I had so much fun writing this one too... My Magzillasaurus beta-read this for you also!
Chapter Thirteen
The fact that they were absent for more than a half hour was ignored.
Also ignored, the satisfied look on both their faces, like cats that got to the cream.
Additionally ignored, the arm Draco draped over Hermione's shoulder upon return, or he pushing her chair back, according to the etiquette. Out of nowhere, two plates with pie appeared, the heating charms were recast, and everyone began to eat, leaving the previous subject to float in the air and, and guess what? Also ignored.
"Granger, a question. Do muggles dance in public places, or did you and your mum only dance at home?"
Pansy's question was a safe icebreaker, and Hermione answered with pleasure. "We have pubs and bars where we drink and dance."
Blaise was entirely interested, "Oh, just like that? You go to this place and you…"
"You look for an empty table, order a drink and dance when the beat pleases you, yes." The answer came between bites, this pie was one Hermione would do again at home, now she knew a decent recipe. "My mum and dad took me to one or two, also to a place where they do quizzes."
Daphne had finished as first, "Quizzes?"
"Well, you know, questions about movies, or music… let me think, imagine a quiz night about Quidditch."
Ron spoke with his mouth full, "We need that!"
"Be my guest, Ron. I'm not organising that…"
Harry was shaking his head, "You're not the person to do it, you hate the sport."
"Why did you watch it then, Hermione?" Draco couldn't comprehend the idea of Hermione in the stands supporting, a witch that hated the sport. The fact he addressed her by her given name, wasn't lost on the others either.
"For the moral support. There was this annoying seeker on the green team, that kept pushing Harry off of his broom. While I boo'ed at the git, I cheered for my buddy, like a good friend." Her shoulder rose in a typical Hermione shrug. Harry loved the jab, Draco silently promised revenge at a later time.
"Aside from those q&a's that give my brain a headache up front, you can really go to a pub and dance?"
"It's Thursday today, yes, nearly everywhere. I know a place, called Amber Bar in Downtown Muggle London." Her eyes ran over all the faces around the table, "You want to go?" All nods, "How many are we?" She counted heads quickly, "Let me call them upfront, to be sure there's room for our group."
"You mean owl, right Granger?" Theo corrected her, Luna's face lit with the prospect of dancing and damn if he wouldn't give her the pleasure. At the moment he felt jealous of his best friend Draco, who had clearly dipped in the cream bowl.
Harry smirked, "No, she really means to call them. Use the mobile for it. Do you have the number?"
Hermione was already calling the enquiries for the correct telephone number, taking notes of the digits the operator dictated. Moments and a second phone call later, she was beaming, "We're lucky today. There was a late cancellation, and they have a free booth for us. As soon as you want to leave…"
"Muggle London, where precisely, Hermione?"
"Harry, it's not far from Aldgate." Luckily they both knew an apparition point, not far away from the area.
-oOo-
The interior was a cultural shock to the majority, followed by the number of people dancing in party outfits with colourful wigs and boas.
"I forgot to tell you, they are holding this throwback party with music from the 80's, as you can see from the outfits." Hermione sought forgiveness, sheepishly.
"Granger, do you have any understanding of what they are wearing?"
"Some Pansy. Remember, I was born in '79, by the time I joined you in Hogwarts first year, the dress code had changed. But if we play this right, we can improve ours with the flick of a wand, right?"
Daphne suggested, "Can we use the ladies room?"
With almost military precision, the girls followed in line Hermione's lead, the door magically locked against Muggle intrusion.
"I want a colourful tutu dress like that bint upstairs in her flashy pink." Pansy knew what she wanted, Luna making her wish to happen seconds later. The result was a small fitting dress with large letterings, neon green fishnet gloves, leg-warmers in flashy pink and an oversized zebra head bow. A rainbow of colours.
"Hermione, I saw a woman with that bathing suit over skinny pants…"
"You mean a leotard with leggings and the legwarmers. Which colour, Ginny?"
"Flashy." Hermione knew just which to use. Seconds later, Ginny wiggled around in black and red leo printed bodysuit, flashy green leggings, white leg-warmers and purple heels.
