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.

10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Soundtrack – Ewan McGregor, Jose Feliciano and Jacek Koman «El Tango de Roxanne»

Hermione was shivering.

She could barely control herself as she explained to her friends why she couldn't stay for the evening performance. Thank Merlin, they were too engrossed by what was happening to notice that something was wrong with her, so they believed her words unconditionally, and Hermione, citing fatigue, finally slipped out of the Great Hall.

Less than five minutes later, she was already sitting on the bed in her bungalow with her arms wrapped around her knees. The body and face were on fire, the head seemed to explode with tension, and there was still a lingering excitement in the pit of her stomach.

In moments like these, Hermione hated herself.

Hated because she'd taken longer than usual to get ready for the evening's performance, so that she'd look at least as good as this beautiful Italian girl, Malfoy's passion.

Hated because when she'd put on her best dress the day before and caught Draco glaring at her with a hint of lust, sitting across from him in the Great Hall, she'd felt an inner, painful satisfaction.

She hated herself for the reason that in the end, she provoked the situation in which she found herself.

She pissed him off, said the words that – she knew for sure – would touch him, crush him.

And when he pushed her against the wall and suddenly began to say all these terribly vulgar words, to say something that made her have goosebumps, feel so hot inside, she, in addition to anger, beyond her will, felt a rising desire in her body, for which she hated herself bitterly at the same moment.

His hands on her skin, those burning touches, his gaze with a shadow of madness, his hot breath, his firmness, his excitement, and on the other hand, her lust, readiness, passion, desire to fall again and again...

She didn't understand where it came from, such a craving for him.

She hated herself for the fact that when he touched her, she prayed to him in her mind that he wouldn't stop.

She hated so much that, even trying to dodge his demanding, hot lips, she still couldn't control herself and gave up to the power of emotions.

She kissed him back. And this damn kiss broke her, folded her in half, totally knocked her out, made her feel so humiliated and desired at the same time.

And she still wanted him. And if now, if he only...

Hermione, with a frustrated groan, fell onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow, tucking her legs under her. Her body was shivering. The treacherous tears that she had held back so bravely during these last damned minutes of heart-searching welled up in her eyes.

There was only one thought on her mind: "I hate it, hate it, hate it…"

She hit her pillow with her fists and choked, cried, sobbed as if tears could change something.

But most of all, with every part of her body, with all her heart and soul, she hated herself because she knew that if she hadn't used all her willpower to push him away, she would have let him do everything.

If he only wanted to.

Draco was rough, much rougher than usual. They had had rough sex before, but this was different.

From the very beginning, as soon as they were in their bungalow, he had attacked her like a wounded animal on its prey. Torn clothes, erratic hand movements, bites, anger, where did he get so much anger from?..

And then the pain, the blood-bitten lips, the bruises he had unknowingly left on her body, and that crazy look, the one that made her afraid. What's the matter with him?..

She was almost glad when he turned her back on him, better than see those eyes that seemed to be looking past her. He was pulling her hair, making arch even more, making her moan harder, louder. And it seemed at that moment he had no control over his strength, when he was grabbing her thighs so roughly that she was seriously afraid of not being able to walk properly afterwards. Does he even know what he's doing?..

And when he let out an inhuman growl and abruptly entered her for the last time and poured inside, she involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief.

Not that she didn't like it – Draco was a great lover and had given her some doze of pleasure – but she was scared as hell by his behaviour.

And then, finally, he seemed to come to his senses again and lost interest in everything around.

Even to her.

Elisa watched him. He was lying on his back, with outstretched arms, staring blankly at the ceiling. It was as if the madness of a moment ago had never happened.

"Draco..."

No reaction. Still that blank stare and the stillness of the body.

But Elisa didn't plan on giving up. After all, she was leaving tomorrow, and she needed to know that everything was all right before she left this resort, withdrawing from him for a while.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

And no response. It was already beginning to annoy her.

"If you're going to ignore me, then this is…"

"I'm sorry, El."

He said it without expression, still staring at the ceiling.

She even opened her mouth in amazement.

"Sorry for what?" she asked, frowning.

"I guess you're not thrilled with everything that just happened."

"Well..."

She didn't know what to say.

"I had a fight with someone while you were dancing with Weasley. It unsettled me a little."

Elisa looked at him incredulously. Draco's face was completely devoid of emotion, so she couldn't tell if he was lying or not.

"A fight?" she asked, trying to tone her voice as neutral as possible. "With whom?"

After her question, Draco slowly got out of the bed and, naked, walked to the table. He picked up the instantly materialized bottle of Firewhiskey, poured some into his glass, and emptied it immediately.

"It doesn't matter," he finally answered, turning to face her. "I'm too tired, so let's talk about it tomorrow."

Something was wrong. In his words, movements, in his eyes... And it definitely scared her. More than ever.

She tried to control herself.

"Tomorrow..." propping herself up on one elbow, Elisa began. "I'm leaving, Draco. Or have you forgotten about it?"

"No."

"No" – and that's all he can say?!

She was getting peeved more and more.

"Draco, I don't know what the hell is going on, but there's clearly something wrong with you. And we will talk about it today, now!"

Malfoy closed his eyes and massaged his temples with his fingertips. He seemed to be suffering from a terrible migraine.

"El, please don't start now."

"Don't start? Do I have a choice?! You don't say anything, and I don't know what the hell happened to you! And frankly speaking…"

She stopped suddenly as the memories, like pieces of jigsaw puzzles, folded into one big picture in her head.

Understanding flooded her, spreading burning, slow ache all over her body.

No, this can't be happening.

Really?..

She decided to ask directly.

"Does it have something to do with Hermione Granger?"

Her worst fears were confirmed when he abruptly opened his eyes and looked at her clearly, frowning slightly. There was no trace of the former indifference.

"What made you think so?"

His voice trembled a little, and there was something so dark in his eyes that it made Elisa's skin crawl.

"You were both out of the hall for about thirty minutes."

"A coincidence."

"And she was feeling unwell after she came back..."

"That doesn't make sense."

"She ran home so fast that she barely had time to say goodbye."

"Nonsense."

"And your behaviour, that sex… You were too rude."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"And your reaction when I asked about her. Don't deny it, Draco, you gave yourself away!"

They stared at each other for a while, as if competing. There were so many things in his eyes ... So frightening? Dark? Desperate? She felt creepy.

But to her relief, Draco eventually relaxed, and a slight grin appeared on his face. But that look, his eyes…

"All right, El, believe what you want."

He walked over to the bed and laid down beside her, throwing his hands behind the head.

Elisa waited for him to continue, but Draco was silent.

And she couldn't stand it, jumped up abruptly and, putting on a silk robe over her naked body, wrapped it tightly.

"I've had enough. I pack my things and leave immediately."

Malfoy, reluctantly, turned in her direction, raising an eyebrow.

"El, it's the middle of the night, where will you go?"

"Where I'll find directly answered questions," she blurted out caustically, crossing her arms over her chest.

Draco sat up. He looked exhausted.

"El, please..."

The Italian woman seemed to be scanning him, peering into his eyes with disbelief. Thousands of thoughts flashed through her head, but one was special, so different from the others that she wanted to scream.

And she made up her mind again.

It won't get any worse.

"Something is going on between you and her, Draco."

Her voice sounded so calm that she was surprised. And she certainly noticed that the question stunned him for a while, disarmed and immobilized him completely.

And when Draco laughed, so artfully putting on a mask of nonchalance, her whole body was stiffened with a cold, eerie understanding.

"You're kidding, right?"

That mocking tone. Come on, Draco! As if we both don't know the answer.

"No, I'm not."

He sobered up instantly and got out of bed again. El watched him with a distant expression. Just a few steps and Draco was already next to her. She felt his demanding embrace, his lips on her neck, and hot breath, which still made her lose control every time. He always did that when he wanted to calm her down, and words didn't help. And although sex didn't solve the problem, somehow everything seemed not so important at once.

And she felt her anger dissipate. And she wanted him to help distract her, so that she wouldn't have to think about what was so clear.

She'd given in to his caresses again, believed him, even though she knew it was just a poor attempt to hide from the truth for the two of them.

And if she was being honest, she knew that she didn't really want to get to the bottom of truth.

To voice it, to talk about it.

No.

She wanted to keep the shaky paradise they were in together, just her and him, Draco and Elisa. Holding on to the last straw, the silly hope that everything will be the same as before.

And they will be happy.

She didn't notice, didn't hear, or rather chose not to hear, as over the ragged breathing, over the low moans, over all the sounds that surrounded them, he whispered a name.

And it wasn't hers.

"What is it?"

Hermione frowned slightly as she studied the colourful flyer Ginny had just shoved into her hands.

"This is where we're going now," she said, brushing her fiery hair.

"Fair, circus acts, rides..." Hermione began to read aloud, as the words followed each other. "That doesn't sound like the description of the heavenly garden we were going to take a walk in."

"As for me, the idea of the garden was dumb from the beginning," Ron said, lounging on the sofa. "I mean, it's just some plants."

"These "just some plants" were included in the list of the most unique natural wonders of the wizarding world, Ron," Hermione said reproachfully.

"And yet, Ron is right. We can take a walk in the garden at any other time, but it's worth going here."

With that, Harry stared at the flyer over Hermione's shoulder, watching the bright, enticing photographs of the holiday replace each other.

"All right," Hermione didn't argue. "When is the opening?"

Ginny threw her hairbrush aside, then went to the coffee table and picked up Harry's wristwatch.

"Well, it's fifteen minutes to ten, so the opening time... was fifteen minutes ago."

"What are we waiting for?" Ron jumped up from the sofa. "Let's go!"

And then, twenty minutes later, they were standing in the square, at the entrance to the fair, and looking around enthusiastically. Their eyes were dazzled by the abundance of colours, bright lights, and the flurry of wizards that filled the entire enclosed area of the square like ants.

