared for the worst, because the Italian with all his appearance showed that it was so.
Mateo hesitated for a few seconds, then the corners of his lips twitched and he looked up at her. His eyes... were laughing? Hermione was completely confused.
"It's my favorite song, and I still don't have a dance partner. Could you pair up with me?" finally, with a broad smile, Matteo gave her his hand. Hermione froze with a startled expression on her face.
"Is this your problem?" she asked incredulously, enunciating every word.
"Yes, and if you don't agree, it will take on a universal scale. So, do you agree?" answered Matteo quickly, expectantly drilling her with laughing eyes.
Hermione exhaled noisily. Is that all? Had he been joking all along, and she, like a naive fool, had fallen for it? As if in answer to Hermione's mental question, Malfoy choked on his wine and coughed, trying to hide his laughter. She once again experienced a fit of anger during the evening.
A vile ferret.
"Are you asking if I agree? If this is the only problem, then I certainly agree!" perhaps, too loudly and insistently answered Hermione and took Matteo's hand, throwing a scathing look in Malfoy's direction. "Just promise me – no more jokes," she sternly threatened the Italian with her finger.
The man laughed contentedly.
"I won't, I promise." With these words, Matteo with a smile led her to the dance floor, after politely nodding goodbye to Draco.
Malfoy was amused by the scene he saw. It was the first time in his life that he had ever seen someone flirt with Granger, and watching her reaction to it was the funniest thing of all. The girl didn't seem to know how to flirt at all and didn't know how to behave if a man showed her signs of attention. It wasn't obvious with the naked eye, but Draco knew a lot about women, so he could have sworn that Granger hadn't even noticed the way the Italian was looking at her, and she certainly hadn't thought about what that might mean on his part. Although, perhaps, not being a flirt by nature, she just deliberately tried to ignore the obvious interest of men, programming herself for books, saving the world, and other rubbish so beloved by the Mudblood.
Draco stretched blissfully at the pleasant realization that now he was finally completely alone. El was still out of sight, but at least none of the Gryffindor trio annoyed him with their presence. On the contrary, it was a great opportunity to admire the dancing fiasco of the golden minions of fortune.
Draco involuntarily looked up at Granger and saw that she began to move uncertainly to the beat of the music next to this waiter or whatever. She danced well, but it was obvious that her prim nature didn't allow Granger to open up completely and give herself up to the rush of music. Although, maybe everything is still ahead? In any case, Draco had no choice but to pass the time alone, so he decided to keep an eye on her a little longer. And there was Weasley, who seemed to have forgotten about the girl's existence. He was glaring murderously at the Italian who had danced with Granger. She tried to pretend that she didn't notice anything, and occasionally glanced at Draco unkindly.
Yes, it looked like he annoyed her today. Frankly, Malfoy didn't know what was causing him to push Granger to her edge, but he couldn't handle her any differently. Perhaps the old habits are rooted firmly in him.
Meanwhile, Hermione, with all her Gryffindor bravery, tried not to step on Matteo's feet and desperately tried to forget that they were under the gaze of hundreds of wizards. She thought she was terribly awkward, but of course she wasn't.
The Italian led her in the dance deftly, through her hands she could feel him giving her the impulse to move in one direction or another. It was quite obvious that Matteo was fluent in the art of dance, which made Hermione feel like a clumsy forest troll against his background. Malfoy added fuel to the fire, who seemed to deliberately keep his eyes on her in his mocking arrogant manner. He looked relaxed in an untucked black shirt with loose sleeves and matching trousers. Even from the distance, Hermione could see his gleaming earring in his left ear and a dark tattoo patch on his right forearm.
Pretty odd, but when she was sitting next to him, she didn't pay attention to it. So Malfoy still had the Dark Mark. Hermione winced at the thought, and she quickly looked away from him.
"Relax a little," she heard Matteo say.
Hermione shuddered frightenedly and then asked warily:
"I'm sorry, what?"
The Italian smiled softly at her and leaned a little closer so that she could hear better.
"You are too tensed in the dance, try to relax, Hermione!"
"Oh, you mean like that," she said with relief. Deep down, she was afraid that Matteo would notice her nervous anxiousness. "I'm not very good at dancing, it's true."
"No, not at all, Hermione! You move beautifully," the Italian hastily assured her with his characteristic emotionality. "You just can't allow yourself to move freely yet. I bet you haven't danced in a while."