"Red, change my shoes too, will you. I want something like yours…" All eyes turned to Hermione, the last one to switch, as Daphne was similarly dressed as Pansy, but less flashy coloured. Hermione chose for a fancy retro dress, with small straps, tutu skirt, and a huge lace bow on the top, a bit of a Madonna look. The fishnet tights and gloves finished the outfit. Luna went for a let's get physical dressing, crop top and leggings included, in every flashy colour she could think of.
The men changed into everyday denim and shirts, but slack-jawed at the unusual sight the women formed upon entrance. Theo asked Harry quietly to change his outfit into something that would match Luna's.
Harry side-eyed the witches' choices, "You're sure about that?"
"I don't want her to feel out of place, please, Potter." Harry demanded a silent confirmation but complied by changing Theo's mainstream clothes into a horrendous coloured tracksuit. Hideous, but who was Harry to deny him? Luna brightened up immediately.
Hermione whispered, "A match made in the heaven of the eighties." She didn't want to offend, but it was ghastly. "It's like he's a bum…"
"This is not the Theo we know." Daphne was stunned.
"Granger, you told me a few weeks ago, we do everything for love…" Pansy pointed at the two, who were giggling like teenagers, joining the dancing floor to bounce at the tune of Whitney's I want to dance with somebody. Theo was completely off the beat but Luna, in her own dreamy way, succeeded into dancing with grace. Pansy finished, "This looks like love, to me…"
"If you ask me to change into such an outfit, the deal is off." Draco admired Hermione's choice, the net stockings giving her legs that extra long look. Despite their little thing earlier, he felt a new wave of arousal rise.
"Which deal?"
"You, me, our little joint-venture that we still have to discuss the terms of."
"Ohwa, Malfoy. Hold your hippogriff, we're not discussing anything at the moment."
"I know, Granger. But, after next week, we will."
"Someone is certain of himself… what if next week I see another wizard that appeals to my...taste?"
"Repeat those words, and I'll have to bend you over my lap and teach you some manners…" His grey eyes spitfire, "You're mine, witch."
"There are two ways to argue with a witch. Neither of them works, sweetie. Pans, lets hit the dance floor!" She received a salute from the witch, while Draco was still recovering from her witty comeback.
Harry patted him on the back, probably with more force than needed, "Some things might change eh Malfoy, but others don't…"
-oOo-
"Granger!" Pansy felt like a fish out of water, "How do I dance this?"
"Close your eyes." The other girl followed promptly, surprising Hermione with the trust she received. "Now let your body swing."
Lionel Richie's All night long barked from the speakers. Reluctantly, Pansy shoved from left to right, testing the waters. Her hand was grabbed by a stranger, also in a hideous tracksuit. "Let me do the honours." A light pull later, and Pansy was spinning around the dancing floor, panicked glances quickly morphing into delighted ones. The man knew how to shake it and was teaching her the basics, alright.
On the side, Ron was getting redder than his hair. "What kinda wizard are you if you stand by idly and see your woman be seduced by the next loser?" Hoping to earn some points later from his witch, Draco pushed the ginger head into the dancing floor. "You owe me one now, Weasel."
The push made Ron bump into the said stranger, and, using the momentum, he glared deadly at the man, "She's taken, buzz off."
"Hey, I was having fun…" With her two hands, Pansy pushed into Ron's chest, pouting.
"No bum puts his paws on my girl." It came out braver than he felt, this dancing thing was so out of his league. Paying close attention to his best friend, who was spinning Ginny expertly around the room, he copied the moves, alas as clumsy as could be. Harry noticed it, slowed down his pace and nearly gave a step-by-step guide. Pansy wasn't stupid, but with her nose facing the adorable way Ron copied Harry - focus on full power - it forced her to bite back a snide remark and actually follow Ginny's steps; after all, she knew as much about dancing to the groovy sound, as the wizard in her arms.
Pansy's previous dancing partner sought a way to steal her back; however, the woman made sure it remained only a thought.
Draco had more feeling for a rhythm - his obligatory, yet wholeheartedly hated, classical dancing lessons turned out to be more useful than ever. Not that he would thank his parents for the fact, he had cursed them for it, multiple times in the past.
Also, he paid attention to the blokes around him, picking a move or two, and as the song bled into Dancing in the dark, he snaked Hermione into his circle and shook - or tried to bounce a better description - his hips at the up-tempo beat. She laughed at him, but dutifully showed him the mechanics of swinging your hips decently.
