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.

11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Soundtrack – Chris Holburn «Assasin's Tango»

08.15.2002

"You can deftly deceive others, spin a web of lies and intrigue. Sometimes it will be absolutely vital for you. But promise me, Draco, that you will always be honest with yourself. Only by recognizing the truth will you preserve the power that is within you and that is not in your father. The power that was passed down to you from me with the blood of the Blacks."

I remember those words of Narcissa's as clearly as if she had said it yesterday. I didn't take them seriously at the time. I was fourteen, and the only person I listened to at the time was my father. Mother's advice seemed odd and eccentric, though mostly because Lucius thought so.

Yes, at the age of fourteen, my father was still my role model, the shitty ideal I was striving for. But as time went on, I started to notice the stupidity in my father's words and actions, and on the other hand, the wisdom and insight of my mother.

Her advice, which I remembered so incongruously as I sat at the table with the Dark Lord, greatly helped me during the war years. I have learned how to lie to others, but have forgotten how to lie to myself.

That's why, now, feeling disgust and trembling in my knees, having blood on my fists from beating, I admit that I hate her. And yet, as lousy as it is to admit it, I want her more than anyone else.

This whole situation with Granger, this damn dancing, the fucking touching, it all leads to one thing: destruction.

Sometimes I think it would be easier just to satisfy my desire, to sleep with her, to use her, and then everything will pass, but then I realize that even this won't help. That there's something else here, something that I can't figure out.

Not yet.

I have no fucking idea why I pushed her against the wall then. I don't know what made me touch her, feel her, drive her crazy. What kind of unknown force was controlling me? What the hell?..

At first I thought it was Granger's behaviour. That she was provoking me, challenging me to desire her. But now, as I try to be disgustingly honest with myself, I realize that this is still not enough reason for the madness that begins to happen to me as soon as I touch her.

Now I understand that this is not enough.

And no, it can't go on like this any longer.

Never again, not one fucking time, no matter how much I wanted to.

I just have to try, just pull myself together. After all, there were never any intractable problems for me.

I can do this.

I can.

Can I?..

"I have a problem. More than one, actually."

Hermione decided to start the conversation without any preliminaries as soon as she flew into Ginny's bungalow. She barely made it to ten in the morning to visit her friend with a clear conscience.

"Holy Merlin, what's wrong? What is it?" she asked worriedly, closing the door behind Hermione. "You look disgusting."

Ginny stared at her intently and frowned, shaking her head slightly as if to confirm her words.

"If you'd have one hour of sleep, you wouldn't have looked any better," Hermione said nervously, and plopped down on the sofa, covering her face with her hands.

Her head was pounding madly. It was as if someone tucked a thousand needles into her and was now furiously trying to pry her brain open.

"Tell me."

Ginny had carefully perched on the edge of the sofa beside her and was now looking at her with concern.

Hermione could feel her gaze, but she didn't dare look up yet. There were too many thoughts in her head, too many strange and incomprehensible things happening to her at this resort, and all this needed to be told.

Where to start?

If only she knew.

As if sensing Hermione's confusion, Ginny gently placed a hand on her back.

"Let's go for a walk. I think it will be easier this way."

There was so much warmth and concern in her voice that Hermione felt a wave of relief wash over her. Somehow, it seemed that Ginny would understand, that she would help her sort out all the things that had been bothering her for the past few days.

"What about Harry?" Hermione finally raised her head and looked around worriedly. "Is he here? I completely forgot about him."

"Don't worry, he's gone to the Quidditch field with Ron. We agreed to meet at lunchtime," Ginny said, and got up from the couch. "Shall we go?"

Hermione only nodded weakly in agreement.

They went out into the street and headed towards the beach, towards the embankment. They were both silent for a moment: Hermione tried to decide where to start, and Ginny didn't rush her and waited patiently for her friend to collect her thoughts.

They were only thirty feet from the embankment when Hermione finally said:

"I have strange dreams."

Ginny gave her a startled look.

"What dreams?"

"Different. But I have one dream all the time, almost every night, and it haunts me."

"What kind of dream is that?" Ginny asked warily, as if she knew she wouldn't like the answer.

Hermione sighed.

"I dream that I'm walking along the Hogwarts hall at night, and I feel really sad, no, I'd say I'm hurt, you know? I couldn't even imagine that I could experience heartache in a dream."

She shivered, remembering her feelings.

Ginny was silent for a moment, then asked softly:

"What's next?"

"And then I see the door and I know that I need to open it and go inside, but I don't dare to do it for a while, I want to run away. But then I open it and – " Hermione stopped in mid-sentence, "– and I see a man."

She finished her sentence and looked at her friend with a resigned expression.

Ginny seemed rooted to the ground. It was hard to tell what she was thinking, but Hermione knew intuitively that she was ill at ease.

Suddenly, the younger Weasley frowned slightly and turned her head to the side. But before she did it, Hermione caught something strange in the very depths of her eyes. Something like fear.

Somewhat puzzled, Hermione decided to continue, watching Ginny's reaction.

"I didn't see it right away, at first it was just a dark silhouette, but tonight I finally managed to make out his face."

And again there was silence.

Hermione took a deep breath and said softly:

"It was Malfoy, Ginny."

After her words, she looked sharply at Hermione. Her eyes widened, and her body seemed to go numb.

"Malfoy?" she asked slowly, as if in disbelief.

"I don't know what the hell, but yes, I see him in my dreams, Ginny! Every night."

Hermione felt a wave of despair wash over her. She didn't understand why this was happening, why she was seeing Draco in her dreams, the person whom she least wanted to see in real life, not that in night visions.

And almost immediately, a malicious voice starts talking in her head: "Is this really true? Don't you like what you do in your dreams?"

The thought made Hermione feel ashamed and angry at herself, causing her cheeks to glow with heat.

"I think I'm going crazy, Ginny."

There were the cheers of children, the merry chatter of wizards, and a pleasant samba tune playing not far away, but the two of them weren't in the mood for fun.

"How long ago did it start?" The younger Weasley finally asked in a low voice, frowning at Hermione.

"Since June of this year. Or rather, since June of this year, I began to have the same dream. It always started the same way, but each time I saw it continue, and eventually I was able to see... his face. Tonight."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" After a five-second pause, Ginny's face began to take on a dangerous expression.

"I wanted to tell you, but I thought it could wait. And only tonight I realized that there was no point in waiting any longer."

Hermione looked remorsefully at her friend, and Ginny, who had been glaring at her indignantly for a while, finally sighed and looked away.

"I don't like this," she muttered. "You said it wasn't the only dream, didn't you? What happened in the others?"

Hermione hesitated, unable to find the words. She wished she hadn't told Ginny about the other dreams, because they were all real.… Blatantly wrong? Creepy to shiver? Shamelessly outspoken?

Oh, Merlin, no, she can't talk about it. No, she can't.

Ginny arched a questioning brow at the lack of an answer. She stared unblinkingly at Hermione's face for a moment, as if trying to collect information, before understanding flooded her and she put her hands to her mouth in horror.

"Holy Merlin, Hermione! Do you dream that you and Malfoy…" Ginny shook her head, unable to finish the sentence.

Hermione blushed even more, already burning with shame.

"Please, don't say another word! You just can't imagine how sick I am of these dreams. And the worst part is that there's nothing I can do about it."

Ginny shook her head in shock for a moment, then exhaled loudly.

"Okay, let's try to figure it out," she began intently, putting her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "You had that strange dream before we arrived in the resort, but you didn't see Malfoy in it, did you?"

"No, I didn't. The dream seemed to end just as I was about to open the door of the room," Hermione confirmed, slowly beginning to gather her thoughts.

"And other dreams… Did you start dreaming about it only at this resort?" Ginny continued, grimacing.

"Yes, after we started dancing together."

"And you only saw Malfoy's face in that recurring dream last night, right?" her friend leaned closer to her.

"That's right," Hermione answered absently. "Wait, what are you getting at?"

"The point is," Ginny said, slapping her on the shoulders and removing her hands, "that dancing classes , my dear, subconsciously turn everything into a hm..smut dreams for you. And if you consider that you have to dance with Malfoy, then…"

Ginny raised her eyebrows significantly and smirked slightly.

"So you don't think there's anything strange about it?" Hermione asked carefully, looking at her friend suspiciously.

"Of course not! If you knew what a dream I had after my dancing at the ball with Neville, then I think you would have no doubts," Ginny stretched her lips in an ironic grin. "And I was just an innocent third-year student, not to mention that you are a mature, sexually active woman who hadn't been with a man for more than six months!"

"Ginny!" Hermione called out indignantly.

"What Ginny? I'm just stating a fact! You're already a young woman, Hermione, so it's no surprise that your unrepentant sexual energy release itself in your dreams."

For a while, Hermione was silent, experiencing conflicting emotions.

"Okay, maybe you're right…" she finally agreed reluctantly. "But what about the dream that I see every night? Don't you think that's weird? It bothers me insanely."

"I bother about your sexual dissatisfaction, that you have to contemplate in a dream in the form of a playboy ferret! In a figurative sense of the word, of course," Ginny grinned.

"You didn't have to specify it," Hermione said reproachfully.