Hermione made sure that she had already been here at the very beginning of her vacation at this resort. The same tents, marquees and benches, gypsies, touts and merchants. But still, now that the Magnolia was already shrouded in the evening gloom, this place, which seemed to sparkle with millions of multi-coloured lights, was perceived completely differently. It seemed to Hermione that she was in a magical land where there was no place for sadness, sorrow and despondency, where only laughter, joy and fun reigned.

"Merlin, I don't even know where to begin," Ginny muttered in confusion as she gazed around the square enthusiastically.

"When you don't know where to begin, begin at the beginning," Harry quoted, and moved forward confidently to the nearest tent. The others followed him.

First they met a small shop selling all kinds of sweets, and the friends immediately got large balls of cotton candy and slowly moved on. They were constantly exchanging enthusiastic phrases, now and then pointing in one direction or another.

"Look at that! I've never seen such a huge Ferris wheel before!" Ginny exclaimed, looking off into the distance. "Let's take a ride!"

The guys immediately supported her idea, although Hermione still had some doubts.

The magic Ferris wheel looked slightly different than in the Muggle world. In addition to its truly terrifying height, the cabins that slowly drifting upward had no partitions or anything else that could protect them from falling on an ordinary carousel.

Of course, the wheel was enchanted. Hermione was sure of it, because she had read in a chapter of "The Story of La Bella Magnolia" about the rides that were at this resort. It was impossible to break down, because invisible walls were erected on either side of the wizards sitting in the cabins, blocking any attempts to step outside.

And when she and her friends came close to the rotating structure, striking in its scale, when she saw the faces of the wizards with a mixture of horror and delight, rushing up, she realized that hardly any of them would have such a desire to move even an inch from the bench.

And suddenly she wanted to feel all the emotions that they experienced, being inside the cabins, floating under the very dome of the sky.

"I got the tickets," Harry said breathlessly as he returned from the ticket booth.

"Great! We can go now," Ginny said, and the friends moved toward the steps leading up to the ride.

The cabins moved slowly, but without stopping, so they had to try to climb very quickly to get the four of them onto the platform supporting the two benches facing each other.

Hermione's heart raced as she almost lost her balance and sat down next to Ron. Unconsciously, she clung to the seat, afraid to move. And the faster the cabin sped up, the more adrenaline shot through her head as she stared down, as if into an abyss, at the very edge.

"I'm scared as hell, but just look at this!"

Ginny's voice trembled slightly with excitement, and her eyes glittered madly as she surveyed the surroundings in front of her in admiration. Harry pulled her close to him, hugging her firmly, and Hermione was sure that for them it was a special, romantic moment that could only be kept by silence.

The noise of the fair remained somewhere out there, in the distance, people began to resemble small flickering dots, and all that Hermione saw, being at the very top, under the dome of the sky, was an endless array of beautiful lights that dressed the Magnolia in a magical glow.

The main building, the palace, which they had inspected with such enthusiasm on the very first day of their arrival, now seemed nothing more than a natural addition to the general view of the resort that stretched out in front of her.

Small bungalows, scattered in beads across Magnolia's territory, were connected by thin threads of paths illuminated by lanterns. And these flowers, palms, plants, all that bright cover of nature, enveloping everything around! Even through the twilight haze, Hermione saw this splendour, the variety of colours and shades of the Beautiful Magnolia landscape.

And of course the sea, endless, viscous and so amazing, had no end in sight. The timid stars that appeared in the sky seemed to be drowning in its waters, reflecting in the water with a ghostly light, and it was impossible to understand where was the line between the sky and the water element, an endless, primordial creation of nature.

And suddenly Hermione saw, understood that all these lights, houses, bungalows, palm trees, roads, everything that filled the resort with diversity, had the shape of a huge, majestic magnolia flower shining with its perfection. The most beautiful flower that could only be imagined and which, it seemed, belonged to her alone and others separately. And she realized where this name came from – La Mia Bella Magnolia. My Beautiful Magnolia. How could such a magical place be called differently?..

And only somewhere far away, behind the dark hills of wilderness, which were illuminated only by the light of the young moon, she saw the barely perceptible outlines of mountain peaks in a ghostly haze. As if rejected, cold, renounced of all this splendor, celebration, light, they silently loomed somewhere out there, in the distance.

And something in Hermione quivered.

All of a sudden, a parallel arose in her head between what she had seen and her own life.

Here she is, as the bright lights of the Magnolia, in the epicentre of fun, carnival, pleasure, where everything is so clear, easy and carefree. She laughs, smiles, sometimes jokes, and everyone believes that she's happy.

She almost believes it herself.

And yet, somewhere out there, in the depths of her soul, ghostly, unshakably, was hidden what she had so diligently hidden from friends, from herself, from the whole world. Cold, despair, anger and the memories that had been haunting her for the past few days. They haven't gone anywhere, it's inside, right next to her. Immobile as the mountains, endless as the sea, desperate as the light that hides the darkness.

But she wouldn't let it get out.

For the past four days, she had almost forgotten. She almost assured herself that nothing had happened, that it was the phantom of her inflamed imagination. She hadn't seen Malfoy all these days, but she had dreamed about him, had visions of him at night, and now she could see his face clearly as she gave herself to him in the dream. And, funny, of course, she had almost assured herself that all those touches, kisses, all those things that kept her from thinking properly, were just a dream. This was the only thing that gave her the strength to communicate with friends, as if nothing had happened, to rest, to almost living a normal life.

Almost.

Before she knew it, they finished a ride and were almost near the steps.

"Are you ready?" Harry commanded. "Go ahead!"

And the friends in turn hurried off the platform of the cabin. Ron managed to catch Hermione at the very last moment, otherwise she would have just tumbled down the stairs.

"Thank you, you saved me," she thanked heartily, and Ron smiled in satisfaction.

"It's a pleasure."

He said that and looked thoughtfully at Hermione, holding his hands on her waist for a moment longer than necessary.

And she realized that his feelings for her were still alive.

Hermione felt bitter.

They moved on. Everyone seemed to be thinking about something different. Ginny walked arm in arm with Harry a little ahead, leaning her head on his shoulder, while Hermione and Ron followed close behind. Everyone was silent, still under the impression of what they had seen.

Suddenly, the boys' attention was drawn to something in the distance.

"Hey Harry, look! It seems like there is some kind of competition. I think I can see the Snitch!" Ron exclaimed, jabbing a finger somewhere to his right.

Hermione followed his gaze and saw a young boy in the distance, straddling a broom, trying to catch the snitch that kept flashing right in front of his nose. But the problem was complicated by the fact that the broom had obviously been enchanted, and now the poor guy was swaying from side to side, causing the crowd to gather around a small piece of land, shouting and hooting, supporting him. And when the guy finally clumsily fell off the broom, another man, who looked much older, almost immediately, took his place.

"You're right, buddy! Shall we go and see it?" Harry suggested, his eyes lighting up as he peered into the distance. Being an excellent seeker, he probably would like to take part in the competition himself.

"No, no, no, guys!" Hermione raised her hands in protest as if reading her friend's mind. "I know how such games usually end. Let's just move on!"

"Oh, come on, Hermione, don't be such a bore! It's not dangerous at all, is it, Harry?" Ron said, grimacing.

Potter nodded, not even coming to grips with the question, because he was so busy watching the new contender for the victory.

"Well, if that's what you want, you can go to this stupid viewing of mangled bodies, broken noses and limbs, but I won't set foot in there," Hermione said flatly, crossing her arms over the chest. "Ginny, are you with me?"

But the younger Weasley didn't seem to mind joining them, so she looked at Hermione with a vague expression.

"Well, if that's what they want, let them watch a little..." she began hesitantly, looking with interest at the seeker participating in the competition.

"Ginny!" Hermione looked at her indignantly.

"In the meantime, we can go to that store you told me about, remember?" her friend said quickly, turning deaf ear to Hermione's exclamation, after which she already looked at Ron and Harry. "Just please, please don't climb on this broom! Otherwise, you will definitely be crippled!"

"And that's exactly how it will be!" Hermione flashed her eyes, akimbo.

But the boys couldn't hear them anymore. The new seeker's attempts to get the snitch while riding a crazed broomstick were definitely more interesting to them than the girls' chatter.

"Holy Merlin, what an idiot!" Harry roared suddenly, still not paying attention to what was happening around him, and took several steps forward, emotionally exchanging impressions with Ron about the wrong tactics of the newly made seeker.

Hermione, who had been watching them for a while, finally gave a resigned sigh and turned to Ginny.

"Okay, let's go. We are hardly more interesting to them now than the Flobberworms. I just don't understand how you agreed to let them go so easily. They'll probably climb on that stupid broom!"

"I just knew we weren't going to be able to hold them. Once they see a broom, the snitch, or something like that, they lose the ability to think about anything else," she said, and shook her head reproachfully, looking in the direction of the guys. "But fortunately, they have some pretty good Quidditch skills, and they have heads on their shoulders, so I don't think we have anything to worry about."

Although Hermione wasn't too sure about her friend's second argument, she just shook her head and didn't argue.

After all, they were at the Magical Resort, and it was unlikely that anything bad could happen here.

Harry and Ron had clearly picked up on the excitement of the competition and were now jumping up and down, shouting out some phrases, while Hermione had an ominous memory of how she had almost lost her life in the waters of the Magnolia Sea.

"We'll see you here in half an hour!" Ginny shouted, waving at the boys.

Ron, who heard this, only shook his head impatiently in agreement, and then, pulling Harry with him, quickly headed in the direction of the competition.

Hermione's mood instantly soured as she remembered what, or rather who, had kept her alive.

They were strolling through the fairground when Ginny's eyes suddenly lit up.

"Hermione, can we go there?"