Matteo, slightly tilting his head to one side, with a half-smile peered into Hermione's face, as if trying to find confirmation of his assumption in it.
"Yes, you're absolutely right," she replied ruefully and smiled shyly. "I very rarely got out anywhere in the last... Mmm... Several years."
"Oh, well, here, bella, you can be sure – you will make up for all your missed opportunities," the Italian laughed and looked at her in a strange way. It was as
if he knew something that only he had known. Hermione felt uneasy with the look.
Suddenly the music stopped, and the familiar sound of a fanfare was heard, announcing the next part of the entertainment program. The stage, brightly lit by the floodlights, once again began to play with different colors and a beautiful dancing couple appeared on it. Hermione had noticed them at the beginning of the magic show. All the dancers danced equally well, but it was these two who immediately caught the eye. The slender, elegant brown-haired woman and the dark, brunet man were dazzlingly beautiful and looked like siblings. They performed a few dance moves with such grace that the audience immediately burst into applause. The wizards bowed and raised their wands to their necks with a satisfied smile.
"Good evening, dear friends!" The girl was the first to speak, her voice clear and confident, carried throughout the hall by a special spell. She shone with a positive, and her smile, it seemed, could conquer anyone. (New character: an energetic dance coach, Italian, but speaks good English).
"Hello!" The young man echoed her. He was more reserved in his emotions, but still incredibly charming.
After waiting for another flurry of applause and hooting to subside, the wizards continued:
"My name is Maria, and this is my incomparable partner Stefano! A-a-a-and… Welcome to the best resort in the wizarding world!"
Hermione could see a lot of people talking approvingly and nodding their heads. It was obvious that they already knew this energetic witch. It is quite possible that someone was staying here not for the first time. The thought of this seemed a little wild to Hermione, but looking at all this audience, as if exuding the energy of success and wealth, it was easy to believe that it was so.
"We are happy to inform you that we will be your dance teachers for the entire duration of your stay at "La Bella Magnolia"!" said the dark-haired in a velvet voice and looked around with a languid look at all those present, from which several wizards gasped in amazement.
"And our first lesson starts right now!" Maria exclaimed and clapped her hands. The hall was instantly filled with sensual Latin American music with the beautiful vocals of a sweet-voiced Italian, and the dancers, hugging each other closely, began to dance. Hermione's cheeks flushed a little: for some reason it was uncomfortable to look at them, it seemed that she was peeping through the keyhole of the marital bedroom. Hermione didn't know what the dance was called, but it certainly represented everything she wasn't used to talking about. Sexual desire, passion, possession – that was what was read in their movements, body language spoke for itself. But with all this, hardly anyone would dare to call this dance vulgar. On the contrary, he was attractively beautiful, touching the strings of the soul of everyone who looked at it.
"This is true freedom of movement," Matteo said in Hermione's ear. He looked at the dancing couple with awe, and there was a hint of pride in his eyes.
Hermione mentally agreed with him, unable to take her eyes off the couple. She was fascinated by every stroke of the hand, the casual glance from one of the dancers. Everything inside her screamed that she shouldn't like it, that it was "too much", but Hermione knew that in spite of everything, she was enjoying what she saw. And to be completely honest, she herself would like to be able to dance like that, to be just as free in expressing her feelings.
Finally, the music ended and the couple bowed to thunderous applause. Hermione, as if waking up from a strange intoxication, hastened to add to this flurry of applause.
"Matteo, how wonderful it is to be able to dance like that!" She said enthusiastically. Her heart was breaking with emotions she had never felt before.
The Italian smiled warmly and said:
"It only takes your desire, you can do it yourself. Trust me, bella."
Hermione turned absently and stared at him for a while, but soon laughed.
"Me? Come on, Matteo. Dancing isn't my sort of thing."
"Well, we'll see," the Italian said mysteriously and turned his gaze to the stage. Maria began to speak again.
"The dance that we have just pleasurably shown you is called bachata. Contrary to popular belief, it arose more than half a century ago in southern Italy as a sign of the independence of Italian wizards from the political, religious and other unrest characteristic of that time. Bachata is called the dance of love, passion and freedom. The basic steps are simple enough, and in order to learn them, dear guests, please split into pairs."
Hermione saw how many wizards, embarrassed, looked around uncertainly, while others, on the contrary, pressed even closer to their partners, with whom they had been dancing all this time. For example, that tall brunet who danced with Ron clung to him so hard that it seemed that no magic could make her loosen her iron grip. Hermione saw perfectly well how Ron was drilling Matteo's eyes on the dance floor, but tried not to show that she noticed it.