"So I see only one way out of the situation," Ginny continued, ignoring her words, her eyes flashing merrily. "You need to make this dreams become true."

"Sleep with Malfoy?" Hermione blurted out the first thing that came to mind in horror.

"No, honey, just to have sex with someone," Ginny corrected, then rolled her eyes in mock surprise. "If you want to, though…"

"No," said Hermione, more nervously than she should have. "Of course not, what a crazy idea..."

Ginny's expression changed, and Hermione realized that she had gone too far.

Oh, shit.

"Hermione… You really don't want to do this, do you?" Ginny began warily with a slight smile on her face.

"Of course I don't! What a silly question."

That incredulous look again. Hermione could have sworn that Ginny didn't believe her, and if she had to admit it to herself, she wouldn't have believed it either.

Suddenly, as if to save her, the two familiar heads of Ron and Harry appeared in the distance. Ginny was still looking at her suspiciously, while Hermione waved frantically to her friends. The guys, seeing her, smiled happily and waved back.

As if remembering something important, Hermione turned abruptly to Ginny.

"Not a word to Harry or Ron. You know they won't understand," Hermione said seriously, looking into her eyes.

She shook her head without a trace of a smile on her face, and still had the same look that Hermione didn't like for some reason.

"Sure. Just between you and me."

Ginny paused for a moment, then asked thoughtfully:

"You seem to have said that you have more than one problem?"

Hermione glanced quickly at the boys, who were already very close.

"Yes, but it's a long story. I'll tell you another time."

As soon as she finished, Ron's cheerful voice burst in.

"Hey, where are you going without us?"

"We're just walking, Ronald," Ginny said, putting on a nonchalant mask. Hermione couldn't help but admire her ability to quickly adjust to the situation. "I wonder where you're going? The Quidditch field seems to be in the other direction!"

Ginny looked suspiciously at Harry.

"The game was over as soon as it started, so we decided to freshen up," he explained simply as he moved closer to her. "You can join us if you want to."

"I don't mind! But please, let's go to my bungalow. I need to get my beach things," Hermione said immediately, thanking Harry and Ron for their timely arrival. The cool seawater would certainly help her, plus it would be a good opportunity to escape the awkward conversation with Ginny.

" I'm in too!" said the younger Weasley, instantly catching everyone's enthusiasm. She loved spending time on the beach. "But I need to get something from my bungalow, too."

"Here we go," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "I don't think we'll have an opportunity to swim until the end of the dinner, Harry."

"Tomorrow's dinner," Potter said, exchanging glances with his friend.

"So no, girls. Come on, we're on our own, and you... " Ron said pointedly.

"Hey, what are you two planting?" Ginny poked Harry in the side and turned an indignant look at Ron.

"Yes, it certainly looks like a conspiracy," Hermione said, crossing her arms and shaking her head, determined to play along. "Shame on you!"

"Okay, okay, just stop looking like that! It's just that it always takes you forever to get ready."

"Really?" Ginny raised an eyebrow significantly. "As far as I remember, this is more applies to you, Ron."

"No, it's not!" he said.

"It is!" Hermione confirmed. "Remembering all those obscene words that we heard in the morning in the Burrow, when you were once again late for work. it's possible to make a whole dictionary of vulgar language because of this!"

"No, a whole dictionary of vulgar words can be made from Ronald's words in response to the fact that he was once again deprived of his money bonus for being late," Ginny shook her head reproachfully.

"That's enough! I've already realized that arguing with women is like trying to prove your case to the garden gnomes," Ron muttered and scowled at his sister.

"Garden gnomes, then?" The younger Weasley crossed her arms over her chest. "What if I tell you…"

Hermione couldn't hear the rest of the conversation, because suddenly her attention was drawn to a young man who was walking rapidly in their direction. He was still far enough to see his face, but something inside Hermione clenched and she turned away abruptly.

She must have dreaming.

Hermione tried to make sense of what Ginny was saying, but she couldn't concentrate. Finally, giving up these feeble attempts to distract herself from her bad thoughts, she turned her head once more and froze in an unnatural position.

The blond hair, the toned silhouette, the characteristic free gait, the dark tattoo mark on his left forearm – all this left no doubt that Draco Malfoy was rapidly approaching them.

With a low gasp, Hermione quickly turned her gaze to her friends. Ginny and Ron were arguing desperately, and Harry was obviously trying to calm them down, albeit in vain. Fortunately, the friends were so carried away by what was happening that they didn't notice Malfoy.

It's just as well.

Hermione, forbidding herself to look in his direction, tried to get her thoughts together. In fact, why was she so excited? Most likely, Malfoy is just taking a walk or maybe going to the beach. There was no chance that he would dare approach her in front of her friends. And, in the end, what should they talk about?! After their last meeting and the words they had said to each other, Hermione seriously doubted that they would ever start to.… communicate again.

But something was wrong. Hermione caught the change in Harry's face as he stared at something behind her. His eyes darkened, the body tensed involuntarily, and to top it all off, he gave Ron a little nudge in the side. The man immediately fell silent, first staring blankly at Harry, then following his gaze, his face changed in the same way.

Holy Merlin, anything but that.

"What do you want?" Ron snapped grimly, addressing someone behind Hermione.

Yes, Holy Merlin would hardly be merciful to her today.

"Granger, we need to talk," ignoring the Weasley, Malfoy said calmly almost directly over Hermione's ear.

Her heart was pounding really fast, and she spun around to meet Draco's gaze, who was looking at her with a bored expression.

Her eyes widened from a mixture of horror and surprise, an incomprehensible fear shook her body and, finally, anger began to arise somewhere inside of her.

How dare he approach her in front of her friends? What the hell is on his mind? What if he decided to ... tell them?

Apparently, the last question was reflected on her face, and Malfoy smirked slightly.

"If you want to talk to her, you can do it in front of us," Harry said warily, snapping Hermione out of her temporary trance.

"I don't really care, Potter, as long as Granger doesn't mind," Draco said in a relaxed way, emphasizing the last words, keeping his mocking gaze on her face.

"Hermione has no secrets from us, Malfoy," Ron said grimly, glaring at Draco before turning his gaze back to her. "Isn't that right, Hermione?"

She couldn't tell the truth. There was so much hope in Ron's eyes, so much genuine faith, that she just couldn't say no. And she didn't want to.

Hermione felt like a small animal trapped in a corner, and mentally cursed the whole world for being in such a stupid situation.

"Of course it is, Ron," Hermione finally managed to answer, and throwing another warning glance at Draco, she said in a low voice: "You can say it, Malfoy."

Their gazes collided, and Hermione read the silent question in Draco's eyes: "Are you sure?"

He was looking at her, both wary and surprised. Obviously, he couldn't believe that she really wanted them to talk in front of everyone.

Hermione cursed inwardly. Damn, of course she wasn't sure! How could she be sure if he could ruin her relationship with her friends in one fell swoop? Destroy all the light that has been between them over the years? Finally, to tell the truth and thereby expose the weakness to which she succumbed and which her friends are unlikely to forgive her for?!

And yet, as she held his gaze, Hermione nodded slightly, and Malfoy's grin widened.

"Interesting," Draco drawled, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Well, then, I'll get started."

Hermione's stomach clenched. She wished a hundred times that she had walked away with Malfoy, that she had made up some stupid excuse not to talk to him in front of her friends, that she had finally told him to go to hell.

"Speak up, Malfoy," Harry said through gritted teeth, and Hermione silently prayed that Draco wouldn't say anything extra.

But he was in no hurry to speak. He seemed to be deliberately delaying the moment to annoy her even more, and Hermione felt that she would go mad if he didn't start right away.

Finally, Malfoy grinned, and lazily cocked his head to one side, saying:

"Rehearsal's in an hour. In the Great Hall."

Hermione stared at him blankly. What did he just say? Really not a word about … About what happened?

"A rehearsal?" she repeated dully, slowly coming to her senses.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Granger, rehearsal, in an hour, in the ballroom. Maria asked me to tell you."

"Wait, Malfoy, what are you talking about? What kind of rehearsal?" Ron started indignantly, taking a step towards him.

"Oh, Weasley, didn't Granger tell you?" Draco asked with fake sympathy and looked at her inquiringly.

"Hermione, what were you supposed to say?" Harry frowned.

"Wait, am I missing something?" Ginny asked warily.

"What's this jerk talking about?" Ron finally finished the line of questions.

Hermione wanted to vanish. She seemed to melt under the inquisitive gazes of her friends, who waited patiently for an answer. She glared at Draco, and was about to say out loud what she thought of him, when Draco stopped her with a gesture.

"I said everything I wanted to, so I don't see the need to stay here any longer," Malfoy said with a slight smile on his face, and then, looking around at everyone present, he added, "I'm sure Granger will explain everything to you! She has no secrets from her friends."

With these words, Malfoy barely perceptibly winked at her, and, turning on his heels, slowly walked away, thrusting his hands into his pockets. Hermione's hand involuntarily reached for her wand, and she did her best to resist the temptation to throw a stunning spell at him.

But on the other hand, she felt quite relieved.

It could have been much worse.