They were near a dark blue tent, which was different from all the others in its low-key appearance and was located a little to the side. The sign hanging in the air was engraved in gold letters: "Madame Violette. Fortune-telling. I only tell the truth."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. She remembered the few divination classes she'd had at Hogwarts, and she could tell that it was the most clueless subject taught at the school.

"Are you serious?" she looked at Ginny incredulously.

"Why not? Just check whether she really says "only the truth" or going on about wild nonsense, over which you can then heartily laugh."

Hermione almost smiled as she remembered how Harry and Ron, while doing their divination homework, had made up stupid predictions for themselves, that, however, almost every time coincided with what Professor Trelawney had seen in her "visions".

"I'm not sure," Hermione said uncertainly, looking around the tent sceptically. "Maybe we shouldn't? Let's go on, take a walk…"

"We definitely should."

With that, Ginny grabbed her arm and practically dragged her deeper into the tent.

Hermione resisted indignantly at first, but once inside, she froze. Twilight reigned around, only slightly dissipated by the flickering of little stars that dotted the walls of a small room.

The first thing that caught her eye was a large round table with a black shawl draped over it. It was undoubtedly a key element of the interior of the room, which, apart from a couple of simple wooden chairs, a worn velvet ottoman, and the table itself, had nothing else.

"Sit down," a deep, imperious voice came from somewhere in the depths of the room, then suddenly, two chairs flew up to the table and crushed to the floor.

Hermione flinched in surprise and squinted a little, trying to see the fortune-teller.

In vain.

Ginny tugged at Hermione's sleeve impatiently, nodding toward the chairs.

"Come on," she whispered and moved forward cautiously.

Hermione, in turn, seemed rooted to the spot. There was something about the energy in the room that made her feel sick. She wanted to leave, but for some reason she couldn't move.

"Leave before it's too late", she thought.

And suddenly she felt as if some force had pulled her to the table and sat her down on a chair.

Hermione was stunned.

But in less than ten seconds, she, Madame Violette, stepped out of the shadows. It was a good-sized older woman. Long skirts of various colours, worn one on top of the other and rustling under her feet, only emphasized the overall size of her curves. She wore a lot of bracelets on her arms that clinked with every step, huge hoop earrings sparkled in her ears, and black curly hair stood out from under a crimson headscarf tied in the form of a bandana on her head. But the most remarkable element in the gypsy's appearance was her piercing black eyes, which seemed to hypnotize the beholder.

"You both don't believe much in fortune-telling. Why did you come then?" the fortune-teller asked somewhat rudely, slowly sitting down at the table.

Hermione took a breath to say something, but couldn't get a word out.

An inexplicable feeling of dread seemed to bind her body.

"We want to know our fate. Or what are you doing here?" Ginny answered in a slightly trembling voice, glancing at her friend and winking at her.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Sometimes knowledge can lead to irreversible consequences," Madame Violette said after a moment, and turned her heavy gaze on Hermione. "Won't you regret it later, girl? Think carefully."

Frankly speaking, Hermione was already regretting getting involved in this adventure. She thought she would find herself in some simple room, lined with glass balls and hung with herbs, where there would be someone like Trelawney with her silly appearance. But the gypsy was the complete opposite of Sibyl, and Hermione intuitively felt that she, unlike the school professor, still had abilities.

And she didn't like it.

The gypsy stared at her as if she were trying to scan her all over, and Hermione finally managed to pull herself together.

Why the hell did she nearly give up? All these long looks, the oppressive atmosphere, and mysterious words are nothing more than tricks often used by foolers.

The thought cheered Hermione up.

"No, I'm sure of my decision," she said coldly, holding the gypsy's gaze.

"Well," Madame Violette began, leaning back in her chair, "I warned you."

With that, she took out the well-worn cards, shuffled them a little, and handed them to Ginny.

"You're the first, it's easier with you. Move the deck to your heart."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and watched sceptically as her friend obeyed.

Right after that, the gypsy began to lay out the cards in front of her, constantly muttering something under her breath. Hermione exchanged a glance with Ginny and gave her a reassuring smile. Obviously, her friend was taking the whole performance quite seriously and was peering intently at the reading spread out in front of her.

"I see you're happy," Madame Violette finally began, drawing three cards to her. "Many friends nearby, a big family and a lover."

Hermione snorted.

Such a "prediction" could have been made by herself, even if she had seen Ginny for the first time. The blooming appearance, the wedding ring on her finger, the friend next to her – just a small part of the facts, comparing which it was easy to say what the gypsy said.

"But it wasn't always like that," Madame Violette continued matter-of-factly. "You've been through a lot. I understand how hard it was for you."

Even better.

Everyone has had some difficult moments in their lives. And taking into account the past war, that affected almost everyone, then there's no need to go to the fortune-teller, everything is so clear.

Hermione was beginning to get annoyed, but suddenly she heard words addressed to Ginny that gave her some thought:

"Keeping a secret like yours can only be done by a strong person. But you were aware of the consequences when you did it."

What is she talking about?.. Hermione frowned slightly.

She was sure that Ginny was grinning at the gypsy's words, but when she turned to her, she realized that her friend's reaction was completely different.

Ginny seemed to freeze and, opening her mouth slightly, stared at the fortune-teller with all her eyes. There was... fear on her face?

"You don't want me to talk about this right now… I understand."

Madame Violette's words hung in the tight silence of the room, and Hermione's frown deepened. Why is Ginny acting so weird? Why doesn't she grin at the obvious nonsense? And where does this fear come from?

And suddenly she understood.

Well, of course. This gipsy look, which seemed to hypnotize.

Obviously, Ginny has succumbed to her influence and now doesn't even fully realize that she is listening to complete absurdity.

"Your future husband is a great man. His name is on the lips of many. But all he wants is you, and so it will be until death. You will love each other…"

The gypsy began to say something about family, children, and Hermione relaxed again, taking in her speech every word. All the phrases were of a general type, each of which she could easily explain from a logical point of view, using, at the same time, a minimum of mental abilities.

She was almost bored when Madame Violette suddenly addressed her.

"Well, girl, it's your turn."

Hermione glanced at Ginny. She looked dumbfounded.

Come on, did she really believe this nonsense?

And when her friend turned a startled look on her, Hermione realized that yes, she did.

"Move the deck," the gypsy ordered her, and Hermione looking sceptically at Madame Violette, pulled a few cards towards her.

"You may not believe me, but I'll tell you what I see."

The gypsy stared at her as she spread the deck out in front of her, and suddenly one card flew out of the sheaf. Madame Violette held it up to her eyes and turned it to Hermione.

"Here is the one who haunts you day and night."

The card showed a slender, blond-haired man looking at Hermione with a bored expression.

She was wary.

"It's not surprising, you've gone through a lot with him," the gypsy stated, glancing over the cards, and suddenly Hermione wanted her to shut up. "It's true, through a lot…"

Madame Violette smacked her lips, then gathered all the cards into one deck and put it somewhere under the table.

Is that all?.. Hermione was confused.

"I don't understand you. What do you mean?" she asked, frowning.

Suddenly the gypsy looked at her heavily, crossing thick fingers in front of her.

"Listen to me carefully. You cannot change anything. It's impossible to change what has gone too far. No matter how hard you try to leave, you will go back to where it all started. It will always be in you and him, how can you not understand? Nothing will help you."

Hermione really didn't understand what the fortune-teller was talking about, but her words were seeping through her skin and, for whatever reason, Hermione began to shiver.

"I feel sorry for you, girl. Big changes are waiting for you, and it will be very difficult to deal with. Well, as the saying runs, as you have made this mess, now you must clear it up."

That was the last straw.

That's enough.

Hermione got up abruptly from her chair.

"I think you're talking nonsense. I don't believe a single word you say."

She stared bravely at the fortune-teller, crossing her arms over the chest."

She just laughed.

"You don't believe it, because you don't understand it yet, or you don't want to. But never mind, soon the secret will be revealed, and you will remember my words."

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to Ginny.

"I'm not going to listen to any more of this absurdity. Are you coming?"

Ginny was sitting as if thunderstruck, and when she heard her friend's question, she started.

"Yes, yes... of course."

Ginny stood up nervously and looked at the gypsy.:

"How much do we owe you?"

"Nothing. I'm talking nonsense, don't you agree?.."

Hermione could still hear the fortune-teller's laughter behind them as she stormed out of the tent. After a while, Ginny came out too. She looked shocked and a little upset.

"Don't tell me you believed her! This fool was saying some general abstract phrases that can't be called anything but delirium," Hermione said hotly, trying to calm the strange trembling in her body.

She must have been too nervous listening to this utter nonsense.

"But the gypsy did say some of the truth," Ginny said thoughtfully. "Although… You're right. She was talking complete delirium. Let's just forget about it."

Hermione looked at her friend incredulously and sighed heavily.

"All right, I agree. It's time for us to go to Harry and Ron, and I sincerely hope we don't have to take one of them off that crazy broom."

Ginny smiled grimly at her words.

"Climbing on a broom is still half the battle. I hope that none of them had time to fall off it, having painted their faces in purple or red..."

They spent the rest of the way to the meeting place in light-hearted chatter, never once recalling their strange trip to the fortune-teller.

And yet, Hermione, without admitting it to herself, periodically thought back to her words. It was all nonsense, of course, but a part of her wondered if the fortune-teller was telling the truth. And this card that fell out of the deck… Was it a coincidence that it showed a fair-haired man?

"The one who haunts you day and night."

What about the words the gypsy said to Ginny? About the secret that her friend keeps. Of course, everyone has their secrets, but why was Ginny so scared of those words? Why does she, while maintaining a conversation now, still periodically fall silent and clouded up?

Hermione was uneasy with all these thoughts and questions, and she made an effort to distract herself.

They saw Harry and Ron from afar, and began to peer warily at their faces.

Fortunately, the guys were safe and sound, with no traces of a fall on their face and body.