Hermione sighed and turned around to leave when she heard the velvet male voice again.
"And remember, this master class should be attended by absolutely all guests of our resort!" in a joking manner, but, nevertheless, Stefano said sternly. "That is why our colleagues will be happy to help you decide on a pair and at the same time control the entire learning process."
After these words, a new bachata melody began to play, and out of nowhere in the hall, wizards from the dance troupe appeared, who performed at the very beginning of the show together with Maria and Stefano. They immediately scattered around the hall and began to help look for a couple for those who were so far without partners.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat, and she turned to Matteo. The Italian moved a few feet away from her and was now explaining something to an elderly witch in a blue calico dress.
Hermione decided not to distract him for now, but she thought to herself that if she had to inevitably learn this dance, then Matteo would be better partner for her than anyone else.
Hermione relaxed a bit and started looking around for Ginny and Harry. Finally, she saw the familiar red head of hair not far from her and tried to catch her friend's eye. Noticing her, Ginny waved her hand, smiling broadly. Hermione smiled back and noted that Harry, who was standing next to him, looked quite unhappy. Obviously, he had already managed to get tired of the excessive activity of his fiancee that evening, and dancing had never been his favorite pastime. Just at that moment, a young witch approached them and began to emotionally explain something, actively gesturing. Apparently, she explained the dance technique. Hermione, with a last look at her friends, turned away and walked towards Matteo. On the way, she noticed that almost all the wizards had already split into pairs and were now patiently waiting for further instructions. Some, who already knew the basics of bachata, started to dance, not paying attention to anyone around. The Italian was only a few steps away when he turned around and, smiling, took a step towards Hermione.
"Well, bella, are you ready to learn the most sensual dance in the world?"
"I have no choice but to say yes," she replied with a sweet face.
"Then let's find you the best partner,'' Matteo said cheerfully and, taking Hermione by the hand, dragged her somewhere deeper into the hall.
"Wait, can't you be my partner?" She was taken aback, staring in dismay at the Italian, who was leading her confidently through the crowd. She hadn't expected such a turn of events.
Matteo stopped and, cheerfully tilting his head to one side, said:
"I would love to dance with you, Hermione, but unfortunately I have no right to do so, since I work in the Magnolia. On the contrary, I have to help our guests make new acquaintances at the resort."
Apparently, Hermione had such a frightened expression on her face that the Italian couldn't help but laugh.
"Don't worry, bella! It's just a dance. No one will hurt you here!"
"I hope so," Hermione muttered under her breath, and gave Matteo the opportunity to lead herself into the crowd.
She felt extremely bad. It was wild at the thought that now she would have to learn such a frank dance with some unknown wizard. The prospect was frightening, but it was even more annoying that she couldn't do anything about it. Otherwise, she would have to leave not only this hall, but also the resort.
Matteo maneuvered deftly among the crowd, but so far there were only formed couples around, and it seemed that all single partners were taken. Hermione was quietly glad of this circumstance – maybe she would not have to dance at all. It's not her fault that the number of men and women in the hall is not equal! Meanwhile, the Italian, frowning, led her to the stage.
"Wait, Matteo, where are we going?" Hermione asked blankly, trying to slow down. She still lacked to be on stage with a sign on her chest: "Looking for a partner."
"It's all right, bella, trust me," the guy assured her seriously and called Maria to him with a gesture. The dancer smiled happily at him and, going down the steps, came closer. Matteo immediately began to chatter something very quickly in Italian, and Hermione realized with annoyance that she didn't understand a single word. Maria listened intently, frowning slightly, but in the end, she gave an affirmative nod and went back on the stage. She vigilantly surveyed the entire hall and suddenly her face brightened. She gestured for Matteo to wait, raised her wand to her throat and said loudly:
"So, as I see, almost all of you have already found a pair and are ready to start the master class right now!"
The audience responded with exclamations of approval, and Maria, smiling with satisfaction, continued:
"However, not everyone heard my request. For example, you, young man, why haven't you joined us with a beautiful lady yet?"
The witch was looking somewhere over the heads of everyone on the dance floor, and Hermione turned around apprehensively. For some reason, she had a bad feeling, and the moment she stumbled upon the seated figure at the table, she realized what was the reason.
The only one who never made it onto the dance floor was Draco Malfoy.