Expertly, he swung her over the floor, pulled her back twirling, arms coming around her frame to press her back against his chest. In sync with the beat, she wiggled her hips against his, slithering down and up again. "You're playing with fire, witch."
"I'm not afraid of getting burned." Releasing herself, Hermione joined the few single dancers in the arm swinging moves and thumping with the knees, as she remembered the Boss's performance on one of many dancing clips. Hair flew everywhere, smoothly, as free as she felt. Draco just stood there, marvelling at her joy, and at the same time, stunned about who she turned out to be compared to who he thought her to be.
The DJ recessed the uptempo by inserting a slow, for the lovers among the audience. Arms surrounded necks, hands held onto waists, faces leaned against shoulders, breathes mingling in sync with heartbeats.
The one couple as if they did nothing else all day long, regardless if it was, or not, their very first time, notwithstanding if their friendship was years old; the other clumsily finding a pace, uneasy. To the point that the woman took control and became the leader.
A pair danced in their familiar way, following the trust they in each other, after years of sharing love and suffering.
And then, you had the couple discovering their connection in multiple realms; the physical plus its indisputable attraction, the sense that his arms around her felt safe and acquainted. Or the emotional, feelings forcing them to readjust their beliefs, their previous preconceptions; to push the past into the history and look at what the present showed them. They were two pieces of a puzzle, her Yin to his Yang.
Between Draco and Hermione, there wasn't even room to breathe. His hand roamed over her spine, caressing a globe before returning to her shoulder blades and repeating it all over, soothing, entrancing. The other guided her hips into motion. His warm breath tickled in her ear, every time he released his lips from kissing her neck softly, to inhale her hair scent. She danced, eyes closed, arm curled around his neck, a palm against his chest, feeling the powerful heartbeat beneath her skin. The world faded around them, the lights merely a soft glow.
Hermione rose her head to meet his face, gaze wandering through his lips, up to his eyes. A special glow of grey, almost liquid. He lowered his head and kissed her. At first, a light touch, followed by an intenser colliding of lips, the dancing was wholly forgotten. Hands buried in blond tresses or in brown curls.
"Come home with me, Hermione."
"Draco…"
"Please… I don't want to part."
"There's still the p-"
"The pageant is merely a formality. I know what I want. Rather who I want. So do you." Draco had pulled her into a dark nook, away from the rest, "Why wait?"
"If you want me so badly, then you can wait a week longer." Her head was spinning. She knew it, he was right. But he wanted to hit a higher gear, and it was going too fast for her.
"Woman, you drive me nuts." He brought their foreheads together, "I can wait, but I don't want to. I don't want to go another fucking week until I get to see you again. You want to wait with getting in bed, fine. If it really has to. But...I. Want. To. See. You." Draco pushed her against the wall, kissing her passionately, both panting in need at the end. "Hermione…"
"I didn't plan this, Draco." Her brain and her heart fought dearly, her voice raising in its volume as evidence of her struggle. "I didn't plan on having to get married as if the earth was going to end tomorrow and this is my last chance. I didn't plan on finding in you, the person that I thought to be everything but my other half. And I definitely didn't plan on falling in love so fast." She took in a sharp breath, realising she said more than she wanted. Feeling caged, she pushed him away, but he stopped her, pulling her right back in.
"At what point did you think that I had it all planned?" His eyes were piercing into hers, "I was taught to hate you, witch. As it turns out from this little idea of yours and your blind talks, we have more in common than I could anticipate. Do you know how relieved I was to hear your voice the second time?" He couldn't make up his mind, strangle her or kiss her senseless. "You're not the only one who's universe has been shaken to its core. Nor the sole person to fall in love either. Woman…" Kiss her senseless won.
She moaned into his mouth.
"Stop with your noises, or I'll rip a hole in this stockings of yours and fuck you right here." The shaking of his hands, the give away of how much self-control he was using. "You win, princess. You win." Her swollen lips tempted him once more to take possession. "One week. Not a day longer."
"Better shake those hips at that pageant runaway. Consider it foreplay."
"Woman, foreplay is when my tongue is lapping those delicious juices straight out of its well. And not a moment before."
Hermione whimpered.
He won this round.