That night Hermione went to bed with dancing figures in her head. Everything she did when she got home seemed to move with fluidity; as if it was going along to music that wasn't there. As she went to bed, her dreams were filled with silhouettes doing magnificent numbers. And at the end of them Draco had made his way into her dreamy solitude and was dancing with her.

That was the last thing to filter into her unconscious before waking up the next morning. She awoke to find a letter at the foot of her fireplace with her name on it and written in an unknown handwriting. When she had opened it however, she was more than surprised to find that it was from Maggie at the dance studio.

Dear Miss Granger,

I know you must be a bit surprised at receiving this letter from me as well as possibly wondering what this could be about. You should know that I have conducted many dancing sessions in my time, and there are very few times where someone sticks in my mind. You can imagine why, I suppose, with the turnout at each session. It's rather hard to pinpoint one exceptional person, but last night I was able to do just that.

I would like to discuss an opportunity with you, if you don't mind. Please, stop by the studio sometime today. It would be greatly appreciated.

-Magnolia Byrnes

"A bit surprised" was a bit of an understatement. Hermione was stuck on the words "one exceptional person" and was wondering desperately what Maggie could want to speak with her about.

Without wasting any more time, Hermione opted to skip out on breakfast, got dressed, and headed to the dance studio. The same silhouettes that appeared on the storefront window were there, but by their forms, she knew that neither shadow was Draco. Not that she was looking for him that is. In fact, if she was to see him she'd probably feel a bit embarrassed and self-conscious.

"Ah, you like to move bright and early, I see." Maggie said as Hermione entered the studio. "Follow me."

Hermione expertly avoided the dancers and followed Maggie into a back room where it seemed that she had recently made herself a cup of tea. "Would you like a cup as well?"

In all honesty Hermione was dying for some tea, but she politely turned the offer down and watched as Maggie sat down and used her wand to cool her tea some. After taking a sip, Maggie set the cup back down on her desk and cupped her hands on the table.

"You've had dancing lessons before." Maggie smiled. Hermione hoped she wasn't blushing and nodded.

"But they were so long ago. Ballet and a touch of Ballroom, but nothing more than that."

"I see… And I see that you're modest, too. But I must say that that ballet and a touch of Ballroom has given you a wonderful dancing posture. Tell me, have you heard of the Regis Wallaby Dancing Competition that's held every year in Amsterdam?"

Hermione shook her head no, and Maggie continued. "Well then, as the name implies, it's a dancing competition. But it's only for couples that consist of a dancing professional and one who's not. Miss Granger, I'd like you to consider dancing with Draco Malfoy in this competition."

"…Oh, Maggie," Hermione was taken aback. She placed a hand on her chest out of surprise and attempted several times to give a proper reply, but failed miserably. "I'm honored really, but I don't think… Malfoy and I have… Our history… Have you spoken to him about this idea of yours?"

"He was the one that named you to be his partner." Maggie grinned mischievously; the left side of her lips curling upwards in a teasing manner. "Draco was impressed with you last night. And I don't think you could've missed how others dashed out of your way to give you the proper room to dance."

"I didn't miss it, no." Hermione said sheepishly. She took a deep breath and rubbed her left arm up and down. She was no dancer. She simply liked to do it every now and again. What did she know about competitions? Yes, the competition Maggie mentioned was meant for those in Hermione's position, but to be partnered with Draco? It was bad enough that they were terribly suited personality-wise, but his dancing technique was…perfect. Hermione wanted to do nothing to take away from his shine, and surely having her for a partner would do just that.

"Maggie, I-"

"Before you say no," Maggie interrupted. "Speak to Draco about it. I think it would help ease your decision. He usually eats breakfast here. If you go down this little hall and enter the fourth door to your left, you should find him."

Hermione nodded and slowly went in the direction Maggie spoke of. When she finally reached the fourth door, she wished she could've turned back and pretended that she had never even spoken to Maggie. But as she poked her head in she found that Draco was in fact there, and she couldn't take back her peek. He had already spotted her and it would've looked stupid not to continue on.

"Can I sit?" Hermione asked. Draco nodded and motioned to the chair in front of him. Sighing, she went over to the round table and sat down. She stared at the tabletop for a solid fifteen seconds before finally deciding to speak. "Why me..? Out of all the choices out there, I was the best you could come up with? If you don't mind me saying, it screams desperation."

Draco smiled. It was a cross between something genuine and taunting, as if he was having trouble deciding which one it should be. But instead of saying something degrading, he came out with something praising. "I know a good dancer when I see one."

"How did you even become one?"

"…Anger management…"

Hermione stared at him bemused. Draco shrugged and took a deep breath as he crossed his arms. "I did a lot of stupid things when I was a kid, Granger. You know very well more than half of them. One of those things landed me in front of a Ministry official, and as punishment he ordered anger management classes."

"And it landed you here?" Hermione gently laughed. "How on earth does dancing control anger?"

"As someone who detested my father, the official thought it would be funny. Aside from that, whether you realize it or not, you need control in order to dance." Draco said plainly. "In fact I'm more than sure that you don't realize it. You have control. You have form. And I think that you can help me to win."

"Malfoy, I-"

"And as an added bonus, you can run to Potter and Weasley and tell them that nearly a decade down the line since we've graduated from Hogwarts I've turned into a ballerina."

Hermione laughed out loud and put a hand over her mouth to calm herself down. Draco had clearly heard what Ginny had said the previous night, and now, feeling a bit defeated, Hermione slowly nodded. "Okay, Malfoy. But let me ask you this, what do I get out of this whole thing?"