"Where have you been for so long? We were getting worried," Harry said as the girls approached them.

"Forgive us! Just lost track of time... " Hermione began, stealing a glance at Ginny with a silent question in her eyes: should I say it or not?

"Yes, that's right. There're so many entertaining things around!" catching her eye, her friend continued. "But most of all I liked the tent with its pretty flower jewellery, although Hermione was definitely impressed by the antique bookstore."

Ginny had chosen to keep it a secret, and Hermione was relieved. After all, why would the guys know about their stupid idea of going to a fortune-teller? They would have laughed at them for sure, and that would have been the main teasing topic for the whole evening. Undoubtedly.

"Good old Hermione, not a day without books," Ron grinned, winking at her.

"I'd leave that mocking tone to yourself, Ronald," she said reproachfully. "And would you and Harry rather tell us how you managed to resist the temptation to participate in the competition?"

Hearing her question, the guys looked at each other, and both smiled with equal satisfaction.

"We didn't manage."

Hermione and Ginny stared at them blankly.

"What do you mean, you didn't?" the younger Weasley finally asked.

"That's what it means," Harry said and took the snitch out of his pocket. "I got it!"

"Yes, he caught the damn snitch! I can't hold my emotions back any longer," Ron said, clapping his hand on Harry's with a satisfied laugh.

They were as happy as children, and Hermione couldn't help but smile.

"Well, congratulations," Ginny said, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows. "But it's a miracle you came back safe and sound! What would have happened if you had fallen, Harry? Can you imagine how worried we'd all be?!"

"Ginny, honey, it's all right, isn't it?" Potter looked into her eyes with a smile and put his hands on her shoulders. "Let's not get excited about nonsense! In addition, now I have the trophy that I will show to my future children and tell them how hard it was for me to get it!"

Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically at his words:

"All right, my hero! Just don't forget to mention to the children that it's not worth taking an example from you in this particular case."

"No problem, ma'am!" Harry laughed and kissed the top of her head.

The friends were still standing there, exchanging banter, when they suddenly saw an Italian man in a uniform with a magnolia flower on his chest, rapidly approaching them.

"Matteo!" Ginny exclaimed in surprise as he stepped closer. "How are you? We haven't seen you for a long time!"

The guy smiled pleasantly, though he looked a little worried.

"Good evening, everyone! Thank you, signorina, I'm perfectly fine, but it will be even better if you help me out."

"Of course, not an issue! What we got to do?" Ginny asked, frowning slightly.

The Italian man looked around at everyone present with a pleading look.

"A friend of mine is doing a little show on that stage over there," he said, gesturing off into the distance, "and he just urgently needs twenty people to enter the competition. We found sixteen, so if you agree…"

"Stop, stop, stop. If it's dancing…" Harry interrupted warily, but Matteo cut him off impatiently.

"Don't worry, signor, no dancing. Just easy tasks that you will need to complete as a team. That's all."

There was so much pleading in his eyes that Hermione took pity.

"All right, Matteo, we'll help you. Take us to your friend."

"Wait, did you think carefully? Are you sure?" Ron asked her softly, looking at the Magnolia's employee with displeasure all the while.

"Of course she's sure, what's the question?" Ginny hushed at her brother. "And keeping in mind that you both owe us for your thoughtless trick with participation in that competition, then consider that you two have a great opportunity to pay off!"

Ron rolled his eyes and swore under his breath.

"Mille grazie, signore and signori! You just can't imagine how you will help out my friend!" Matteo thanked him emotionally, with a big smile on his face. "Let's go faster! Otherwise, I'm afraid Maurizio's show is going to fail."

"It's a pleasure," Hermione lied, almost artfully, as she followed him uncertainly. She turned to look at her friends and caught two angry glances from Ron and Harry.

"Oh, come on! Stop looking at me like that. After all, Ginny is right: you owe us."

And the guys, looking at each other grimly, reluctantly followed, saying something in the spirit of "we will call you on it".

In less than ten minutes, the four of them were standing on the stage, surrounded by spotlights and a crowd of viewers. Other wizards who participated in the competition, looked much more relaxed and liberated. Hermione felt uncomfortable and didn't understand at all how one could feel differently, standing under the spotlights.

"So you're divided into two teams of ten," a chubby, short Italian named Maurizio, who played the role of entertainer on this small show program, began busily. "Now your task is to show the words that I will call utilizing pantomime, without using magic wands! And when I announce the end of the competition, the audience will vote for the team they like the most, after which the members of the winning team will receive unique gifts from our resort!"

The hall exploded with cheers of support, and before Hermione even had time to react, Maurizio shouted:

"Let's start! And the first task: a herd of unicorns!.."

And then there was the Quidditch championship, a band of music and a palm grove.

Hermione and her friends laughed to tears from those around them and themselves, clumsily trying to complete the tasks as convincingly as possible. Not a trace of the former stiffness remained, everyone was having fun and fooling around like small children when in the next round they tried to depict palm trees with wide waving leaves and coconuts hanging from their tops.

"We probably look like idiots from the outside, but I don't give a damn!" Ginny yelled at her cheerfully, nodding at the crowd of wizards laughing in front of the stage.

"Neither do I! I never thought it would be so much fun!" Hermione said sincerely, wiping away tears of laughter.

"...And now, the Magnolia Palace!" the entertainer suddenly announced, and the teams huddled together to discuss the task.

"So, we need to create a high building! I suggest you put the girls on our shoulders!" Harry said, looking around at the three members of the fair sex present in the team.

"Not me, exactly – I'm wearing a skirt!" Hermione called back.

"All right, then, let Ginny and Octavia sit on Harry and Pablo's shoulders, representing the side towers of the palace, and you'll be lifted in the centre by Ron – he's the tallest! This way, we'll get a wonderful "dome" in your performance," one of the guys who were part of their team smiled at her matter-of-factly. Seems that his name was Nikola.

"Exactly! And the rest of us can do columns, or Veela fluttering around them, if you like," Ginny responded, and everyone laughed.

Hermione didn't really want to be a "dome", especially considering that Ron would have to grab her ass to lift her up, but she didn't argue. After all, she could hardly have felt more comfortable sitting on someone's shoulders and pretending to be a "tower."

And then, as all the members of her team dispersed to their places and took their chosen poses, she felt Ron crouch slightly, grab her by the hips and lift up, facing her. The toes of her shoes have left the floor, and now Hermione is towering over the stage, her hands raised in the air and her palms joined above her head. Apparently, from the side of their "palace" looked good, because from the crowd there was applause and enthusiastic hooting.

And then, everything was like in slow motion.

Hermione turned to Ginny, who was sitting on Harry's shoulders, and exchanged glances with her, laughing merrily. And when she looked away, toward the crowd, she suddenly froze with a hard-set smile.

Draco Malfoy stood with his head slightly bent to one side and his arms crossed over his chest about 16 feet from the stage. He was bored leaning against a street light, looking directly at her. His shirt sleeves were casually rolled up, as usual, revealing a tattoo on his left forearm, an earring was gleaming in his ear. His overall appearance seemed to say: "Yes, I know I'm pretty attractive, but I don't give a fuck about that." Even from such a distance, Hermione felt his heavy gaze. It seemed to burn right through her and it made clear that what had happened was still there, between him and her.

And suddenly her shaky rainbow world collapsed.

Those invisible walls that she erected with such difficulty collapsed overnight as a useless heap of stones right here, under the influence of their eye contact. Memories covered with a wave of inevitability made their way under the skin, sucked out all light that was in it just a minute ago. And darkness fell, which she was no longer able to disperse.

Hermione found herself in a cocoon of stunning pain that stung with memories of his lips, words, touches. Everything around seemed to be silent, and it seemed that all the noise of the fair, the leaping laughter of the wizards, the cheerful voices were somewhere in another dimension, but not here. And the longer she looked into his eyes, the more she realized that all her attempts to escape from reality, from what had happened, were in vain.

"You cannot change anything. It's impossible to change what has gone too far. No matter how hard you try to leave, you will go back to where it all started. It will always be in you and in him, how can you not understand? Nothing will help you."

Suddenly, the words of the gipsy took on a new meaning for Hermione.

And she got angry.

She realized that she wasn't ready to simply submit to fate, to fall under the weight of the mistakes made, not ready to hide forever and run away from painful memories, and certainly not ready to return to "where it all started". She's ready to fight, ready to get up and move on, and she didn't care if she succumbed to stunning madness for a moment. It was the first and last time. For the first and last time, do you hear, Malfoy?

Hermione threw her head back proudly with the smile melting on her face, and her gaze filled with such determination and ferocity that Draco must have felt it.

"I won't give up, Malfoy, and I don't care what you think about it," she seemed to say, mentally addressing him.

And he barely perceptible grinned, slightly raising an eyebrow and dropping his chin.

"Let's see, Granger," she read in his vicious gaze, so dark and dangerous that Hermione winced.

And at that moment, Ron lowered her to the floor, blocking the entire view. Suddenly all the sounds, voices, laughter, everything came back and deafened Hermione as if someone turned on the volume of a huge turntable. For some time, she stood stunned in place, and some people constantly approached her, spoke encouraging words, clapped on the shoulder. And only coming out of her stupor a minute later, she made her way through a small crowd of wizards, looking at the place where she had just seen Malfoy.

The lantern gloomily illuminated a small patch of land that was empty.

Draco realized that he was going mad.

This afternoon, when he saw another stupid letter with magnolia symbols when he opened it with a mixture of anger and disgust when he read what was written, he thought that someone was mocking him. The temptation to send everything to hell had never been greater than the moment when he furiously clutched in his fist a pitiful piece of paper that was once a neat sheet.