Hermione gasped in shock, and her pupils widened in horror. She didn't want to think out the development of events, because it was clearly dangerous for her psyche.
Malfoy grinned, lazily raised his wand to his throat and, whispering a spell, just as loudly said:
"Excuse me, signorina, but, unfortunately, my partner has been away for a while. I think I'll wait for her here."
He didn't seem to care that all the wizards were looking at him right now. Hermione thought that she would die of embarrassment in a situation like this.
"Oh, mister, you must be confusing something. Your partner has been waiting for you for a long time," Maria cooed, gesturing at Hermione.
As if in slow motion, she could see the crowd parting in front of her, forming a passageway with her and Malfoy on either side. In less than a second, Hermione felt the gaze of all the wizards present, and she felt wildly uncomfortable. Her breath caught in her throat, mouth went dry, and it seemed to her that she was about to faint. Anything but that.
Malfoy seemed as stunned as she was, but tried to pull himself together. He lowered his head, pursing his lips, but soon lifted his chin again and said with a sweet smile:
"Sorry, Maria, but you made a little mistake. This is definitely not my partner."
The dancer, slightly screwing up her eyes, said in a more serious tone:
"Come here, please, mister. I think you're perfectly familiar with the rules of our resort, and therefore just take my word for it that today this charming signorina will be your partner."
Hermione was frozen with horror. A murmur of surprise ran through the hall, but she didn't hear it. It seemed that the whole world had gone out from under her feet when she saw that Malfoy, frozen in shock for a while in an unnatural position, finally walked straight towards her with a haughty expression on his face, after reluctantly rising from his seat. What the hell is he doing? Was he really going to dance with her?! Apparently all these questions were reflected on Hermione's face, and Malfoy twisted his mouth in a disdainful grin, looking on her. Obviously, such a prospect didn't please him either, but he understood that there was no way out. With each step the distance between them narrowed, and Hermione felt like a caged animal. Desperately she turned to Italian and grabbed his shirt:
"Please, Matteo, anything but that! You have no idea how much he hates me!"
The Italian looked at Hermione in surprise, but soon his expression softened and he gently laid his hand on her shoulder.
"Sorry, bella, but I can't help you here. The Magnolia has chosen the partner for you, to oppose it would be tantamount to leaving this resort forever. But please calm down. Just remember that everything is happening here only for the benefit of the vacationers, even if it doesn't seem so at first."
Hermione took a shuddering breath and turned to face Malfoy, who was looking at her with a sullen look of doom. Startled, she flinched and took a couple of steps back.
"Hi, Granger. Glad to see you again," Draco said in a mocking manner, arching an eyebrow arrogantly.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, an angry Ron jumped out, standing between them. He was red with indignation, and Hermione covered her mouth with her hand in horror, fearing what was about to follow.
"Hermione, you can't dance with him!" Ron shouted, looking furiously from Hermione to Draco.
"Oh, what a dedication, Weasley. Are you tired of being Potter's shadow? Want some attention?" Malfoy remarked calmly, examining his nails. It was as if he had just happened to drop in on a lunatic and was now condescending to his abnormal behavior.
"Shut up!" Ron snapped and turned back to Hermione. "Tell them that you won't dance with him!"
Hermione couldn't say a word. Ron seemed to have lost his temper.
"Mister, calm down, please, this is just one little dance lesson," Stefano went down to them, looking Ron straight in the eye. "Please take your place near the partner."
"But it's Malfoy! If you'd only known how much he hates Hermione! He's ready to kill her if he gets the chance, I swear!" Ron blurted out in one breath. "I'll dance with her!"
Hermione wanted to sink into the ground. Ron was drawing too much attention to an already overly uncomfortable situation, making it all the more absurd.
"Please, mister, take your place near your partner," Stefano insisted, looking Ron in the eye. There was something in his gaze that made him instantly quiet and, finally, with one last unkind look at Draco, he trudged away from them. Hermione knew that the Veela' descendants are born with excellent power of suggestion and hypnosis, and, apparently, Stefano was no exception. Ron had gone quiet and now he just stared at Draco with silent ferocity, crossing his arms over the chest. The brunet he had just approached was glaring at Hermione, with her eyes sparkling with displeasure.
"Does anyone want to say something else?" Stefano's gaze swept the room, and when there was only silence, he said with a smile: "That's good."