Fortunately, this time, Malfoy kept silent about the most important thing: what had happened between them.

So far, he kept silent.

"Hermione," Ginny called, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do you want to tell us what's going on?"

Hermione sighed and turned her weary gaze to her friend.

Here it is, that damn moment, the moment of truth.

"Remember when I told you I had a problem, actually more than one?"

Ginny's expression changed, and she gave a little gasp of understanding.

"Do you really have to…"

"I have to participate in the dance show with Draco Malfoy. He was appointed my partner."

She said it like a prisoner passing his own death sentence.

Hearing her words, friends reacted in different ways: Harry's face went a little pale, frozen with horror, Ginny put her hand over her mouth and shook her head, and Ron turned purple with anger and clenched his fists fiercely.

Hermione had no doubt that there would be a fight.

And yes, she had indeed judged herself for the day she had agreed to rest in La Bella Magnolia.

She flew into the hall like an enraged banshee. She shot him a withering look, greeted Maria, and stopped a few feet away, with her arms crossed over her chest.

Draco chuckled. Granger's reaction was quite predictable, especially considering that he had unwittingly caused a huge quarrel. He had barely moved away from the magnificent four when he heard Weasley's furious voice. Although Draco couldn't make out the exact phrases, he knew for a fact that Ronald didn't mince his words. In any case, Granger's reaction in the form of an endless verbal stream in a raised voice confirmed this.

"Well, I think we can start," the Italian woman said cheerfully with smile on her face. "First of all, I want to say that you both were perfect at yesterday's rehearsal."

Draco snorted and glanced at Hermione. She didn't even stir an eyelid, but continued to scowl at Maria. Obviously, she wasn't in the mood for dancing, and certainly not for compliments.

"But we still have a lot of work to do. Your performance is in a week, so you will have to practice every day."

After these words, Granger seemed to come to her senses.

"Every day?" she asked, frowning even more indignantly.

"Yes, signorina, otherwise you won't have time to practice your dance routine. So let's not waste time on empty conversations, and immediately start training," Maria explained patiently, and then, giving Hermione an appraising look, added, "Although you'll obviously find it uncomfortable to train looking like this."

Draco knew that the Italian woman was right: Granger was wearing a long, ankle-length sundress that completely hid her figure. Dancing in such a dress was a very risky activity, because the chance of getting tangled in the hem or stepping on it was too high for both of them.

Of course, on the other hand, it would be silly to think that Granger would come to their dance class in that tight dress. Especially considering that the last time her decision to wear something like this brought very unpredictable consequences for both of them.

His memory kindly served him the image of Hermione writhing under his body, their passionate kiss that still burned on his lips, and the exciting feminine curves that his hands remembered.

Yes, Granger, that's right. Best not play with fire..

Best not tempt me.

"Well, since my clothes aren't suitable for the class, maybe we won't practise at all today?" Hermione asked, looking down at herself with a hint of hope.

"No, bella, I have a better idea," Maria said with a sly smile and pointed her wand at her. The Italian woman muttered a spell, and before Granger could protest, her sundress began to transform.

The hem of the skirt was getting shorter by every second, exposing her slender legs more and more, the fabric of the dress fit snugly to the body so that now all the curves of the girl's figure were visible, and, on top of everything, the dense material in the lower part of the sundress was replaced by the finest translucent lace.

As a result, when the transformation ended, there was no trace of Hermione's former outfit. Her eyes widened in horror as she went to the mirror and saw what she was wearing now.

The impression was that she was wearing only a tight black swimsuit, completely exposing her back and seductively emphasizing the feminine lines of her body, with a lace skirt sewn on top, just above the knee, which only for the smallest part hid the girl's tanned hips.

Draco whistled. He'd long ago accepted that Granger was pretty, but this was the first time he'd ever seen her so sexy.

"Holy Merlin..." Hermione said, unable to recover herself. "You left me naked!"

She whirled around to face Maria and stared at her fiercely.

"Give me back my sundress!"

"Calm down, signorina, you're just not used to seeing yourself in dance uniform," the Italian woman said placidly.

"I think I can guess what kind of training we will practice," Draco couldn't resist but commenting, and immediately caught Hermione glaring at him.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" she blurted out, obviously uncomfortable under his gaze.

Draco didn't even try to look away. Half-naked Granger in such a tempting outfit that opened up a lot of space for his imagination – no, he just couldn't help but look at her, no matter how much he tried to persuade himself to turn away.

"Please do something!" Hermione pleaded with Maria.

She just spread her hands.

"I'm sorry, signorina, but this is the dance uniform that all the girls wear in class. Believe me, you will be very comfortable to dance in it."

"Indeed, Granger, it's wonderful when no clothes get in the way of…training," Draco smiled leeringly, putting all his emotions into the last word and devouring her with a glance.

He could easily hide his lust for her, of course, but the way Granger flushed painfully in front of his eyes was too funny to deprive himself of such a show.

Hermione gave him one of her most disdainful looks, clenched her fists, and turned proudly to walk towards Maria.

Draco suddenly felt a tightness in his groin area. The excitement was painful, the most inappropriate thoughts popped into his head, and this was already alarming.

Stop.

With an effort of will, Malfoy forced himself to look away from Hermione's chiseled figure and once again asked himself: what the hell is going on with him?! Why was his body so hungry for her? What's the reason for this fucking lust?

As usual, there were no answers.

"So, to begin with, let's repeat the tango we learned yesterday," Maria said, clapping her hands, and moved to the wall, leaving a place for Hermione and Draco to perform.

Arguing with her was clearly a futile exercise, as evidenced by her unyielding appearance and steady gaze.

Suddenly, the typical tango music started playing in the hall.

Malfoy cursed under his breath and reluctantly turned to Granger. She stood with her chin up and her arms folded. Obviously, she wasn't in the mood to dance, and neither was he.

Bitterly grinning at the stupidity of the situation and promising himself never to get involved in such adventures again, Draco nevertheless swaggered up to her and gave her his hand, inviting her to the dance floor.

Hermione, glancing sideways at him, hesitated for a moment, then sighed heavily and put her hand in his.

"No funny business, Malfoy," she said warningly, and followed him into the centreita of the room.

"I want to tell you the same thing, Granger," Draco frowned at her, showing her the back of his hand, scratched with nails, and then turned Hermione to face him.

They began to dance, and at first everything went smoothly. They stared into each other's eyes as they walked in a circle, and Draco even mentally praised himself for never looking below the level of Granger's face.

But as soon as he touched her bare skin, so soft and tender to the touch, like velvet, everything went blur. A shiver ran through his body, a new powerful wave of arousal rose in the pit of his stomach, and even the very air around him seemed to be electrified. He saw Hermione gasp as he ran his fingers lightly down her back, moving to her neck. It wasn't a movement that had been planned in the dance, but Draco just wanted to feel her skin again, to feel it fully.

"Stop it," Granger hissed at him, but he didn't seem to hear her.

The madness surged through him again, stabbing him with its inevitability.

He didn't think he could lose his mind so quickly. Everything inside him screamed, ordering to stop, but he just couldn't.

They danced, and every time he touched Hermione, a haze of memories rose before his eyes. His hands on her hips, his lips on her skin, his tongue exploring the depths of her mouth. Did it really happen?..

Draco looked into her eyes, as if trying to find the answer to his question, and his pupils widened. There was something in that look again that instantly made him pull her closer to him, much harder than the next movement of the dance required.

Granger could have sensed his arousal for sure. And he could swear that she readily clung to him, as if she longed for it.

Damn it.

Draco abruptly turned Hermione around and cursed, thinking that he is definitely fooling himself . Granger, after all that had happened, openly showing her desire for him?! Nonsense.

Draco would have held on to that opinion if it hadn't been for the way she responded to his next touch. When his hand slowly traced the curves of her body, lingering a little longer in the chest area, Hermione sighed sharply and, squeezing his palm with her nails, swung her hips towards his groin.

It seemed that this movement of hers had completely driven Draco mad. Right now, he didn't care that they were in the dance hall, that someone else was watching them, and he certainly didn't care about all the fucking promises he'd made about never touching her again.

With a low growl, Draco spun Hermione around and squeezed her shoulders so hard that his fingers left white marks on her skin.

"And you're saying it's me who needs to stop? " he said through clenched teeth.

Granger looked at him in dismay, her mouth slightly open, waiting for what would happen next, and he thought that never before had her lips been so desirable for him as now.

Draco leaned slightly towards her, mentally begging her to pull away, to hit, to push, to do something to stop this madness that had attacked him so suddenly, but she didn't move. On the contrary, Granger was open, ready for him. And those lips, so inviting, so luscious, so soft, they seemed to beg for a kiss. Draco mentally sent all the world to hell, and leaned even closer, so that he could smell the faint sweet scent of her skin. He was about to touch her lips when suddenly the music stopped and Maria's sharp voice rang out:

"You two! What an outrage on the dance floor?!"

Draco felt as if he'd been doused with a tub of icy water. He abruptly pulled away from Hermione and took a few steps back.

They stared at each other, dumbfounded, unable to believe what might have happened if it hadn't been for the timing of Maria's words.