In the end, it's so easy, just take it and not come at the right time to the appointed place. And the whole problem will be solved: he will be instantly deported and he will never be able to appear at this fucking resort again. But what will happen when El finds out?! Oh, El will explode with rage, no doubt, but he will deal with her somehow, talk, although it may take him a lot of time and ingenuity. Draco mentally relished the thought of how immediately all the reasons for concern would be destroyed if he just got out of this hell, where he seemed to lose all his composure, all his ability to think reasonably and just stop fucking acting the way the Malfoys do.

"Never feel sorry for anyone, never betray your emotions, never make friends with those who aren't beneficial to you, never let pity in yourself. Pity is for weaklings, so never get involved with Mudbloods and blood traitors..."

Draco chuckled bitterly as he remembered the words Lucius had been repeating to him like a mantra since he was five.

I wonder what you would say, Lucius, if you found out that I broke most of your damn "never" just by being in this resort?! What would you do, father, upon learning that your son, from whom you so diligently tried to mould the best servant for your Lord and raise the real Malfoy, got confused with a Mudblood, allowed himself to desire her?!

And Draco almost wanted to wriggle in mad pain under the influence of "Crucio", wanted to feel how blood spurts from his body, how bones break with a characteristic crunch, how he slowly dies in hellish torments, bearing the punishment for disobeying, for betraying everything that he was taught for many years.

Just not to want her.

"Bloody whore Granger!" Malfoy spat out loud and violently kicked a chair that caught his feet, from which he flew to the opposite wall and broke with a crash.

Draco's gaze darkened with anger.

He finally got it. It was she who was to blame for everything, she provoked him, yes, she provoked all this bullshit! Fluttering very close to those stupid eyes, hair, lips, dressing in such a way that the dead would want her, as he while being so close to her that one could easily breathe in this sweet mud-blooded stench emanating from her skin.

She started it all herself, when on the very first day she passionately pressed against him, rubbed her fucking breasts against his body, and this was only the beginning of her actions leading to its destruction. And then, those looks, her fucking ability to constantly catch his eye, her movements in dance, which made him imagine what she was like in bed, her inviting open lips, her stinging tongue...

It was Granger's fault, from start to finish.

And with that thought, hell knows why his feet led him to that damn door.

"Let's go faster, signor, we have almost started," as soon as he entered inside, Maria smiled at him affably, pointing to the place where, in her opinion, he should have stood.

Yes, Draco realized that he had lost his mind the moment he realized that he was back in the ballroom and, following the instructions of the Italian woman, is now heading straight for Hermione Granger.

Hermione surreptitiously watched Malfoy as they practised tango.

The lesson had already been going on for about forty minutes, and only ten minutes ago she somehow managed to cope with the small tremors that beat her body from the feeling that he was very close, somewhere in half a meter from her. So far, they weren't required to pair up, so they easily as if by agreement, ignored each other.

Malfoy looked unperturbed and remained silent throughout the entire session, not glancing at her. Hermione, in turn, was mentally grateful to him for this, because she knew that if he just said something sharp if he just looked at her with a characteristic grin, she wouldn't stand it and... But as a matter of fact, she didn't know what would happen. Her nerves were stretched to the limit, tension pounded in her temples, beating the rhythms of tango, and the readiness to fight back at any moment didn't leave her from the second Malfoy entered the ballroom.

She doubted that he would come until the last moment, nevertheless, she mentally prepared herself for his presence by conducting a self-hypnosis session. Even before the lesson, she decided that she would act as if nothing had happened and, if possible, would ignore him.

So far, it has been possible.

Surprisingly, the tango dance was easy for her, and she very quickly memorized the chords that the teachers showed them. Twilight reigned around, the hall this time was lit only by a few candles in candelabra, which, however, gave enough light to see everything around. The atmosphere could be called almost intimate if there weren't so many dancing wizards. The teachers, Stefano and Maria, were dressed in red and black to match the style of the tango dance they taught.

"Well, you've mastered the basic moves, now let's work in pairs," Stefano said cheerfully, folding his palms in front of him. "First, let's do a little exercise on the interaction between partners, which at the same time, will improve the sharpness of your movements."

"So, stand opposite each other and look your partner in the eyes. You should feel unshakable eye contact, after that you can begin the exercise," Maria commanded, and the wizards obediently began to follow her instructions, dispersing to their places.

Hermione's heart sank. It was this moment that she feared most of all. It would seem that there is nothing wrong with standing in front of Malfoy and gazing into his eyes, but in reality, it was much worse than just dancing in pairs, while not looking at each other.

She stood in indecision for a while, mentally begging herself not to be nervous, but soon pulled herself together and bravely turned to face Draco. Surely, it looked ridiculous that Malfoy turned at the same time with her, so from the side they looked like two sentries, simultaneously entering the obligatory and, at the same time, burdensome post.

Their gazes collided, and Hermione gasped softly in surprise, instantly losing all her composure. Draco, on the other hand, was outwardly unfazed and looked down at her indifferently, as if nothing had happened.

"Hello, Granger."

He said this absolutely without emotion and crossed his arms over his chest as if indicating that this was the end of the conversation.

"Hi Malfoy," she said, throwing up her head bravely and looking firmly into his eyes.

This was the only thing that she could do now without much difficulty because she mentally rehearsed this moment more than once.

Draco didn't intend to look away while maintaining the indifference that she involuntarily envied. It was impossible to imagine that he felt anything other than indifference, while, looking at Hermione, one could easily say that she was at least uncomfortable.

She was too worked up to naturally portray indifference to what was happening. And if her gaze remained confident and calm, then the trembling in her hands, which she couldn't stop in any way, betrayed her with giblets, so Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring Malfoy's pose. She didn't know if he noticed this clumsy attempt to hide her excitement, but the corners of his lips twitched slightly.

They looked at each other without stopping, maybe even longer than the task required. Hermione tried to abstract herself from all thoughts and act as if nothing had happened. She wasn't going to lose in this visual duel, because if she looked away, it would mean that she remembers and that what happened to her is at least somewhat, but important.

Fortunately, it was surprisingly easy for her to lock all the memories of that ill-fated evening somewhere in the farthest corner of her memory, so things were, in general, not bad.

She just had to try to make Malfoy think that everything that happened to her was just an absurd episode in her bright, eventful life, in which, even without this nonsense, there was enough to think about.

"Pretty funny," Hermione thought grimly and frowned a little.

"Okay! Let's go further,'' Stefano continued, having looked around the room contentedly. "Since tango dance is based on contrasts, you must learn to emphasize accents with your body and head. Partners, we'll start the next exercise with you, listen carefully. You slowly begin to move your foot to the side, while maintaining eye contact with your partner, then transfer your body weight to the same foot, making a lunge step to the side, and clap your palms at the level of the partner's face. After that, return to the starting position and do the same in the other direction."

"The partners, in turn, remember that you should mirror the movements of the partner and immediately, together with the clap, transfer the weight to the leg that you took out, then sharply turn your head away from the partner, while slightly bending in the upper back," Maria continued to explain.

"One of the key tasks is to give the partner an impulse, under the influence of which he makes a further movement. In turn, the other partner's task is to instantly react to this impulse and, as if in continuation of the one's action, turn sharply away and slightly bend back,'' Stefano specified.

After that, the Italians demonstrated how to correctly do the exercise in both directions, and Hermione thought that, in any case, it's easier than just looking at each other, trying not to interrupt the "eye contact".

"So, you can start!" the Italian dancer proclaimed loudly, smiling encouragingly.

Hermione, enjoying the fact that she didn't have to look at Malfoy for at least five minutes while explaining the exercise by the teachers, now reluctantly turned to face him again after a short pause.

Draco, crossing his arms over his chest, looked at her expectantly, as if mentally asking: "How long will I wait until you deign to begin?"

"Okay, Malfoy, let's get started," Hermione said evenly, ignoring his gaze. She knew that they still had a hell of a lot of time side by side, and therefore, given Malfoy's relatively calm demeanour, she wasn't going to go into trouble herself and make a scene.

Hearing her words, Draco dropped his arms and straightened with an expression of indifference.

"Okay, Granger. On the count of three: one, two..."

He didn't finish and began to move.

Hermione looked into his eyes, fascinated, as she traced a line to the side with the toe of her shoe, parallel to the movement of Draco's foot, after which he suddenly clapped his palms an inch from her face, and she squealed in surprise and recoiled.

"Fuck, Granger!" Draco rolled his eyes, losing his usual composure. "If you're going to be scared, then nothing good will come of it!"

There was so much irritation and bile in his words that Hermione involuntarily flushed and for a second was taken aback by such an unexpected reaction from Malfoy. It was obvious that all this time, burning anger was seething inside Draco, which he skillfully hid until the last minute under a mask of indifference.

"What do you want, Malfoy, clapping your palms right in front of my nose?! Stefano did this exercise differently!" finally, she ardently objected, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Holy Merlin, what a pity that I'm not that nimble Italian twat who twists his ass better than his partner!" Malfoy raised his hands dramatically to the sky. "Although... No, not a pity, especially considering that you aren't the same Veela who dances with him. So get used to what is, Granger, or have you forgotten that you have to obey your partner?"

"If your partner is an idiot, then there is no point in obeying!" Hermione instantly flared up, saying goodbye to the last attempts to remain calm.

"So you're the dream partner, right, Granger?" Draco gave her a scornful look. "I still wonder how that German guy didn't become disabled, having danced with you practically the whole lesson!"

"Firstly, you will become disabled if you say even one more offensive word to me, and secondly, he was French!"

"I don't give a damn who he was but – thank Merlin – this unfortunate man came out of the hall healthy, perhaps, having slightly suffered mentally," Malfoy grinned unkindly and, suddenly changing in his face, took a step towards Hermione, coming almost close to her... "And be careful, Granger, if you don't want to regret your words later."