Matteo patted Hermione sympathetically on the shoulder and wished her luck as he left the dance floor: he wasn't supposed to be here at the moment. She looked after him with a look of hopeless longing and, trying not to notice Malfoy, turned her gaze to the stage.
"So, in order to learn the basic steps of bachata, please stand opposite each other so that the right half of your body occupies half of your partner's body," Maria said loudly and for greater clarity, she faced Stefano slightly to the left of him.
At that moment the music grew louder, and Hermione thought that the worst was about to begin. But she wasn't used to giving up, and even more so, she wasn't going to let Malfoy see her emotions. So, recruiting her willpower, Hermione turned sharply to face Draco. Malfoy looked down at her with all the indifference he could muster, so it somewhat simplified the task. Without saying a word, Hermione took a few steps to the left to stand as the dancers indicated. There was about twelve inches between her and Malfoy, but she couldn't bring herself to close the distance. However, he was in no hurry to do this either.
"Very well, now come close to your partners and stand in a closed position as we are showing you now," Stefano said, as if reading Hermione's thoughts, and pulled Maria to him. "Partners, please, pay attention, our left hand is kept in the lock, the right hand is on the lady's waist. Go ahead!"
Hermione desperately tried to pretend that she hadn't heard anything, and looked around with undue interest, still remaining in her place. Dangerously close to her were the dance teachers' assistants, who adjusted the wizards' positions relative to each other, gently correcting the flaws they saw. Hermione thought distantly that very soon she would inevitably have to be too intimate with the ferret, whether she wanted to or not, because the dancers probably wouldn't leave them alone. But how much she wanted to delay the onset of this moment! Hermione caught Ginny's sympathetic look and tried to smile at her, hoping that her friend wouldn't see her inner agony. Such a naivety.
"Well, Granger?" Hermione heard Malfoy's irritated voice.
Reluctantly, she turned and looked at him as if he were a flobberworm and asked with hostility:
"What?"
"How long should I wait before you come to me? We're kind of partners for tonight, or did you forget?" Draco grinned unkindly.
Hermione opened her mouth slightly at the audacity. Does the ferret expect her to take the initiative?
"Thank you for reminding me, Malfoy, but I have absolutely no desire to approach you, much less touch you," Hermione replied tartly, crossing her arms over her chest. "And by the way, isn't it a man who should make the first step?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"You're ridiculous, Granger! If it wasn't for your short-sightedness, you might have noticed that in a dance, a man invites a woman, and she comes up to him in return," Draco explained to Hermione, like to a child who doesn't understand obvious things.
Unfortunately, Malfoy was right. Hermione herself knew this very well, because even as a child, learning the basics of the dancing's art, she remembered that it was with such an invitation that all pair dances began.
"In that case, Malfoy, why haven't you invited me yet? The partner can't approach another partner without an invitation, or have you forgotten?" Hermione retorted, narrowing her eyes.
They glared at each other for a few seconds before Draco's left hand rose gracefully to meet her.
"Please, signorina," Malfoy said sarcastically with a nasty grin on his lips.
Hermione gasped involuntarily when she saw the tattoo on his forearm, it was also moving a little. She drew back from Malfoy before she could see it, but meeting his mocking gaze, pulled herself together. Proudly lifting her nose and taking a few confident steps towards Draco, Hermione placed her hand on his palm.
It was as if she'd been electrocuted. A slight shiver ran through her. Malfoy's hand was considerably larger than her own, it was obvious when he squeezed Hermione's hand. She held her breath, unable to look up at Draco. There was something eerily strange about this moment. Meanwhile, Malfoy pulled her gently towards him, but Hermione didn't follow his impulse.
"Granger, you remind me of a shy schoolgirl, stop acting like a teenager," Draco said irritably, squeezing her hand a little harder.
"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione said, still looking down at her feet. At this moment, she was cursing the day she had agreed to go to this crazy resort.
Suddenly, the graceful figure of a girl floated out of the crowd and headed straight in their direction.
"Signor, signorina, is there a problem? My name is Francesca, and you can ask me any questions you want," said the witch with an Italian accent, anxiously looking into their faces. She was one of those dancers to oversee the training of the guests.
"Yes, Donna, please show the young signorina how to properly accept a partner's invitation and pair up with him." Draco said quickly in his mocking manner, before Hermione could say anything. Granger instantly raised her head to meet his gaze. Malfoy was smiling unpleasantly and was showing with his whole appearance that he was damn pleased with himself.