Draco took a second to think. After a little while he began to smile. "I'll make you a deal. If we win, I'll answer that question."

"But wait, what sense does that make?" Hermione questioned, but Draco merely cupped his hands behind his head.

"As much sense as the two of us dancing together," He answered and proceeded to tell her that they should meet every day at two in the afternoon.

Hermione went home perplexed and in awe of what she had gotten herself into. She had just agreed to enter into a dancing competition with Draco Malfoy of all people. Why had she done it? Maybe it was an innate desire to become one of those dancers; a small-time dream that happened to land at her feet. Or maybe it was simply because Draco had asked. To have someone like him needing something from her…it was a rarity. And maybe also Hermione wanted to feel what his talent was. She had seen it enough from those days gazing at the studio and from the display he had put on during the free session. But to know that she'd be the center of all his concentration..? Now that was something, and she had succumbed to the opportunity.

The next day Hermione arrived at the studio a little before two. As she walked in she smiled at the dancing pair who was doing what she recognized as the Vietnamese Waltz. It was Ava and someone else, another professional dancer. They looked perfect together and moved with such grace that it was rather unimaginable. Hermione silently cheered them on as they danced, but she stopped herself as she perceived Draco at the far end of the studio, leaning up against the wall and watching them with what could only be called as anger.

Immediately Hermione had been taken back to the days when Draco was nothing more than a prat and nothing close to being civil. He almost seemed to be snarling as his heavy gaze lingered on Ava and her dancing partner, but quickly his disposition changed as Hermione came into his line of view. He almost seemed relieved to have something to distract himself with and smiled as she came near.

"Punctual as I expected you'd be."

"Yes, well, punctuality is engraved in me I suppose." Hermione shrugged girlishly. Draco nodded to her and said that they'd work in a private room in the back. He led the way there and soon they found themselves completely out of earshot of the music from the front of the studio.

Where they were was complete solitude. It was a rectangular room with mirrors for walls. It was also densely quiet. All Hermione could hear was the sound of hers and Draco's shoes as they took their steps –more so hers than his because, at Draco's request, she was wearing pumps in order to get used to dancing in heels.

And now, already feeling subconscious about the sound her shoes were making, Hermione was feeling even more so as she stripped herself of her coat and set it on the floor.

Dancing attire is key...

That's what Draco had said before she had left him the day before. He had directed her to a shoppe in order to get clothes that suit a dancer and told her to get whatever she thought she would need and to "put it under his name." Naturally Hermione bought as little clothing as possible so as not to run up his tab. Currently she was wearing a leotard; a black one with straps instead of sleeves that fit her body as though it was painted on. For added comfort she had a light pink skirt on as well that matched her pumps. Now that she thought about it, Hermione felt as though she looked like someone who had put much too much thought into her outfit and was now a tad embarrassed about it.

Sighing, Hermione set her hands on her hips and turned to Draco who had been staring at her. She huffed and egged him on. "What?"

"Nothing… You just look like a dancer."

Hermione smiled. "Well, that was the point, wasn't it?"

Draco smiled back and then nodded. "Yes. Yes, it was. And before we get started, we have to discuss one or two things first."

Two chairs were conjured in order for them to sit down. Once they were properly seated, Draco asked her a simple question. "What's your favorite dance?"

"The Waltz,"

"I could've guessed. You see, most often than not, a person's favorite dance reflects their personality. The Waltz is simple and classic. It's for those who may be the reserved type, and who don't mind expressing how they feel with others. It suits you."

"What's your favorite dance?" Hermione asked. Draco began to smirk and he rubbed his hands together contentedly.

"Tango… It's impulsive. Simple as that…"

"It can't simply be impulsive." Hermione argued. "There's a lot more than meets the eye to the Tango than just impulsivity."

Draco cocked a brow at her. "Was that a compliment you just gave me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and hastily said no. "I was commenting on the dance. Not you, Malfoy."

"But that's what I'm trying to get across to you. There's no such thing as just a dance and just a dancer. There're many things that define a person, Granger. And if you're a dancer, music and dance define you. The Tango defines me, and the Waltz defines you. And now that we're on that topic, what do you make of it?"

"Make of what?"

"Our dance preferences,"

Hermione bit her lower lip as a thought passed through her and then she stared back at Draco. "I think they're two dances that are on completely different ends of the spectrum. Much like we are,"

Draco nodded in agreement. "We're on different ends alright. And we have to choose a dance that suits us both. As dancing partners we're not two different people. The dance we choose defines us just as individual preferences define the individual. What do you know of the Paso Doble?"

Hermione shook her head. "I mean, I've heard of it, but nothing more than that."

"Well, I'll tell you this: it's one of the hardest dances to master. It's fueled by anger and seriousness. Every move is precise. It's not like the Waltz where if you make a subtle mistake, it can be waved off as something done on purpose. And it's not like the Tango where almost anything goes. The Paso Doble is strict. It's fierce. And it's flawless."

"And that's what you think we are?" Hermione held in a laugh and shook her head in disbelief. "You think we're flawless-?"

"Flawlessness comes from technique." Draco said firmly. He had stood and took out his wand in order to produce music in the room. "When I think of us I think of our history. And all I see from our history is anger and hatred. That's what we are. That's what we've always had. And that's why we can pull it off.

'For this dance, Granger, I'm counting on one thing and that's for you to hate me."