"Holy shit, Granger, what was that?!" was the only question Draco wanted to ask her right now, but it wasn't necessary: Hermione obviously understood everything without words. His dazed gaze, his tense, alert body, and indeed Draco's entire appearance at the moment exuded a huge, blatant question mark.

Malfoy watched as Hermione's cheeks gradually flushed, and horror bloomed in her eyes.

Abruptly, Granger turned away from him and looked at the Italian woman.

"I'm sorry, Maria, we didn't mean to…"

The words seemed to fly out of her mouth, and as she realized the ambiguity of the phrase, she blushed even more.

"You forgot almost the entire dance! Your improvisation, of course, was good, but still, even it should be well planned!" As if not noticing Hermione's embarrassment, Maria said indignantly, gesturing actively.

Draco didn't know for sure if the Italian woman understood what happened or everything for her was just a "dance improvisation" between two people. But one thing he knew for sure: if it hadn't been for her words that stopped the two of them in time, the inevitable would have happened.

They would both break.

As soon as she came to dinner, all three of her friends fell silent, and Hermione had no doubt that she herself was the subject of the lively conversation that had been going on at the table just a moment ago.

Ginny gave her an apologetic smile, then glanced sideways at her brother and shook her head ruefully. Harry, though unhappy with the situation, gave her a small nod of greeting, but then frowned down at his plate, while Ron chewed furiously and pretended not to notice her arrival.

Hermione sighed softly and sat down at the table, wishing everyone enjoy their meal.

She couldn't blame her friends for still being mad at her. After all, she had never kept secrets from them. But on the other hand, she had never spent so much time in Malfoy's company, even if she had to, near to him.

And Hermione honestly wanted to tell them. But at the same time, she knew for sure that her friends wouldn't like it, to put it mildly, and therefore only delayed this unpleasant conversation indefinitely, hoping that perhaps the very reason for it would disappear. But after yesterday's rehearsal, it became clear that, one way or another, she would have to make such a difficult decision.

After all, the reason hasn't disappeared, to her great regret.

And she was going to, really was going to tell them today, but Malfoy ruined it all.

Hermione gripped her fork angrily and, almost as fiercely as Ron had done, stuffed a piece of chicken into her mouth.

The mere thought of Draco pissed her off.

Today, she could barely wait for the end of the training session to get away from him as soon as possible. Something strange, inexplicable, and frightening began to happen to her, while she was closer to him than 3 feet. She couldn't understand why every touch of his made her body flutter, while her ability to think clearly was instantly drained away.

And the worst part was that she knew that Malfoy was experiencing something similar. She felt it in her guts.. His gaze devouring her, his excitement that she could feel through her clothes, the passion that seemed to ooze out of him at the very beginning of their lesson – all this made her respond, go forward, fall into the abyss of the strongest emotions. It was as if she was tied up and could do nothing with her body, which, despite her ultimate denying, clung to him so tightly.

"So how was the rehearsal?" Harry cleared his throat, hesitated, and glanced at Hermione.

"Quite bearable. We've started learning a new dance with Maria," she said cautiously, exchanging glances with Ginny. Her friend gave her a reassuring nod, and Hermione decided to continue the conversation. "What have you been doing all day?"

Ron began to devour the food even more furiously, giving her a sullen look.

"We were on the beach and then we went to the library," Ginny said quickly, casting a warning glance at her brother.

"To the library?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Did I just hear that you go to the library?"

A shadow of a smile appeared on Harry's face.

"Yes, there was a guy at the Quidditch field this morning who mentioned that the local library has an exclusive set of "Quidditch Today" specials dating back to 1976. Ron and I just couldn't miss it. Isn't that right, mate?"

Potter nudged his friend, who chewed furiously on the last of his food, took a sip from his glass of water, and spun around to face him.

"Stop pretending that nothing happened. I'm getting sick of this nice conversation of yours," he blurted out sullenly.

"Ron, please…" Ginny began, rolling her eyes, but he stopped her with a hand.

"Indeed, how can you remain so calm when this blond freak is pawing her every day using this dance classes as an excuse?!" Ron said, glaring at the faces around him.

"Ron! We've already discussed this!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly, and immediately regretted, because he glared at her so fiercely that it seemed that she was about to light up from his gaze.

"I don't care what we discussed! I just still can't understand why you can't refuse? Does it give you the pleasure that he touches your skin with his disgusting fingers?! Only think about this makes me sick!"

Oh, Ron, you better not know the answer.

Hermione squeezed her head with her fingers, then gently placed her hands on the table.

"I already told you that according to the rules of the resort I have no right to refuse to participate in the event that Magnolia or the staff working here assigns me. Is it really so hard to remember?!" she began to boil. "Trust me, Ron, if I could change anything in this situation, I would certainly do it!"

She jerked her head up and looked at him hard.

"And, yes, I'm sick of having to dance with him. But there's nothing I can do about it! Absolutely nothing! Do you understand?!"

From the way Ron's features smoothed slightly, it was clear that he was beginning to understand.

"Okay, let's say I can put up with the fact what this ferret is going to touch you again… How many days do you have left of this stupid dancing classes?"

"Seven," said Hermione through gritted teeth, giving him a murderous look.

"Seven more days," said Ron impatiently, "But what if he wants more than just to dance with you? What if he'll try to hit on you?!"

"Draco has a girlfriend, Ron, remember? And you danced with her so frivolously just recently," Ginny interjected, giving him a scornful look. "Or have you forgotten?"

Ron seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, then blushed a little and blurted out:

"That doesn't mean anything! How do we know what's on his mind? This is Malfoy, you can expect anything from him!"

"That's enough," said Hermione, putting her napkin on the table and standing up abruptly. "I'm not going to listen to any more of your unreasonable speculation. Yes, Ron, I'm ashamed, and I apologize for not telling you about this situation until recently, but I can't get away from it! I'll have to perform with Malfoy, whether I want to or not!"

She was breathing hard, looking him straight in the eye. Ron was taken aback and froze with an incomprehensible expression on his face. Hermione's last monologue seemed to have sobered him up, and he was already regretting what he had said.

"Hermione…" he began apologetically.

"No, let me finish," she said, stopping him with a gesture as she felt tears welling up in her eyes. "I just want to say that now, more than ever, I need your support. I'm not asking you to accept this situation right away, and I'll understand if it takes you a while to get used to it, but whether you like it or not, I'll dance with Draco Malfoy, if only to stay at the resort and spend the rest of my vacation here with you."

With that, Hermione abruptly turned around and quickly walked away from the Great Hall. She could hear Ron calling her name, and she was grateful to Ginny for holding him back in an attempt to catch up with her.

Right now, she just needed to be alone. Today brought a lot of events, and mostly not a positive ones.

She walked quickly, and somehow her feet led her to the familiar palm grove, in the midst of her own hidden island of tranquillity. Visibly reassured by the thought that she would soon find herself on a wonderful beach that gave her a sense of security, Hermione quickened her pace. But as soon as she reached the thinning row of palm trees, a few feet from the sand cover, her heart jumped in surprise: a mysterious figure appeared on the beach. Unable to believe that someone had found her secret place, she frowned and quietly moved closer and hid behind the trunk of the largest and widest tree. Hermione slowly peeked out from behind it, trying not to make any noise, and realized that a man was standing near the water's edge. Against the background of the setting sunset, she could only see his dark silhouette, so she couldn't see who exactly was responsible for the collapse of her hopes for privacy in this beautiful place.

She hesitated for a few seconds, deciding whether to come closer or not, but in the end, curiosity got the better of her, and Hermione, after taking off her shoes, carefully stepped out of her shelter and stepped on the warm sand. She took only a few careful steps, when she saw the wind gently fluttering the young man's blond hair, she staggered back in horror and fell, losing her balance.

Hermione had already prepared herself to face Draco Malfoy again, but he didn't seem to hear the noise. Taking advantage of the moment, she jumped up abruptly and as quickly as possible, so that he couldn't hear, went to the very palm tree behind which she had been hiding just a minute ago. She had only two steps left when she suddenly heard a calm voice:

"I know you're here, Granger."

There was a considerable distance between them, and Hermione thought she must have imagined it. Or rather, she forced herself to believe it, and walked even faster.

"Really, Granger, this is ridiculous," Malfoy's much clearer voice came to her.

Cursing, Hermione turned slowly and met Draco's gaze.

He was standing in front of her, hands in his pockets, grinning slightly.

As always, Malfoy looked gorgeous. His undeniable, somewhat casual good looks were immediately apparent. It gave the impression that he didn't care much about his appearance, but of course that wasn't really the case. Hermione grudgingly noted that all this loose, slightly imposing style of dress, the lazy grace of his movements and the peculiar manner of communication only added to his charm. Most likely, the special magnetism was given to him from birth along with the aristocracy, and over the years, Malfoy simply learned to use his natural entity.

But now, in the light of the setting sun, Draco seemed particularly attractive to her. The light tan that his skin had gradually acquired suited him, and his white shirt, unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, only emphasized this. At the same time, his whole appearance exuded a masculinity and strength peculiar only to people hardened by the strokes of fate, which was working in everyone's favour.

"How did you find this place?" Hermione asked as she took a few steps towards him, trying to push away the unwelcome thoughts of Malfoy's attractiveness.