"Oh, with pleasure, signor!" The witch reacted enthusiastically and, turning to Hermione, gently began to explain. "Signorina, now your partner will give you an impulse with his hand, and you try to follow him. You just need to listen to your partner, understand where he wants to direct you. It's so happened historically that the dance is always led by a man, and a woman must obey and comply with him."
Hermione nearly howled. Obey and comply with Malfoy! A more humiliating punishment for her was hard to come up with. Draco was struggling to keep his laughter from bursting out, and Hermione desperately wanted to throw some Unforgivable Curses at him. He obviously understood what the witch's words meant to Hermione: the complete collapse of the Gryffindor pride she held so dear.
Well, the ferret seems to find this whole situation very funny. Hermione gritted her teeth in anger, wondering what would be the best way to wipe that nasty grin off his face. Suddenly it dawned on her, and she instantly changed in face, with a hard smile, looked at Draco.
"Well, come on Malfoy, I'm waiting."
He sensed a change in her, and obviously didn't like it. Hermione, with the same expression on her face, watched as Malfoy mentally went through all possible moves on her part. After a moment's hesitation, he gently pulled her toward him, as if testing something, and she responded instantly, pressing her whole body against him with fervor. Draco clearly hadn't expected this turn of events, and his face tilted in surprise. Apparently, he thought that Hermione would continue being difficult, shyly hiding her eyes and afraid to take a step towards him. In his memory, she had probably always been a decent, proper nerd with a crow's nest on her head, and if Malfoy had been told that the same Granger would cling to him passionately on her own initiative, he would have advised the man to stop smoking excess Elven weed. But Draco seemed to have forgotten that it was not a simple Muggle girl from the backwoods, but Hermione Granger, one of the smartest and most gifted witches he had ever met. It was no secret that if it hadn't been for Granger's quick wits at the crucial moments of the war, the great Potter would have been feeding the worms long ago. Even now, she was obviously thinking two moves ahead.
"Excellent, just excellent!" The witch exclaimed enthusiastically. "And now, signor, put your right hand on the lady's waist."
Hermione was still looking at Malfoy expectantly with the same cruel mockery, still clinging tightly to him. She blocked out all her feelings and emotions, pushing the chilling horror of what was happening as far away as possible. Malfoy had taken her out wildly, and the desire to take revenge on him at the moment justified absolutely all means. The ferret had pulled his hands away from her with ostentatious disgust at the slightest, even accidental, contact at Hogwarts and Hermione was pretty sure that Malfoy's reaction to this had remained unchanged, as had his nasty temper. She was looking forward to the moment when he would push her away in disgust and refuse to dance with her, preferring to go back home. Putting up with such close contact with a Mudblood should have been beyond him.
But for some time, Draco, who was taken aback, was in no hurry to meet Hermione's expectations. On the contrary, his face slowly blossomed into the familiar nasty grin that didn't bode well, and an evil light lit up in his eyes.
"I see, Granger, that close contact turns you on, doesn't it?" Malfoy said slowly, in a low, muffled voice, leaning close to Hermione's ear, giving her goosebumps. "Well, I won't deprive you of that pleasure."
With that, his fingers touched her waist demandingly and Draco slid his palms down her body, pulling her even closer to him. Once again, Hermione felt as if she had been hit by a powerful electric shock. What is it? She gasped in surprise, and it was at that moment that the whole situation came crashing down on her. Like a house of cards, all her futile attempts to throw Malfoy off balance fell apart. On the contrary, she had fallen into her own trap. She shivered slightly as she realized that she was standing too close to Draco Malfoy, and from the outside they must have looked like two lovers in the most passionate period of their relationship. The only physical intimacy she'd ever had was with Ron when they made love, and it was unnerving. Hermione felt a violent attack of self-disgust, and she wanted to break free from Malfoy's grasping hands in order to run as far from this place as possible. How could she even find the strength to move more than twenty inches to him? No, this place definitely has a strange effect on her.
Hermione glared at Draco, who, with barely concealed triumph, was waiting for her next step. To retreat is to lose, to stay is to destroy the last bits of self-respect. Hermione didn't know which one was worse, so she just tried to kill Malfoy with a glare, mentally weighing the pros and cons of each decision.
"It's alright, just please move a little more to the left, miss. The partner's right leg should be between your legs," the witch's voice sounded nearby, whom Hermione had already forgotten.