His gaze was instantly filled with something so dark that made Hermione stagger back. Their last conversation was instantly resurrected in her memory, which led to truly horrific consequences. Hands again trembled from the sensation of the closeness of his body, the opened memories fell on her with renewed vigour, and she, swallowing all her anger, desperately tried to pull herself together. Hermione wasn't stupid to understand – it was a bad idea to continue arguing with Malfoy now because his gaze was more eloquent than any words. Hatred seemed to ooze from him towards her, and Hermione, if she wanted to, would have counted a lot of reasons for this, but still this time there was something wrong. It felt like Draco hated her in some other way, hated her like he never did before. And that made it creepy.

"Let's just continue,'' Hermione finally said in a slightly shaky voice, trying to hold back the flow of words about to escape her tongue. Draco silently measured her with a look of contempt before stepping aside.

Hermione felt acute irritation and mentally asked Merlin for patience.

For the next five minutes, they practised the exercise given to them. Hermione still flinched slightly every time Malfoy clapped his hands loudly at her face but she tried to repay him with same kindness when it was her turn. Their movements were so sharp and fast that at times Hermione seemed to be on a fine line between practising an element of dance and simply killing each other. Inside her, everything was boiling, and judging by the tense face of Malfoy, he had similar feelings. And the longer the sound of their clapping carried through the hall, the more sharply the mutual hostility was felt, growing into real hatred.

A clap sounded very close, literally right in front of Hermione's nose.

She turned away sharply, leaning back.

It's amazing how quickly they both lost the ability to ignore each other, as soon as they received a common task and exchange a couple of pointed phrases. Clap. Malfoy didn't expect her to bring her palms closer to his face. His eyes no longer had that feigned indifference as at the beginning of the lesson, but there was so much anger in them that Hermione was seriously afraid that this time he would hit her.

Clap.

She barely had time to dodge and realized that she did it as sharply as it was required, intercepting Maria's approving gaze, and then looked devastatingly in the direction of Draco.

Clap.

Malfoy was beginning to infuriate that each time she brought her palms closer to his face while clapping so fiercely that his ears were likely to block.

Clap.

Hermione barely felt the fingertips of his left hand brush her cheek. And certainly, if not for her aggravated reaction, the sensations from this contact would have been much brighter.

Self-satisfaction flashed in Malfoy's eyes.

Clap.

And for a brief moment, when emotions overshadowed her mind so much that it was simply impossible to analyze her actions, Hermione felt painful satisfaction that her palm furiously touched Draco's cheek, leaving a red mark behind it. Malfoy's head jerked to the side from the slap, and then everything happened so quickly that it took Hermione a while to realize what had happened.

Draco turned to her, pressing his hand to his cheek, his eyes narrowing with anger, and the next second he already grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her hard to him.

Hermione stared in horror at his face, afraid to move. Her body stiffened with fear, her wrists ached from Malfoy's tenacious grip, and he only fiercely glared at her, breathing heavily.

"What was that Granger?" finally, he asked tartly, slowly bending over her face.

Draco's look, full of anger, the tone of his voice shivering, the force with which he squeezed her wrists, obviously intending to break her bones – all indicated that he was extremely pissed and any word Hermione could turn against her.

But that's not why she didn't answer. She simply couldn't utter a sound under the gun of his eyes narrowed with anger bubbling inside.

"Forgot how to speak?! Well, I'll say it again, if you didn't hear," Draco said slowly in a deliberately gentle tone and leaned closer to her face.

"What the fuck was that, Granger?"

Hermione sighed sharply and made several feeble attempts to free herself from Draco's tenacious grip, but froze again as she saw his face take on an even more dangerous expression. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't concentrate in any way from the horror that seized her and therefore simply gulped in air.

"Answer!" Draco snapped and shook her hard, causing Hermione to scream.

"I didn't want to! Malfoy... It hurts... Let me go! Please..." as if waking up, she began to speak quickly, the first thing that came into her head, simultaneously trying to escape.

"You hit me, bitch!" Draco raised his tone, tightening his grip on her wrists. Madness danced in his eyes. "Do you have any idea what you've done , Mudblood?!"

"I didn't mean it, Malfoy, I swear!" Hermione exclaimed hotly, curled up in pain. "The hand slipped, it's just an accident..."

""An accident"?!" Draco shook her again. "Do you even know what you're talking about, you fucking fool?!"

Hermione sobbed in pain, and at the same time, anger awoke in her, dulling all other feelings.

"Listen, Malfoy, I understand you and your anger, but that doesn't give you the right to break my wrists, so if you don't let me go right now, then…" she began in a trembling voice and stopped when she saw an evil grin distorting his mouth.

"What, Granger? Will you complain to Potter or the Weasleys?!" Hermione was about to reply when, to her relief, Maria suddenly appeared next to them and stared at them indignantly.

"Signor, what are you doing?! This exercise doesn't involve that close contact! Release your partner immediately!" she commanded, frowning.

"Signorina?" Draco arched an eyebrow in mock surprise, still holding Hermione tightly. "Does this exercise involve close contact of the partner's hand with the partner's cheek, in other words, a "slap in the face"?!"

Hermione, all this time pleading looking at Maria, sharply turned her head in the direction of Malfoy and indignantly stared at him.

"I said it was an accident!"

"Damn it, Granger! Apparently, you decided that you could get away with it a second time, but you forgot that we aren't schoolchildren for a long time and now I can make you answer for your actions for real," Draco smiled unkindly and squeezed her wrists even tighter.

"Oh, Malfoy, don't play holy innocence! You deserve that slap in the face in your third year! As for today, firstly, it was an accident, and secondly, you also were one step away from hitting me!" Hermione raised her voice, glaring at Draco.

"Only this is the thing, Granger, we were both on the verge, but it was you who dared to cross this line!"

"Wait, Malfoy, are you going to tell me now about who dared to cross the line? Do you want to discuss this?!"

These words flew out against her will. Hermione stopped short and was horrified to see Draco's expression change. Anger, rage – all those feelings that raged in him just a few seconds ago, seemed to have disappeared, leaving behind a frighteningly dark void.

That's it, the end of the scene. All these mutual attempts to preserve the appearance that nothing had happened to the devil flew, their mutual unspoken agreement not to remember that evening has sunk into oblivion. With one rash phrase, she simply destroyed the last chance to forget what had happened.

Hermione shuddered with fear as Draco slowly unclenched his fingers and let go of her wrists. She instantly recoiled from him, as if afraid of a blow, but Malfoy was silent and strangely looked at her with an incomprehensible expression on his face.

"Finally, you both have calmed down! I couldn't even insert a word!" interrupting the awkward pause, Maria chirped, looking at them with displeasure. "Well, nothing, we will lead your emotions in the right direction..."

The Italian was still talking for a long time, but neither Hermione nor Draco listened to her. They silently looked at each other, equally wary, but at the same time experiencing completely different feelings.

Hermione was scared. She had no idea what would happen next when Mary departed from them, and they would again be left to themselves. What will Malfoy's reaction be? What will he tell her? And, most importantly, what will she tell him?!

These questions were discouraging and frightening, and Hermione couldn't find an answer to them. She couldn't even understand how Malfoy was feeling now. He looked at her strangely, narrowing his eyes slightly. The corners of his lips were slightly raised as if he was about to smile, but his gaze remained cold, with incomprehensible shades of various emotions wandering in him.

"… I will now learn with you a bunch of dance moves, and don't even try to make a scene again!"

Mary's words came from somewhere far away. Hermione stared at her blankly. What is she talking about?..

"Yes, yes! And don't look at me like that! All those present are obliged to learn today a combination of steps chosen by the teachers individually for each dance pair! In your case, it will be tango! Undoubtedly tango!"

Malfoy was the first to react, breaking the stringy eye contact between him and Hermione.

"Wait, are we going to learn the dance now?!" he asked slowly, glumly turning to the Italian teacher.

Hermione shuddered at the tone of his voice.

"Yes, sir, that's right! And then at the end of the class, each pair will dance what they have learned, and we will select exactly eight couples to participate in the show!"

Hermione didn't like all of this, and so, for a moment forgetting about her fiasco in an attempt to preserve the appearance that nothing had happened between her and Malfoy, she decided to express her opinion.

"Well, I don't! I don't agree to dance in front of everyone."

Maria looked at her with barely concealed irritation.

"Signorina, I understand your concern, but unfortunately this is an obligatory part of our class, so you have to dance whether you like it or not. And I would advise you to start learning dance right now because we only have forty minutes for that."

Hermione involuntarily glanced at Malfoy and then hastily turned away to see his face with the same strange expression. He looked directly at her, not taking his eyes off so that Hermione felt that sticky gaze on her with every part of her body. Everything inside her twisted.

"Okay, let's get started right now," she said nervously and hastily, trying to calm the sudden tremors in her hands.

Yes, Hermione was afraid to speak in public, but it was even more terrifying to be alone with Malfoy, especially when she didn't know what was on his mind, so she chose the lesser of two evils. In any case, Maria will always be present next to them, which will exclude the possibility of a showdown. And there – who knows! Maybe Malfoy will forget about her carelessly flying out words, and everything will be okay. Maybe he didn't understand the meaning of her words at all. It is foolish, of course, to hope so, but still...

Hermione cheered herself up as best she could during all those forty minutes during which they practised tango with Maria. She learned to dance, automatically repeating the movements of the Italian woman , but didn't delve into the meaning of her words at all. Hermione simply couldn't concentrate, because for forty minutes Malfoy had been burning her with a look, the nature of which she still couldn't figure out.

What is it? Hatred, bitterness, irony, surprise, contempt, lust, disgust? How many different shades of feelings and emotions could be read in his gaze, and yet the very essence was not clear.

Malfoy was silent throughout the entire lesson, ideally doing what Maria demanded of him, and watched, burned, killed with his glance. Hermione was nervous, angry, mentally begging him not to do this, because she was going crazy. She desperately wanted to know what he was thinking at that moment when he looked at her like that. A couple of times the question was ready to escape from her lips, but she stopped herself in time. And luckily for her, Malfoy didn't ask any questions either.