"Probably the same way as you," Draco chuckled and looked around. "It's not bad here, is it?"

The beach was fabulously beautiful, and Hermione thought with annoyance that the description "not bad" was too much of an understatement of its beauty.

"I come here every day, and you're the first person I've ever met here… " she said, a little reproachfully, as if hoping that Malfoy would understand her desire to be alone with herself and leave. "Were you following me?"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"In this situation, Granger, I think I should ask you that question. Although I have to say, you're not much of a spy."

There was a spark of amusement in his eyes.

Hermione looked at him, puzzled. Malfoy wasn't acting the way she'd expected.

She shivered at the memory of what had happened between them at the dance class today. And she couldn't understand how anyone could stay so damn calm and friendly after the two of them had almost got in the deep shit just a few hours ago . Thank Merlin, Maria stopped them right in time.

"Okay, Malfoy, I think you've already enjoyed your stay here, so now please give me a fair chance to be here alone," Hermione said with a hint of irritation in her voice, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Fair chance?! Wait, you're talking like this place belongs to you alone," Draco waved his hand vaguely. "Although I don't think I've ever seen a sign that says "This beach is the property of Hermione Granger"."

An ironic smile tugged at the corners of Malfoy's mouth, and Hermione was surprised to find that she was almost ready to smile herself. No, she's definitely going crazy.

And suddenly, it was as if an insight descended on her.

Lately, she'd been thinking about it all the time, and here it was, the perfect moment.

It might turn out later that it wasn't the best idea, but it certainly wouldn't get any worse.

"Well, now we've met," Hermione began unexpectedly, and with a sigh, blurted out what had been on her mind for so long. "Why don't we talk?"

Hermione couldn't believe she'd done it, and she was already regretting it, but there was no turning back.

She was hoping that after the conversation , they, as adults, would be able to unravel at least a little the tangle of problems that haunted them almost all the days of their stay at the resort.

Draco shot her a questioning look.

"About what?"

"I think we have a lot of things to discuss."

Hermione looked at him steadily and saw the expression on Malfoy's face change, and his body stiffen slightly. Obviously, he was going over all the possible "things" in his head, and he clearly didn't like it.

"Well, I agree," he answered after a little hesitation, without a shadow of a smile on his face. "What do you want to talk about at first?"

There was a hidden subtext in his words, and Hermione's skin was showered with goosebumps from the realization that Draco was ready to discuss absolutely everything with her. Even something that tormented the two of them so much, and that she wasn't yet ready to voice it out loud.

Hermione hurried to answer.

"We need to decide what to do with the trainings. Since we have to train every day, and more on our own, first of all, we need to decide where we will do it," she blurted out in a slightly trembling voice.

Draco perceptibly relaxed and grinned, obviously intending to sarcastically, but still held back. Most likely, he felt considerable relief from the fact that the chosen topic for discussion didn't go upon some points and they preferred to remain silent for the moment.

"Dance hall?" he asked simply, lazily tilting his head to one side.

"Impossible. Classes are held there every hour, and you can train in it only during the general dance lesson, or at the appointed time of the official individual training,'' Hermione rapped out, repeating Maria's words almost word for word. "I thought there might be some vacant rooms in Magnolia's main building dedicated specifically to dancing…"

"Impossible," Malfoy said this time. "The only place for such practices is that hall. The rest of the classrooms are equipped for completely different needs."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked with slight annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest.

"The Story of La Mia Bella Magnolia, Granger," Draco whispered, leaning slightly towards her. "Or have you never heard of this book before?"

"Of course I did," Hermione snorted and blushed slightly, feeling hurt that Malfoy knew more about Magnolia than she did.

"Read it whenever you have a free time, there are a lot of interesting things," noticing her reaction, Draco looked at her patronizingly, and Hermione felt an acute desire to strangle him. "But, if we return to the topic we are discussing, I want to offer one very worthy option for training."

Hermione, for a moment forgetting about her indignation, stared at him with interest.

"What is it?"

Draco looked at her triumphantly and scanned the area around them.

"We can train right here."

Hermione, following his gaze, frowned and stared at him blankly.

"Here?!" she exclaimed. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Not at all," he replied calmly. "By cleverly casting Transfiguration spells, we can make this beach a bearable training place."

"I'm wondering how you're going to do this?" Hermione looked at Draco sceptically.

Although she was a very gifted witch, in this case, she had no idea how to transform the beach into a place for dance training.

"Knowing you, Granger, I'm pretty sure you'll hardly believe my words," Malfoy took out his wand from his belt and looked reproachfully at her. "So I better show you."

After these words, he began very quickly to whisper some complex spells, and Hermione was stunned to see how the grains of sand, evenly coming off the ground, gradually begin to gather into a single substance and take the shape of a parallelepiped, stretching almost the entire beach.

A few minutes later, Draco meticulously inspecting his creation, came close to a small, about eight inches high, but wide figure, and touched it with his wand. Hermione gasped in amazement as she saw the sand slowly transform into shiny oak flooring.

When the transformation was finally over, Draco stepped onto the hard surface of the dance floor he had just created and turned lazily towards Hermione with a slight grin.

"How, how did you do it?" she asked being dazed and squatted beside the parquet floor and touched the varnished wood with her fingers.

Malfoy shrugged vaguely.

"It's not a big deal, just a couple of spells."

Hermione slowly stood up and stared at him in disbelief.

She was deeply impressed by what Malfoy had just done. He was always a smart student, and many things at school were easier to him than for the others, but the magic of this level was available only to the most talented wizards.

"Just a couple of spells?! This is an advanced level of transfiguration, Malfoy! Where did you learn this?"

Draco's gaze instantly darkened and he, looking gloomily at Hermione, stepped off the floor onto the sand.

"You'd better not know, Granger. Let's just say, sometimes I had to learn in the shortest possible time and much more serious things to survive."

After these words, he furiously pointed his wand at the floor he had just created, and it instantly turned into a cloud of grains of sand that slowly settled to the ground.

Cold shook Hermione. Unknowingly, her gaze slid towards Draco's left forearm, where the Dark Mark used to be. Now a completely harmless dragon flaunted in its place, but still, the fact that there was once another, much more ominous drawing was terrifying.

Yes, only Merlin knows how much Malfoy suffered during the war. And although he never aroused sympathy in her, Hermione still felt something like respect for him. He was able not to break down after the chilling events he experienced during his forced stay in the ranks of the Death Eaters and to find the courage to start a new life. She knew for sure that all his ideas about life were destroyed and trampled into the mud. And he was a courageous wizard if he could deal with it.

"Well, let's say we have a dance floor but are you not afraid that people who accidentally wandered onto the beach might interfere with our rehearsals?" Hermione asked, frowning slightly and trying to translate the topic.

"No. You said that you haven't met anyone here until today! And besides, no one has cancelled the Repelling Charm," Draco winked at her, distracted from his gloomy thoughts.

"I doubt that such magic is allowed here," Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, shivering from the cold gust of wind.

"But it's not forbidden either," Malfoy retorted. "So this problem can be considered solved."

For a while, she was silent, looking at the endless restless sea, accelerated by the approaching storm.

"And yet, we still have a lot of unresolved problems," Hermione said thoughtfully, throwing her head up to the cloudy sky.

Most likely, it was about to rain.

"In that case, why don't we discuss all these same problems in a more secluded place?" Draco lazily suggested, as if reading her thoughts, and the corners of his lips twitched slightly as he saw Hermione's eyes widen.

"What?" she abruptly turned her gaze to him, thinking that she misheard.

"Come on, Granger, you can see perfectly well that we risk getting wet in the rain if we stay there for more than five minutes," Malfoy took a few steps towards her. "And besides, didn't you suggest that we talk?"

Hermione, realizing that Draco was right, stared at him for a while, not knowing what to say. Seeing her confusion, he chuckled.

"Don't worry, I don't invite you to visit my bungalow and, even more so, I don't ask for a cup of tea in your chambers. Although, if you want, of course..."

He waved his hand vaguely and stretched his mouth even further in a grin.

Hermione instantly regained consciousness, looking at him indignantly.

"Of course not!"

"I didn't doubt your answer. So I know a very good place on neutral territory, where we can calmly talk about everything and at the same time not meet someone who can distract us."

Hermione caught an obvious hint of her friends in Draco's words but chose not to paying attention to it.

To be honest, she was confused. Something inside her was screaming: "Run, run away! Leave him!"

But on the other hand, since she decided to talk with Malfoy, it would be easier to bring it to its culmination today. Plus, Draco's reasons for this decision were undeniable.

"Okay. I agree," she said firmly looking at him and hoping that she would not have to regret it.

Malfoy tilted his head slightly.

"Perfect."

With these words, he came close to her, and Hermione sighed, holding her breath, but Draco just walked by, following into the thick of the palm grove.

Her body instantly felt goosebumps when she felt the fleeting touch of his hand on her palm.

"And you call this a "more secluded place"?!"

Hermione glanced around warily.

They were in a bar that looks like the Hot Night Club, where she had been with Ginny. But unlike that place, here on a small stage, there was an entertainment program in pure Italian language, including various creative performances and competitions.