"Wh-what?" she asked, turning to the witch, hoping that she had misheard,
"The bachata stand, look," the woman pointed to the stage, believing that the best explanation is a good example. Maria and Stefano were just explaining how the partners partner stand correctly relative to each other in the dance. Hermione noticed that the knees of both dancers were bent, their legs seemed to be holding each other. This created a closer contact in the couple, and purely visually it seemed that the woman was sitting on the knee of the partner.
Hermione quickly turned away from the stage and looked around, hoping to find confirmation that her fears were in vain. But, unfortunately, almost all couples were already in this position, although some felt clearly uncomfortable from such close contact.
"Spread your legs, Granger," Draco said mockingly, startling her. Malfoy has always been a moral freak, but he never stooped to such obscenity!
"How dare you, you vile, nasty…" Hermione started to protest, but was interrupted by Malfoy's sharp voice.
"Oh, Merlin, please shut this stupid girl up!" Draco asked, throwing back his head in resignation, and immediately fixed Hermione with a searching gaze.
"Granger, you have surprised me with your intelligence again in the last ten minutes! Tell me, have you always been like this, or is it your long association with the Weasleys that made you a cripple?"
"Signor, stop talking to the girl like that right now!" the dancer, who was still standing next to them, exclaimed sternly. She glared at Draco, but soon her gaze softened and she turned to Hermione.
"Signorina, this signor, even in a rough form, but still told the truth: you should spread your legs a little so that your partner can properly stand in relation to you."
For some reason, Hermione once again felt like a complete fool. When will this nightmare end? Annoyed, she shifted slightly to the left of Malfoy and carefully placed her right foot between his legs, and he did the same to her. They had to move a little away from each other to get into what they thought was the right position, which Hermione was very happy about. They were still dangerously close to each other, but in any case, it was already a very tolerable contact, compared to the previous position of their bodies.
"No, no, signorina, you must have misunderstood. To move slightly to the left of the partner doesn't mean to move away from him," the dancer shook her head and pushed Hermione with her hand to meet Draco again. Startled, she slammed into him, and they almost fell together, losing their balance.
"Careful, Mudblood," snapped Malfoy, his eyes flashing angrily, but then his expression changed. "I understand your excitement, Granger, but try to control yourself. There are people around, after all."
"Yes, you're right, it's going to take a lot of self-control not to kill you right here!" Hermione squeezed his hand tightly, burning with rage and embarrassment at the same time. How dare Malfoy even hint at such a thing! Although, it was her own fault that she had crossed the line in wanting to get back at him.
"Oh, you want to kill me with a hot sex session on the floor under the Weasleys' noses? I didn't think you had such a sophisticated imagination, Granger,"
Draco said with a cheeky grin. He glared pointedly at Hermione, obviously remembering the reckless behavior she had shown earlier. She was blushing furiously and choking with indignation.
"Sick pervert," Hermione finally spat contemptuously, and turned away from him. Her whole body seemed to burn with indignation, and the sensation of Malfoy's touch was almost unbearable. Hermione was wildly tempted to leave this cursed place, but only the thought of her friends, who were so eager to rest, stopped her. She was never selfish, and therefore was ready to endure any troubles and adversities, if only her loved ones were happy. But it suddenly dawned on Hermione that Ron, Ginny, and Harry must have seen everything. The thought paralyzed her. It was terrifying to imagine Ron's reaction if he had been watching all this performance of hers with Malfoy. She turned slowly in horror in the direction where Ron was standing, and then breathed a sigh of relief: apparently, the brunet had dragged him as far away from Hermione as possible, and he had no chance to see everything that had happened.
"...now repeat after us! It's very simple: we take four steps in one direction, and then in the other. At the same time, pay attention, at the last step of the movement in each of the sides, we put our foot on the toe, while making a slight accent with the hip," Maria's voice reached Hermione. Hermione hadn't noticed that she had missed a significant portion of the lecture. Glancing at Francesca, she realized that Francesca was still watching her and Draco intently. With a resigned sigh, Hermione gritted her teeth and looked firmly at Malfoy:
"All right, Malfoy, if we have to dance together, I prefer to do it without wasting my nerve cells. So I suggest we just ignore each other in silence for the duration of the dance lesson."
"Well, I can't say I'm entirely happy with your suggestion, Granger, but it sounds pretty good on the whole," Draco said slowly after a few seconds of thought.
"I would just like to make one condition."
"What's that?" Hermione asked tensely. She had expected a trick from Malfoy. By definition, he couldn't be too accommodating.