For now, anyway.

"I think we can end it here," Maria said contentedly, taking a couple of steps back and appraisingly examining Draco and Hermione, frozen in a dance pose. "An excellent ending for your performance! Now I can leave you with peace of mind for a while, it's time to announce the end of the training process ..."

"No!"

Hermione exclaimed this so loudly and desperately that several pairs dancing nearby looked at her in bewilderment.

"Excuse me, signorina?.." Maria raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Hermione instantly felt like a fool and blushed slightly.

"I just wanted to say that this posing is quite uncomfortable, I'm afraid of losing my balance," she awkwardly began to make excuses, while telling almost the truth.

It wasn't very comfortable to bend in the back while she, having thrown her leg over Malfoy's knee, practically stretched out in the splits, was not very comfortable, but the reason for her "no" was that more than anything she didn't want to stay with him alone.

Maria looked at her incredulously, then laughed.

"Signorina, you invent problems out of the air! Ogni principio è duro!** You will be alright."

Before Hermione had time to argue, the Italian female vanished into the crowd.

Her hands trembled so that she had to clasp them behind her back.

That's all. Now they are left to themselves, and most likely she will have to answer for her words.

"Granger."

She hadn't expected the reckoning to come so soon, and she certainly hadn't expected Malfoy's voice to sound... friendly?

She must have heard it. What the hell was friendliness when he practically incinerated, destroyed her with a glance?!

Hermione warily turned to face Draco, expecting any reaction, but not the calmness and secular smile with which Malfoy met her gaze.

"What?.."

An unfinished quiet question that flew out of her mouth hung between them. Hermione, like a frightened animal, expected at any moment a blow, reprisal, punishment, and all that promised Malfoy's behaviour recently.

But he just tilted his head to the side and grinned.

"I just wanted to ask if you learned the dance line or should we repeat it? I don't want to look like a jerk just because my partner forgot the dance, lost her balance or did something else unsightly."

A grin flashed in his eyes, and Hermione was completely confused. She didn't even have the strength to get angry with Malfoy. He was acting too strange. And she could swear that there was something sinister behind this whole mask of carelessness, something that made everything inside her shrink and her hands were shaking.

"I don't need a rehearsal ," Hermione snapped shortly and crossed her arms over her chest, her chin raised proudly.

Imitation of courage was nothing new to her.

"Fine," Draco grinned and, looking at Hermione oddly, turned away from her.

At that moment, the music that carried through the hall became a little louder, and the eyes of the wizards riveted Stefano and Maria, who released several golden sparks from their wands to attract the attention of those present.

"So! With the help of our assistants, each pair learned a dance pattern, so now we can safely proceed to the most interesting part of our today's lesson! First, I'll ask everyone to line up near the wall," Stefano announced loudly.

The wizards, hesitating, moved to take comfortable, in their opinion, places, and Hermione followed them. She couldn't see if Malfoy was following her, but preferred to take a seat on the edge, closer to the corner. Next to her stood a girl she knew, who nervously shifted from foot to foot, and Hermione involuntarily felt sympathy for her, because she was really excitedly nervous herself.

"I have an enchanting bouquet of white magnolias in which all the flowers are numbered. Therefore, I invite each couple to come up to me and take the flower they like, thanks to which you will find out the sequence of your dance!"

Maria demonstrated to everyone a bouquet of white magnolias that suddenly appeared in her hands, the flowers of which sparkled with a ghostly light and were so beautiful that admiring sighs and exclamations instantly spread throughout the hall.

Hermione looked down at her wrist, which was adorned with her magnolia, so similar to those in Maria's hands, and yet this flower was even more beautiful. As if sensing the gaze of the hostess, the magnolia instantly sparkled brighter and slightly opened its petals.

Hermione admired her for a while, then threw her head up and saw the back of Draco's head, which was rapidly moving away from her. Maria was only five meters away when Hermione was finally able to catch up with him.

"Malfoy, why did you go for a flower without me?! We must draw a number together!" adjusting to his step, Hermione asked indignantly.

"Granger, you were too busy looking at your trinket while it was our turn! I chose not to distract you from such an important occupation," without even looking at her, Draco threw down with his secular smile, which had already begun to annoy her.

He stopped abruptly in front of Maria, and Hermione, throwing a displeased glance at him, followed suit.

"Well, now it's your turn!" the Italian woman held out a bouquet of magnolias, and Hermione and Draco reached for the same flower at the same time. Their brushes touched, from which Hermione seemed to be showered with a weak shock. She jerked her hand back, allowing Malfoy to retrieve the flower.

"Number seven," he stated calmly, after which, nodding to Maria, he quickly turned around and walked away.

Hermione rolled her eyes and followed him, displeased to find that Draco had no intention of shifting from foot to foot in the far corner.

Moreover, he confidently headed to the very centre, straight to the blond girl with whom he danced in the last lesson. Assessing the whole situation and suppressing a keen desire to kick Malfoy, Hermione decided that she could well return to the place she had originally chosen and had already moved there, as Stefano blocked her path. He smiled and nodded his head towards Draco.

"Signorina, you must wait your turn with your partner," he stated calmly, and Hermione, cursing to herself, reluctantly walked towards Malfoy. She stood a couple of meters away from him, but he was too carried away by the conversation with the blondie and therefore hardly noticed this, which didn't upset her too much.

The samba melody started playing and the first participants of the dance selection cautiously stepped onto the floor. It was obvious that they were pretty worried, which made Hermione herself even more nervous. She suddenly realized with horror that all the movements that she learned with Malfoy were too frank and suggested close contact with him, and given the fact that dozens of evaluating eyes would be watching her, then the performance could most likely become the biggest nightmare in her life.

Hermione felt sudden nausea of excitement. She had experienced something similar when she danced with Victor in her fourth year, but still, now her partner was Malfoy, which immediately made the situation worse.

Looking sideways at him, Hermione felt acute irritation from the picture she saw. The blonde girl was emotionally telling Draco something, not forgetting, at the same time, to be flirty and stupidly playful , while he listened to her with interest and occasionally laughed. He suddenly glanced at Hermione and grinned. She hastily turned away.

She felt disgusted. Hermione tried to distract herself, concentrating on the wizards dancing on the floor. It seems that it was already the third couple, and they danced pretty well. The teachers chose the cha-cha-cha dance for them, which the students performed very confidently. Hermione immediately noted to herself that, most likely, these guys will be the one of the eight couples to participate in a dance show.

After them there was a waltz and a paso doble performed very worthily. Hermione got nervous when she saw the next couple dancing the rumba almost as well as Stefano and Maria. Her and Malfoy's performance was after the next couple, and she felt a wild desire to run away from this place. Excitement with every second enveloped her more and more, and she was almost sure that they were unlikely to dance as flawlessly as all these wizards before them.

Still, the dance of the last couple distracted her from unpleasant thoughts.

Hermione, fascinated, watched the rumba performed by a pleasant short girl of about twenty-five and a stately Frenchman, whom she recognized as André's beloved one when she suddenly heard the words:

"I'm ready to discuss it now, Granger."

She flinched and turned sharply, almost crashing into Malfoy. He looked at her with that strange look, as when they were studying dance with Maria.

Hermione took a step back and stared at him warily.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

"That you're a real whore," he spat out and looked at her contemptuously.

Hermione was taken aback for a while by surprise, after which her face contorted with anger and indignation.

"How dare you, bastard!"

"It's all your fault, Granger. From start to finish. Only yours."

His tone of voice was icy, but his gaze raged with a blaze of madness.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy," Hermione said in a trembling voice, still staring at him in shock.

"You don't know? Well, I'll remind you," Draco smiled dangerously. "I mean the very moment when we almost fucked each other."

He said it as casually as if they were talking about Quidditch, and Hermione sighed in amazement.

"You… you…" she couldn't find the words and just shook her head.

"What, Granger?I'm voicing an inconvenient truth?"

Hermione was amazed at how easy Malfoy could talk about... About this.

"You're insane," she finally managed.

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow mockingly.

At that moment, the music died down in the hall, and applause was heard.

"So, couple number seven is invited to the parquet!" Maria proclaimed loudly, and Hermione perked up. What? Is it their turn?!

She looked to the centre of the hall and saw the sixth pair of wizards, who, having finished dancing, walked to their place.

"The conversation isn't over, Granger, but now it's our turn," Malfoy's cold voice came to her, and she turned to see his hand, which he offered her to dance.

She was still amazed at his words, which came as a complete surprise. Hermione imagined their dialogue in every way, but so that... Suddenly, she felt anger brewing in her soul. How dare the bastard insult her? How dare he blame her for everything?! It is her fault no less than his own!

With these thoughts, casting an angry glance at Malfoy, she took his hand and squeezed his fingers tightly, putting all her anger into this action. Draco grinned and tugged at it sharply, nearly stumbling Hermione.

The first chords of passionate tango sounded. Coming to the centre of the hall, Hermione and Draco looked at each other with hatred for the last time, after which they violently opened their hands and parted on different sides.

Everything inside Hermione was boiling. At the moment, she already didn't give a damn about the fact that dozens of pairs of eyes were looking at her, she just wanted to throw out the emotions that she was experiencing.

After taking a couple of steps, Hermione and Draco stopped abruptly, then turned around and quickly headed towards each other. After exchanging angry glances, they began to circle in tango steps without interrupting eye contact.

"You're a cowardly bastard, Malfoy," Hermione hissed through clenched teeth. "In that situation, you're guilty, at least, no less than me, admit it!"

"I see no reason to admit what is a worthless lie," he objected, narrowing his eyes.

"Wait, do you consider yourself a saint?!" Everything inside Hermione began to bubble. "Then I'll remind you, you damn schizophrenic, that it was you who pushed me against the wall and started harassing me!"

Malfoy laughed unkindly.