It seemed to Hermione that there were only Italian people in the bar, except for two Englishmen sitting at the next table, with whom she once attended one of a resorts master classes.

Twilight reigned in the hall, diluted only by the dim light of the spotlights, the emotional loud speech of wizards mixed with Latin American music and you could hear it anywhere around, to which barely dressed girls danced on the stage.

"It's very nice here, isn't it?" ignoring her question, he leaned in chair with lazy grace.

"No," Hermione responded immediately .

She glanced at the waitress who darted past, her skirt was really short and opened up a very generous view of what was underneath.

Malfoy grinned and snapped his fingers in the air. At the same moment, a menu appeared in front of him. After carefully examining him, he looked up at the waitress and gestured to her.

Less than ten seconds later, she was there.

"Buona sera, signore! Che volete ordinare?"*

"Due "Piccola morte", per favore!"**

The girl turned her surprised gaze to Hermione.

"Un bicchiere per signorina?"***

"Sì, bella,"**** Draco confirmed, and the waitress, after looking at her strangely, instantly disappeared from their eyes.

"What did you order?" Hermione hissed suspiciously, leaning across the table toward him.

She was quite annoyed by the fact that she understood almost nothing from Malfoy's conversation with the waitress in pure Italian language.

"The same as for myself: a cocktail called "Piccola morte", which means "A little death"," Draco chuckled slightly. "They make it amazing here."

"A little death, then," said Hermione sceptically. " And where did you get the idea that I will drink this?"

Malfoy shrugged vaguely.

"It's just the best thing on the menu, besides, as far as I understand, pumpkin juice hasn't been your priority in the choice of drinks for a long time."

Draco was openly amused, and Hermione slowly began to lose her temper.

The situation was aggravated by the fact that she felt uncomfortable in this establishment because there was this atmosphere around... promiscuity? Sensuality?Relaxation, in its extreme degree?!

It was difficult to find the right word.

"How do you know Italian language?" Hermione asked nervously after a pause.

Draco chuckled slightly.

"You see, Granger, when you hear speech in an unfamiliar language from day to day, you involuntarily begin to memorize the basics."

"It's weird, but I didn't hear Italian that often to remember anything," Hermione admitted, frowning slightly.

"I'm not talking about this resort," Draco shook his head. "El is half Italian."

"Oh..." Hermione drawled understandingly and fell silent. Something in her stomach immediately twisted. And before she had time to think, the words themselves flew out of her mouth: "How long have you been together?"

From the way Malfoy's eyebrows went up in surprise, Hermione realized that he hadn't expected this question.

She froze.

Mentally cursing herself for daring to start such a personal conversation, she was already ready to hear anything from Draco, but not this...

"A little over a year."

He responded reluctantly and looked at her intently as if watching her reaction.

"I see," Hermione said shortly and looked away.

She was embarrassed for her thoughtless question and doubly embarrassed for the realization that something was happening between them. In all honesty, Hermione admitted that her behaviour in many ways provokes Malfoy into very... Wrong things. And although they both are guilty in this situation, nevertheless, she's more to blame, only because Malfoy isn't single.

She would have continued to mentally berate herself if not for Draco's words:

"What about you, Granger?"

Hermione gave him a sharp look of surprise.

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you dating anyone?"

Draco asked this as calmly as if there was nothing special about the question. Still, Hermione saw his shoulders tighten slightly.

"No, no. Not now," she brushed aside and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her head slightly down.

There was something outrageous that they began to talk about such personal topics, and the feeling of uneasiness that had not left her from the very moment she arrived at this bar suddenly escalated.

"What about Weasley?" Draco continued insistently. "I heard you were going to get married."

Hermione stared at Malfoy, dazed. She couldn't believe that he asked her this question. "Not that we were planning but..." she began slowly, without expecting it. "So far we have preferred to remain friends." Hermione had no idea why she was answering such personal questions from a man whom she hated fiercely for most of her adult life.

"What about you, Malfoy?" clearing her throat, she repeated his question, asked to her earlier. "Are you and Elisa going?.."

Draco shrugged vaguely and looked away.

"We'll see how it goes."

It seemed that with every word they made careful steps towards each other, as if afraid to frighten off the moment. They had already gone far enough, and it seemed that these unexpected mutual revelations seemed to change something in their relationship.

And Hermione emboldened and succumbed to an impulse, asked the last question, which for some reason, was the most important for her.

"Do you love her?"

She held her breath.

Holy Merlin, did she dare to ask about... Love?

Her face turned red from feelings of awkwardness and growing terror.

Malfoy looked up at her. For an agonizingly long time, without a shadow of emotion, he simply stared into her face, while Hermione wanted to sink into the ground.

Why the hell she even asked this question ?!

"Probably."

Draco's answer was so short and simple that she stared at him for a while.

Yes, this conversation took an unexpected turn for the two of them.

"Probably?" finally, she quietly asked again, feeling as, for some unknown reason, an avalanche of a wide variety of emotions covers her.

Malfoy's face was suddenly twisted in pain.

"Damn, Granger, it's a really hard question!" instantly losing his composure, he raised his voice slightly. "I don't know how to answer it. Me and El, we never talked about..."

The word he didn't say hung in the air, and Hermione, who had previously looked at Draco with wide eyes, quickly looked away from his face.

She understood – the unthinkable had just happened: Malfoy, quite a bit, opened up to her.

And yet, it wasn't that stunned Hermione the most.

She was stunned by the fact that under all this mask of feigned arrogance, cynicism, sometimes even cruelty, she nevertheless saw him as a real person who, just like her, knows how to feel, experience things and possibly even... love.

The realization of this shocked Hermione so much that she simply couldn't utter a word.

Draco, in turn, was also silent.

Less than five minutes later, the waitress put glasses of dark brown liquid in front of them and, wishing them a wonderful evening in bad English, disappeared into the crowd.

Hermione stared at her cocktail in disbelief. She slowly turned her questioning gaze to Malfoy, as if afraid of retribution for the too personal questions she had asked earlier, which caused the super honest conversation between them.

But despite her fears, Draco's face was still as calm as before.

"I know, it doesn't look very good, but you can hardly find something more worthy in terms of taste in this resort," as if nothing had happened, he responded and took his glass in his hands.

Hermione was in no hurry to follow him, wondering if Malfoy was planning to poison her because deadly potions in Potions classes always had the same color.

Maybe this is his revenge? After all, given Draco's phenomenal knowledge of transfiguration, he could do anything.

As if reading her mind, Malfoy grinned unexpectedly.

"Don't worry, Granger. If I had planned to poison you, I would have done it in a much more subtle way."

"Thanks for the information, Malfoy," she replied sullenly, still glancing at her cocktail with fear.

"Okay, don't drink if you don't want to, but I won't refuse," Draco saluted with glass and, not frowning at all, finished his drink in one gulp, and put the vessel on the table with a clatter. "It's too strong for you anyway."

Hermione gritted her teeth and shot Malfoy an unkind look as she slowly reached for her cocktail.

"Too strong, you say?!"

"Well, for you, at least for sure," Draco assured her patronizingly, smiling indulgently.

Hermione, not without relief, thought that finally, their communication returned to normal.

It was easier for both of them.

"Let's see!" she responded to him, flashing eyes.

She took a sip and, suppressing a sharp urge to spit out the burning liquid back, still forced herself to finish the contents of the glass and immediately coughed. It felt like her throat was about to melt.

Hermione thought that there was nothing stronger than Firewhiskey, but after tasting "A little death", it became clear to her that compared to this cocktail Firewhiskey seemed like sweet pumpkin juice.

Blood instantly rushed to her cheeks, tears rose to her eyes, and only when ten seconds later the fire in her mouth began to gradually recede, leaving a pleasant aftertaste behind, she was able to speak.

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

Draco who had barely contained a laugh before these words now laughed openly.

"I warned you, Granger," he said, calming a little.

Hermione stared at him indignantly for a moment, narrowing her eyes, then raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

"Signorina, please come here!"

The waitress, catching her gaze, obligingly trotted in her direction.

"Due "Piccola morte", per favore," Hermione rapped out in broken Italian so Draco would surely hear.

"Oh no, Granger, this is certainly a bad idea," he protested instantly, still smiling.

"Why not?" she looked at him with a challenge.

Malfoy quickly looked around and leaned across the table toward her.

"Just trust me."

"Oh..." Hermione, pretending to understand, looked intently into his eyes for a while, then sharply turned to the waitress and stated: "One more "Piccola morte"."

Hermione saw that the waitress gave Malfoy a dazed look. He smiled slightly at her and nodded in confirmation of Hermione's words.

As the waitress disappeared from their sight, Draco said with irony in his voice:

"Okay, Granger. Before you finally lose your mind from the murderous portion of "A little death", I suggest starting a conversation."

Hermione was tempted to ask "Well, didn't we start?!", but she held back her impulse.

"Okay," she sighed, feeling the hops slowly enveloping her body, and crossed her fingers in front of her. "I have a suggestion."

"I'm all ears," Draco slumped casually back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.