As if to confirm her words, Draco smiled indulgently and leaned toward her.
Hermione instinctively wanted to pull back, but she remained firmly in place.
"Don't snuggle up to me again if you don't want to get in trouble, Granger," Draco whispered in her ear.
Hermione snorted loudly.
"What kind of nonsense is that! As if I really wanted to," she said scornfully, trying to put as much disgust into her eyes as possible.
"You didn't think so a while ago," the Slytherin said, looking Hermione up and down with a meaningful look.
No, he definitely knew how to get to her.
"Signor, signorina, please stop bickering!" Francesca's angry voice distracted them both. Obviously, they had already annoyed her with their behavior. "I would advise you to start learning bachata by all means, or I will have to take you out of the hall," the dancer threatened in a categorical tone, and crossed her arms over her chest.
Hermione and Draco exchanged hostile glances, and when they realized there was no way out, they turned their attention to the stage.
"... and, one, two, three, four! One, two, three, emphasis!" Stefano counted loudly as he danced the main bachata move with Maria. They moved from side to side, huddled close together. Even this simple movement in their performance looked very piquant, which once again plunged Hermione into an unpleasant perplexity. It was just hard to imagine that she would have to dance it with Malfoy.
"Okay, Granger, let's get this over with," Draco said, tugging impatiently at her arm, forcing her to focus on him. He looked tired and annoyed.
"All right," said Hermione in an unnatural tone, swallowing hard. Her voice seemed a little higher than it normally was, and there was a great deal of anxiousness in it. Draco could see Granger's nervousness, but he didn't react. Instead, he tightened his grip on Hermione's waist a little more firmly and, listening to the rhythm, led her to the side. It was a surprise to her, but she quickly got her bearings, and with bated breath, she tried to adjust to Draco. To Hermione's annoyance, Malfoy moved flawlessly, and apparently was a great partner, but she absolutely didn't want to admit it. On the contrary, Hermione stared intently at the stage, repeating Maria's movements and trying as hard as possible not to think about Malfoy's painful closeness.
"Stop, stop!" That won't do," she heard Francesca say. Hermione and Draco looked at the sorceress in disbelief.
"Is something wrong?" Malfoy voiced their common thought.
"Yes, sir!" as if it were obvious, the dancer exclaimed. "Your eyes – that's what's wrong! You must look into each other's eyes!
Hermione took a sharp breath, as if about to say something, but immediately changed her mind and went limp. There was no point in arguing with Francesca, because, after all, her word was law to them today.
"Okay, Granger, let's try again," after a pause, Malfoy turned to her tensely, trying to hide his indignation. Outwardly, he looked quite calm, but Hermione had learned too much about the ferret in her seven years at Hogwarts not to judge him purely by his appearance. She had an intuitive feeling that Malfoy was ready to explode at any moment and leave this place for good. Frankly, she was amazed at his self-control, considering that the mere fact of touching a Mudblood should have made him lose his temper.
Finally, Hermione nodded grimly and looked up into his eyes with a frown of concentration. Draco gave her the same look, and something strange happened. Her whole body was covered with goosebumps, and a feeling so new to her stirred in her chest that Hermione involuntarily held her breath. Suddenly, all the sensations of their bodies touching increased a hundredfold, it seemed as if the room was getting hotter, and the whole world was gone, and it was at that moment that Draco led her away again, stepping exactly to the beat of the music, and she followed him. Hermione was burned by the touch of his hands, Malfoy's gaze was eating away at her soul, and the feeling of closeness was killing her. Nevertheless, as if on some strange impulse, she followed Draco as if spellbound, keeping a tight eye contact. Her feelings about it were so strange and frightening that Hermione couldn't understand them at all right now, and frankly, she didn't want to. It was as if there was a very strong electrified field between her and Malfoy, making it even harder to breathe next to it.
There was something wrong with that moment. Although no, absolutely everything was wrong! This shouldn't have happened, but for some unknown reason, it was these two, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, who danced with each other in one of the most sensual dances in the world. All emotions were mixed up, thoughts suddenly disappeared somewhere, and only the sounds of music took the two of them so unlike each other to an unprecedented distance, where no one else existed. Did they stop hating each other at that moment? Have they forgotten all the grievances? Of course not. Moreover, very soon they will curse the day when they agreed to visit this resort, resent and revolt, but it will be later. There was only one thing for them now – the magic of the dance.