"Harassing?! Granger, you seem to have forgotten the way you wriggled beneath me, wanting me to fuck you as soon as possible?"

With these words, Draco pulled her sharply to his waist, and Hermione, placing one hand on his shoulder and placing the other in Malfoy's palm, lunged to the side. When she returned to her previous position, her eyes threw lightning.

"You're just a sick pervert, Malfoy," she spat, starting to walk with him. "I wriggled from the fact that I wanted to quickly break out of your nightmare embrace."

"Yes, Granger," Draco agreed good-naturedly, and then pushed Hermione away from him sharply, which nearly knocked her off balance. "And your panties got wet too from the fact that you wanted to break free."

Hermione nearly howled in humiliation and anger. She turned away sharply, then, taking a few steps away from Malfoy, felt his hands on her wrists.

"Don't lie to yourself, Granger, just admit that you wanted me," he whispered in her ear, and Hermione's body was instantly goosebumped. Draco's palms slipped onto her thighs, and she hated herself for the fact that at that moment, as he slowly stroked his hands over her body, moving upward, desire awoke in her again.

Hermione turned sharply to Draco, throwing his arms off her.

She was almost shaking with anger.

"Okay, Malfoy, if this makes it easier for you, I will say that maybe for a split second, for the smallest part of it, I experienced something similar to the excitement, but only from the fact that you shamelessly pawed at my most private parts!" she blurted out furiously, striding straight at him. "But believe me, I would never want to repeat it! I would rather die than let you in again!"

She raised her hand for a slap in the face, hoping that Malfoy would forget about this element of the dance, and she, with a clear conscience, would hit him again.

"You're lying," intercepting her hand, Draco pulled Hermione to him. "You're already doing it."

With these words, Malfoy lunged to the side, forcing Hermione to bend in the back, and immediately returned her to her place, passionately hugging her to him.

"Dancing doesn't count, dumbass," she said, squeezing his hand so violently that his knuckles snapped. "And if that's what crap, what about you Malfoy? How does it feel to want a Mudblood that you hated all your life and didn't consider as a person?"

Hermione knew she was going to hurt him. Draco's eyes instantly darkened, and he violently squeezed the skin on her back, still moving to the beat of the music.

"Unlike you, Granger, I admit this shameful fact of my biography. And trust me, I would do anything to stop this shit."

At that moment, Malfoy put his hand on her shin, forcing Hermione to throw her leg over his thigh. He tightly hugged the girl to him and, tearing her off the floor, whirled in the air.

A passionate, bright tango melody, carrying in itself a whirlwind of the most diverse feelings and accompanied by emotional vocals, was carried through the hall. Hermione was once again given goosebumps when she realized how accurately the musical accompaniment matches their dance and reflects the feelings that seemed to be felt with the hands between them: anger, passion, despair, desire, contempt, lust and a lot of rage with which they tried to destroy each other.

Malfoy's last words were still playing in her head. So he admits that something is going on between them? Isn't this the phantom of her sick imagination?!

Suddenly Hermione felt Draco slam her into a pillar near the centre of the room. In a surprise, she screamed and felt a dull pain in the back of her head.

"Are you completely crazy, bastard?!" she spat through the pain, staring furiously at Draco, and took her leg off his hip.

"Sorry, Granger, it happened by accident," Malfoy said gloatingly without a trace of remorse, taking a couple of steps back. "But I propose to return to our main topic and bring it to its logical conclusion."

"I'm all ears," Hermione said sarcastically and, making several turns in the direction of Draco, stepped on his foot with her heel. "Oh, sorry, it happened by accident."

For a few seconds, they froze, breathing heavily and staring at each other with hatred, after which they continued to dance.

"You know very well Granger how it could have ended that evening," Draco began coldly and, wrapping one arm around her waist, sharply turned Hermione back to him.

She gasped softly at the sensation of his closeness and once again felt a sharp attack of disgust for herself from the fact that her body instantly responded to his touch.

Draco slowly began to lead his hand from her belly to her neck, demandingly sliding his fingers along her ribs and chest. Hermione's breathing was hammered, a sharp wave of excitement rose in the lower abdomen, and tears came to her eyes from the realization.

"I would give everything in the world, to never experience this," she said firmly, gathering all her willpower into a fist, and, following Draco's movements, slowly walked forward.

"Well, Granger, if you don't want this to happen again..." Malfoy began, gently holding Hermione by the neck with one hand and stepping forward.

"Of course I don't want to!" she exclaimed with feeling.

"If you don't want it," Draco continued, tightening his grip slightly. "Then stop provoking me."

He spat out the last words with mad hatred and squeezed her neck so hard that Hermione screamed.

She turned sharply to face him and pushed him away as hard as she could. Malfoy barely managed to keep from falling, then glared at her with vicious eyes and froze in a tense pose.

Hermione, taking a few steps, came close to him, then, dodging Draco's hands, walked around him.

" Provoke you?!" with dislike peering into his face, she threw her arms around his neck and began to swing her hips to the beat of the music. "I wonder how?"

Draco put his hands on her waist and leaned slightly towards her face.

"Don't be a fool, Granger! All your cuddles, tight dresses, sexy dance moves..."

"Wait Malfoy, are you serious now? This is a joke?" Hermione raised her eyebrows in bewilderment, pausing for a second.

Draco grinned.

"You started it on the very first day when you rubbed against me in a dance, like a horny animal."

Hermione stared at him, dumbfounded. She even forgot what to do the next moment after hearing his words.

"You're disgusting, Malfoy. Your sick fantasies make you gibberish."

But Draco didn't seem to hear her. He grabbed her with his right hand around the waist, with his left raised her right hand. And with starting to dance the basic move of tango, he continued:

"And then that dance in the club, where you weren't particularly shy in your body movements and honestly I don't think this was an innocent invitation for a tea party, and the way you were writing out eights with your ass at the level of my groin showed me everything I needed to know."

Hermione, unexpectedly for herself, blushed.

No, it can't be true. Malfoy speaks nonsense only to piss her off.

And yet, a treacherous question was spinning in her head: did she really behave like that?!

The answer that instantly came to her mind was far from comforting.

She had no choice but to angrily blurt out:

"Stop it."

Malfoy glanced at her with a grin.

"What, Granger, is it unbearable to hear the truth again? I understand that this behaviour is not at all consistent with your reputation as the most pure and virgin gold student in Gryffindor."

Hermione, breathing heavily, was furiously silent. She was automatically making various "steps" with her feet and fixed her eyes on Malfoy.

"And, of course, to complete the picture, you need to remember the very evening on which you appeared in such a dress that even a Dementor would want to fuck you! But that's not even the point. Do you remember how much you pissed me off then?"

Hermione was still silent, her teeth clenched tightly.

"I think you remember. So it's no surprise that I pushed you against the wall. And then... I saw this look."

Draco paused and smiled oddly, tilting his head slightly to one side.

"That's what provoked me. You know, Granger, there's no one in the world more tempting than a Gryffindor gold star with the look of a whore."

Madness danced in Malfoy's eyes, and Hermione could hardly restrain herself from giving him a savoury slap in the face. Instead, she brushed her nails across his arm with all her strength, leaving red marks behind her, and pushed him away from her.

She was shaking with rage. She felt that she was one step away from simply blowing everything around to hell.

"I hate you. Don't you dare to touch me one more time, you bastard."

Her voice trembled slightly, but the words sounded so contemptuously cold that Hermione was surprised at herself.

"You don't have to worry about that, Granger, this was the first and last time. You are disgusting," Draco spat with hatred, taking a couple of steps towards her.

"I sincerely hope this won't happen again, Malfoy. Otherwise, I'll just kill you."

Hermione had never experienced such overwhelming hatred, and she suspected that Malfoy felt the same way.

The last chords of tango sounded, and she, making a few turns in the direction of Draco and finding herself facing him, threw her leg over him. After that, he lunged to the side, and, practically stretching out in a split, Hermione abruptly leaned back, putting the final point.

The music ended, and for a couple of seconds, a deafening silence reigned in the hall. And only when a storm of applause and enthusiastic shouts fell on Hermione, she realized that she and Malfoy had just... Danced the tango.

Hermione stepped out of the pose and stared at Draco, dumbfounded. He looked puzzled. He was also stunned by the reaction that followed after their performance.

Hermione turned her gaze to those present, enthusiastically applauding them, and once again tried to realize that she had just performed the tango in front of dozens of wizards.

From the understanding that came, she brought her hand to her mouth.

Holy Merlin. So everyone saw their fight with Malfoy? What if they... Heard?

Horror swept over Hermione.

"Bravo, bravo to the seventh pair! To be honest, I have never seen such a passionate and dangerous tango! It was a masterpiece!" Stefano proclaimed loudly, clapping his hands heartily.

"Masterpiece?!" cringing, began Malfoy, staring at the Italian man in disbelief. "Yes, we almost killed each other! I think this dance was another proof that it is simply prohibited for us to be around for more than two minutes, let alone to dance!"

"Oh no, signor, you're wrong," Stefano shook his head, smiling ironically. "With the emotions and abilities of your couple, that would be just an unforgivable mistake! Therefore, I can say with confidence that we have identified the first couple to participate in the dance show!"

Everyone in the audience applauded, while Hermione's face contorted with horror and she felt uncomfortable.

She didn't remember how she left the hall and quickly walked somewhere. Thoughts were confused, the head was splitting, and the body seemed to have lost all ability to feel and experience emotions.

Hermione only felt a little relieved when she touched her bare feet to the soft sandy blanket that had spread out on the little island of tranquillity she had found at the very beginning of her vacation.

As before, there was no one on the beach, and Hermione was sure that only here she would be able to regain the harmony lost somewhere in the rhythms of tango.

* Mille grazie – (it.) Thank you very much

** Ogni principio è duro! – (it.) Any beginning is difficult!