"If we want the remaining days of our forced dance training to pass relatively calmly and without unpleasant effects on the our mental health, then we need to learn to follow a few simple rules," Hermione looked at him meaningfully.

"As I understand it, you want to come to an agreement and make peace?" Draco arched an eyebrow sceptically.

"Yes, that's right," Hermione nodded. "At least for a while."

Malfoy gazed at her for a while, then said:

"Go on."

"So first of all, we must try not to offend each other," Hermione began diplomatically.

"Wait, Granger, is it considered an insult to claiming a fact?" Malfoy interrupted with feigned concern and smirked slightly.

"Second of all," she continued, ignoring his words and flashing her eyes. "Do what the teachers ask us to do. No more, no less."

Her voice sounded weary, and Draco frowned slightly at the hidden meaning of Hermione's phrase.

"And finally, we need to learn, at least a little, how to respect each other," she proudly threw her head up. "I think this is the most difficult thing that we have to do, but, in any case, we can start by trying to call each other by first name."

"Bad idea," Malfoy snorted, listening patiently to Hermione before, and put his hands on the table.

"Why?"

"Because I think so, Hermione."

Her name, from his mouth, struck the ear, and it made her frown slightly.

"Well, I have to admit, it sounds strange, but..."

"Why, Hermione?" without letting her finish, he focused on the last word Malfoy.

She was starting to get angry.

Gritting her teeth, Hermione looked at him for a while, then asked:

"You're doing this on purpose, right?"

Draco grinned.

"Of course not, Hermione."

She was boiling.

"Malfoy..." she began warningly, bowing her head slightly.

"Hermione, why you calling me by the last name?!" Draco stared at her with feigned indignation, after which an ironic grin began to bloom on his face.

"Stop it immediately or..."

"Or what, Hermione?"

She clenched her fists angrily she was doing her best to hold back from telling Malfoy to go to hell.

"Hermione! Why are you silent, Hermione?" Draco didn't stop, and she snapped.

"That's it, Malfoy, stop it! Otherwise, I'll kill you."

Breathing heavily, she looked at him angrily, trying to calm the indignation that was raging inside.

Draco just grinned and, leaning slightly towards her, said in a low voice:

"I told you it was a bad idea, Granger."

Almost immediately after his words, the waitress put two more cocktails in front of them.

"Okay, I agree it was a shitty idea," Hermione said, frowning, and grabbed her glass. "I hope we will be able to cope with the current situation without it."

"Definitely, Granger, definitely," Draco assured her and saluted her with a glass. "For success in our difficult business!"

Not really understanding what Malfoy meant, she lifted her cocktail up.

"For success!"

Clinking glasses with each other, they almost simultaneously drained their glasses to the bottom.

Hermione, feeling the heat in her mouth for the second time, was finally able to feel the taste of the drink, and it seemed to be quite good.

She turned slightly and turned her gaze to the stage. At the moment, the musicians were tuning their equipment, and the entertainer spoke something fluently in Italian. Judging by the crowd gathered around the stage, it was safe to say that the dancing would begin soon.

"How often do you come here, Malfoy?" slightly drunk, Hermione asked.

"Not that often, but on some nights when I suffer from insomnia, this is the only place where time can pass everyone here is local, and that's why no one comes in with personal conversations, knowing that I won't understand them," Draco replied calmly with a secular smile. "What do you do in the evenings, Granger? Do you go somewhere?.."

Hermione didn't notice how they spent half an hour chatting about everything . Maybe the double portion of a strong cocktail was to blame, or maybe something else, but she thought that she had never felt so easy to communicate with anyone before.

She and Draco were just discussing the pros and cons of new legislation in the wizarding world when suddenly a young Englishman from a nearby table approached her.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, miss, but can I ask you for a dance, if, of course, your companion doesn't mind?" a man of about twenty-eight years old smiled charmingly at her, and Hermione, startled, looked around.

She had no idea when exactly the show ended and the music program began, but at the moment, the melodic Latin songs was playing in front of the stage, and half of the wizards in this bar were already dancing.

"Well..." she didn't know what to say, and for some reason, she looked questioningly at Malfoy.

The man, suppressing a grin, nodded to the Englishman.

"If the lady doesn't mind, then I don't mind."

Received a warning look from Draco, Hermione got up from her seat and walked unsteadily onto the dance floor.

She didn't see how intently, without a shadow of a smile, Malfoy looked after her.

The spotlights grew brighter, the music louder, and Hermione instantly felt a headache. She mentally cursed the moment when she decided to order the second portion of a "little death". Frankly, she wasn't up to dancing right now, but at the same time, Hermione was pretty flattered by the attention of the Englishman, shown in front of Malfoy.

Soon, finding herself in the centre of the dance floor, she felt how man's arms demanded wrapped around her waist. She, in response, put her palms on the shoulders of the Englishman and pumped her hips to the rhythm of the music. Feet with every second became more and more wadded, and Hermione felt that she was no longer keeping up with the melody.

Fortunately for her, the next composition was slow, and she completely surrendered herself to her partner, following his movements.

Suddenly, Hermione felt the Englishman's hands go lower and squeeze her bottom lightly. Looking at him indignantly, she grabbed the man by the wrists and returned his palms to her waist. In response to her action, he, grinning drunkenly, put his hands back in their original place.

"Come on, baby, don't be so aggravate," he purred in her ear, and Hermione tried to push him away from her, but the man only grabbed her harder, openly touching her body.

"Let me go, immediately!" Hermione shouted, instantly sobering up, and even more desperately tried to push the Englishman away, but he only mockingly laughed at this.

"Come on, didn't you come here to find yourself a hot man?"

"Not! If you haven't noticed, I didn't come here alone!", Hermione blurted out furiously, feeling how the guy begins to push her persistently deep into the room, where were no people.

The Englishman laughed unpleasantly and squeezed her even tighter in his arms, confidently moving forward.

"Don't lie to me, baby! I was wastching for a long time and already managed that you are a free bird. Relax and I'll take you to heaven, I promise!"

With these words, the Englishman, roughly pushed Hermione into a dark corner, stretched his lips to her face, pressing her tightly to him.

Hermione, closing her eyes in disgust, was already preparing for the worst when she suddenly felt his hands disappear from her body.

She slowly opened her eyes and saw Draco, taking the Englishman by the chest, sharply pinned him to the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing, bastard?" spat Malfoy, leaning almost to the very face of her abuser. He, stunned for a moment,grinned disgustingly.

"Hey boy, take it easy! Why are you so worried? This isn't your girlfriend, is it?" Draco took out his wand with lightning speed and leaned it against the Englishman's throat. His eyes narrowed with barely contained rage.

"Wrong answer . She's with me, you moron. Do you understand this, or will I have to explain myself differently, so that you surely get it?" Malfoy said in an almost affectionate tone, pushing the skin on the Englishman's neck harder with his wand. Hermione could see the self-confidence of her abuser slowly melting under Draco's gaze, full of blood-curdling hatred. "And now, I think, it's time to apologize to the lady, if you don't want unnecessary problems."

"No, Malfoy, that's enough! Just let him go. I don't need his apology!" recovering herself, Hermione grabbed his arm.

Draco shot her a hard look full of suppressed anger.

"Granger, for heaven's sake, don't bother me. I'm trying to resolve the issue, as they say, "in an amicable way"."

There was something in his eyes that silenced her for a while.

She glanced around nervously. There was no one around: everyone was dancing in the centre of the hall and didn't notice what was happening.

"I still don't hear an apology, bastard," Draco said to the Englishman again, raising his voice slightly.

Suddenly, his face was twisted with anger:

"Fuck you!"

He was about to spit when Malfoy whispered a spell with lightning speed, and the guy instantly began to choke.

Hermione grabbed Draco's shoulder in horror.

"Holy Merlin, Malfoy, what have you done to him?! Stop it now! He will suffocate!"

"Granger, you saw that I offered to resolve the issue in a nice way, but he didn't want to listen to me," Draco released the Englishman, allowing him to fall and crumple on the floor in a fit of asphyxiation.

Deeply shocked by the situation, Hermione froze with her mouth half-open, watching her abuser. She wanted to stop all this, but now she just couldn't utter a word.

Suddenly, the man tried to start talking:

"I apo...lo..."

Malfoy carefully squatted down beside him.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"I apologize!" already super red, he barely squeezed words out of himself, glaring at Draco.

"Oh no, my dear friend," Malfoy smiled unpleasantly, "You should apologize to her."

He pointed at Hermione.

The Englishman, with difficulty, looked up at her.

"I... I apologize!" he coughed and looked pleadingly at Malfoy.

"It's better, but let's ask the lady if she accepts your apology." Draco nodded patronizingly and turned inquiringly to Hermione.

"Of course yes, Malfoy!" she blurted out, stunned, starting to come to her senses. "Just remove this spell already!"

Everything that happened was like a bad dream.

Draco sighed with mock disappointment and, looking at the Englishman writhing on the floor, after a short pause, once again asked Hermione incredulously:

"Are you sure of that?"

"Yes!" she shouted, clenching her fists with her eyes widening in horror.

"Okay," Malfoy said to the young man again. "If I break the spell, do you swear that you will remain silent about everything that just happened here?"

"Yes..." he squeezed out in utero, pressing his hands to his throat. It seemed that he was about to pass out.

"Hope so. Otherwise, I will have to report the attempted rape to the resort administration, you understand?" he just nodded weakly, and Malfoy with sigh, pointed his wand at him and whispered a spell. Immediately after that, the Englishman helplessly sprawled on the floor, actively swallowing air with his lungs.

"And I swear, if you don't get out of this bar within one minute, I will continue our "conversation" with the same methods," Draco said coldly, casting a contemptuous glance at him.

The man glared at Malfoy, made a feeble attempt to get to his feet, but then collapsed back.

Hermione, who had been in a state of shock the whole time, glared at Draco.

"Damn it, Malfoy, you could have killed him!"

"And he could rape you. So, choose lesser of two evils, as people say..." hiding his wand behind his belt as if nothing had happened, Draco looked at her.

Hermione, casting a glance at the outstretched body of her abuser, and suddenly felt sick.

"I need to go outside," she said barely audibly and headed for the exit.

Draco followed her in silence, giving the Englishman one last kick.

Once outside, Hermione swiftly walked around the hut where the bar was and leaned her back against the damp wooden surface at the back of the building.

There was nobody around, only a wild beach ahead, and the scent of freshness in the air from the recent rain. Hermione was breathing the clean sea air into her lungs and felt a slight headache from the intake of a large amount of oxygen.

She turned her weary gaze to Malfoy. He stood right to her and, frowning slightly, looked at the raging sea.

Hermione, once again replaying what had just happened in her head, was surprised to find that she didn't feel even a drop of anger at Draco. On the contrary, she was suddenly flooded with gratitude for saving her.

Once again.

"Malfoy..." she called him softly.

He slowly turned an indifferent look at her, expressing absolutely nothing.

"Not that I approve your methods, but..." Hermione continued, frowning slightly, and turned to him. "Thank you."

Draco chuckled and looked away again.

"Don't bother, idiot has annoyed me since our arrival at the bar."

Hermione almost smiled, realizing that Malfoy was clearly trying to come up with an excuse for his action.

"I wonder why he annoyed you?" she asked without the sarcasm.

Draco shrugged vaguely, still not looking at her.

"His intentions. Just by the way he stared at you, you could guess what was on his mind."

After that, he suddenly froze, and Hermione realized that Draco had clearly said more than he intended.

Sighing sharply, she stared at him with wide open eyes. Was she imagining, or was there a note of jealousy in his voice?

Draco, realizing his mistake, twitched nervously and turned to her, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Granger, why you always get into all sorts of stories?! I've already feel like the fucking Potter, pulling you out of the shitty situations every time.I only need the scar on a forehead to complete the picture."

Malfoy tried desperately to look calm, relaxed like he didn't care, but Hermione was still staring at him in amazement and seeing what she hadn't noticed before: the vulnerability in his eyes from the fact that he... feel something .

Feel pity, despair, fear. After all, this feeling ruled him when he saved her from drowning?

Feel lust, desire, passion. She read it in his eyes when he kissed her? Feel interest, jealousy, desperate anger.

According to all the rules of his aristocratic nature, he simply didn't let himself to feel all this.

And suddenly she understood why he behaved like the ultimate bastard, why he rushed from one extreme to another.

He was ashamed of his weakness. After all, having all these feelings towards her was a true nonsense and weakness for a person who was forbidden to even think positively about people like her. About Mudbloods.

And although Malfoy changed a lot during the war, nevertheless, these foundations, hammered into his head for years by Lucius, couldn't disappear without a trace, leaving anything behind.

That is why he tried to convince her and at the same time himself that he doesn't care about everything that happened between them, but, in fact... Damn, how did she not notice before?!

Draco seemed to understand what she was thinking about. He looked at her warily and with a challenge, and his body was tense to the limit. He waited for her reaction and was ready to defend himself if necessary.

Hermione thought he was sure she's going to use this discovery against him. Stung him with words, trample, by telling the truth. Draco knew that now when she see that he was hurt, weak, crushed by his feelings, it meant that he was fucked.

But he forgot only one thing: they both are.

Both fell into the abyss of madness that gripped them two so suddenly, both were almost broken by what was happening between them, as soon as they were next to each other, and both still couldn't stop, moving towards destruction, pain, despair.

And now, they were both vulnerable. More than ever.

Hermione didn't know what she was doing.

Yielding to some sudden impulse, she closed the distance between them in just a few steps and, clasping his face with her palms, stood on her toes and pulled Draco to her. Sensing his closeness, she practically drowned in her, enjoying such a short, desired and at the same time painful moment. And only when her lips touched his lips, lingering only for a few seconds in a desperate, strong, hot kiss, she realized what she had done.

Opening her eyes sharply, Hermione backed away from Draco and pressed her hands to her mouth, watching his reaction with all her eyes.

Malfoy didn't move and didn't try to deepen their kiss as she snuggled up to him. On the contrary, his tense posture remained unchanged, and from the look, it was impossible to understand what he was feeling.

But suddenly something flashed in his eyes and he, taking his hands out of his pockets, took a confident step towards her.

"Granger..."

Hermione sighed impulsively and nervously stepped back, keeping a safe distance between them, in her opinion.

"I seem to have forgotten my jacket in the bar, I need to go back for it," in a trembling voice, she barely uttered the first thing that came to her mind, fearing the consequences of her impulsive act.

How dumb was she?!

"Granger..." Malfoy took another step.

"It could have been stolen for sure! And if so, then I need..."

Hermione swallowed nervously and backed away from Draco, who was persistently trying to close the distance between them.

"Granger, shut up."

His voice sounded harsh and she fell silent, suddenly frozen in place.

"Malfoy, don't…" she asked almost pleadingly, watching him move closer and closer to her.

There was so much in this request! After all, she knew that now she wouldn't be able to push him away, deny him, deny herself. She was too weak now.

Draco stopped almost right next to her. Hermione looked at him timidly and met the calm grey eyes,and there was so much... Pain? Regrets? Doom?

Malfoy smiled bitterly and slowly touched her face with his hand. Hermione sighed violently as he gently, barely perceptibly, ran his fingertips across her cheek, lightly brushing the corner of her mouth. This touch wasn't enough, it wasn't enough for her.

Her body fluttered and she turned her head slightly uncontrollably to meet his hand. Oh Merlin, how she now wanted to feel his hot embrace again, throwing her into the flame of desire, his passionate lips tormenting her in a fierce kiss, his demanding hands desperately squeezing her body. She wanted it so much that she couldn't respect herself for such an absurd, wrong, blatant desire, and was almost ready to snuggle up to him again because she knew, she knew for sure, knew for sure that Malfoy wanted this as much as she did.

But suddenly Draco's fingers disappeared from her face and it was over. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling the sharp pain of disappointment, and looked at him blankly.

Has he stopped?

Why did he stop?!

The answer was painfully simple.

"Don't, Granger. That's right, don't."

There was such bitterness in his words that Hermione involuntarily shrank from what she heard.

She felt completely helpless, crushed, wounded by her unsatisfied desire.

And she was almost ready to be angry with Draco for being stronger today.

That he could say no.

But, at the same time, she understood that they needed it, it was necessary to stop now so that later it would not be too late.

If it's not too late.

Hermione heard her own trembling voice as if from afar.

"So..we're good?"

It was the best she could think of now when her throat felt like a lump, and her body was strangely constrained from a feeling of hopelessness.

"I think so," Draco agreed slowly with a sigh.

He seemed to see right through her, and Hermione shyly looked away.

"Well, in that case, I need to pick up the jacket and..."

"Stop talking about your jacket, Granger. We both know you weren't wearing it," Malfoy said softly, slightly curling his lips in an ironic grin.

Hermione didn't know what to say.

It looks like the worst part ended and... Did they really resolved everything? And can stop the madness that is going on between them?

And Malfoy's words... Does it mean that he will no longer allow the two of them to drown in their strange and frightening desires? Can they hope that their relationship will return to its normal direction, perhaps in a more bearable form?

As if reading the question in her gaze, Draco calmly suggested, as if nothing had happened:

"Since we have already discussed everything... How about ending this difficult, but productive evening in solving problems with a last cocktail?"

He spoke again in his usual manner, probably trying to restore their lost ease of communication.

And Hermione, weakened by recent events, was now relieved to support Draco's dubious attempt.

"I didn't think I could agree to this, but..."

With these words, she timidly smiled at him and immediately, hiding her head, slipped past, heading for the entrance to the bar.

She had a lot of reasons to feel joy and relief at this moment when she seemed to have thrown off an old burden that was weighing on her more and more every day.

She didn't like what was going on between them, did she?

But this lump in her throat and the acute feeling of loss, disappointment, the emptiness from the realization that there would be nothing more between them, between her and Draco, didn't allow her to answer her dumb question "Yes".

*Buona sera, signore! Che volete ordinare? – (Italian) Good evening, senor! What would you like to order?

** Due "piccola morte", per favore! – (Italian) Two "little deaths", please

*** Un bicchiere per signorina? – (Italian) One glass for the signorina?

**** Sì, bella – (Italian) Yes, beautiful

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