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Tango	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 18416 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I will not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
Hey, all! Thanks for tuning in! Can I just gasp at the 800+ reviews this story has received thus far? Oh my goodness! Thank you!
Get ready for all of the feels these next few chapters. They're outlined and ready to be written, so just...get ready. Omg, all the Dramione to happen, and I hope I give it to you in a realistic way. That's my goal for this fic. A realistic approach to falling in love and whatnot.
As always, LightofEvolution and LondonsLegend are my rocks with this fic. They brainstormed with me all morning about the upcoming chapters, and can I just say how excited I am for you to read the next one? SO EXCITED! Of course, beta love to LondonsLegend. Alpha loves to both, though I'm still not convinced that I like the term...
~A.
Oh, PS: Did I mention we did it!? Tango took first place in the Spring 2017 Dramione Awards for "Best Romance" ! Thank you to everyone who voted! It means the world to me.
Andante: MUSIC
adjective & adverb
1.
(Especially as a direction) in a moderately slow tempo.
(scene cont.)
There it was—the underlining problem separating Draco from his obligations. He'd kissed Hermione Granger, and worse? He liked it. More than liked it, in fact. He loved it. Her mouth had felt like a perfect fit against his own, and she'd tasted of spearmint—smelled of fresh ink and starlight. Or, at least, he imagined it was starlight, because he could almost see it behind his eyelids the moment their lips touched. She was intoxicating, breathtaking, and completely, utterly not his. Not even remotely.
And the final nail in his perpetual coffin? He was the taken one—not emotionally, but physically. He'd yet to break it off with Astoria officially, and here he was, snogging it up with someone other than his betrothed.
"Hermione," he whispered, but she was already gone out the bathroom door. Something inside of Draco snapped, and he lurched forward, yanking the door open and tearing down the hall. "Hermione!"
He found her retreating down the staircase, heading toward the thick, French doors that would allow her to cross the border into Apparation territory. Once that happened, she'd be gone, and he'd be destroyed.
"Granger!" he shouted firmly, his hand gripping the top of the banister. Her arm was outstretched to one of the doors, but she paused, turning around to face him. There was a moment of quiet tension between them before Draco realized he might actually want to speak. "...Don't go."
"I've already told you," she said, "you need to talk to Astoria."
"I will," he agreed at once.
She seemed to consider his words, but her hand stayed on the doorknob. "Will you?"
"I said I will," he nearly growled, frustrated. "What more do you want from me?"
Something in her eyes betrayed her next set of words. "Nothing." Her arm shook - the one extended toward the door. "You shouldn't have-"
"I know."
"I know what Astoria did with Ron was awful, but-"
"I know, Granger-"
"Do you?" she snapped. "I will not be some...some pawn!" Her eyes cut deep into his soul.
"Is that what you think you are?" he asked, utterly flabbergasted. He wished he could sober up quicker, but this wasn't his home, and freshly brewed sobering-elixirs weren't at his disposal. His fingers clung to the banister for dear life, and he knew he couldn't dare attempt a walk down these steps without falling flat on his face. Admitting defeat, he wobbled down to sit his arse at the top of the staircase and peer down at her.
"Wasn't that what that was?" Her voice held so much doubt - nearly as much as the doubt he felt about how this talk could possibly end on a good note.
"If I fancied a rebound shag, don't you think I could have done it with someone less...prude?"
"Prude?"
"Difficult."
"Difficult?"
"I'm sorry, did my lips on yours produce a stunningly complex repeating-hex? Or does the greatest witch of her age have an issue forming her own thoughts?"
It wasn't the thing to say, and yet it was. Hermione's hand retracted back down to her side, and she spun on her heels, marching all the way to the bottom of the stairs. "For your information, you would never get a rebound shag from me, Draco Malfoy."
Despite himself, he smirked. "Don't I know it…"
"Oh...go fall in a tub of flobberworms!"
Rubbing the side of his stubbled cheek, Draco all out laughed. "Is that what you think passes for an insult?"
"I'm trying to control myself from telling you where you can shove it."
"By all means, don't repress yourself."
"Get bent!"
"That's more like it!"
He relished in the way Hermione tapped her foot repeatedly, trying so hard to contain herself before she finally threw her hands up in the air as she rolled her eyes. "This, obviously, is getting us nowhere. - Why did you kiss me?"
Draco, still highly intoxicated, blurted out, "Because I felt like it." It was harder to admit he thought her pretty, vivacious, and all around enjoyable.
"You felt like it? How old are you? Five?"
My, but she had a mouth, didn't she? "I dunno why," he whispered, his head swimming. "Could we talk about this when I'm...when I'm sober?"
"That's it, isn't it? You kissed me because you're drunk."
"No."
"No?"
"I said bloody no, Hermione."
"Then why? And because you 'felt like it' isn't an answer!"
"I like you, alright?" He threw her a scathing look as he tossed his hands up in the air. "Because I think you're smart, and funny, and witty, and you don't fucking judge me for the stupid shit I do. Well, I mean, you do, but you don't look down on me for it! And you," he took a moment to burp, but discretely (he was drunk, but he wasn't a Neanderthal), "make me feel like I'm worth something."
"Says the man who is worth more than five times his weight in gold."
"Money isn't everything, Granger. You, of all people, know that." He stared at her like she was the only one worth staring at in the world. "You see past my money and my status, and you see me for the obnoxious, handsome-"
"-Pretentious-"
"-Man I am. And I see you."
There was a pause where they both considered his words. Hermione tapped her foot nervously, eyeing the door. "Even if you weren't drunk," she began, "and even if I believed you, which I don't…"
"Astoria," he finished.
Hermione nodded. "Yes."
"I'll talk to her."
"See that you do."
"And after I do," he tried, "I think we should talk, too." He added quickly, "We shouldn't end this on a sour note."
"A sour note. Is that what you call kissing me? Sour?"
"I think I'd call it rather delightful, actually."
A flare of pink scattered up her neck and settled into her cheeks as Hermione backed away from the staircase. "I'll see you around, Draco. Do be careful on the stairs?" And with that, she waved softly and headed back to the door, this time gone for good. It took everything in Draco not to crawl back into bed and sleep the day away, but Hermione's words hung gently around his psyche, ushering him to get on with his day. He had lots to do.

Stage left: Hermione Granger
Setting: Her bathroom, twenty minutes later
Hermione's emotions were all over the place when she arrived back home and took a look at herself in the bathroom mirror. She splashed water on her face, hoping it might have some effect, but her eyebrows seemed to be sewn together in a permanent crease on her forehead. "Damn it, Hermione. Get it together." She slapped her cheeks, checked her pulse, did a few awkward jumping jacks around the bathroom, all to burn off the adrenaline in her system, but none of it worked. She was as hyped up as humanly possible, and it had all been because of a damned kiss.
He was a good kisser, though, I'll give him that. Wait, what was she thinking? She slapped her cheek again for good measure and scrambled for her cell-phone in the next room. Her fingers pressed the buttons with confidence. Two rings, and he answered. "Harry!"
"Hey, Hermione. Everything alright?"
"Is Ginny with you?"
"Er, yeah, I was about to head into work, but she's right here. Anything wrong? Do you wanna talk about it?" You know, with me? She could picture the words in his head perfectly.
"Do you want to hear anything about Draco Malfoy?" she asked, knowing what his reaction would be.
"Gin, the phone's for you. - We can talk about it later, right Hermione?"
Smiling in knowing, she nodded, even though he couldn't see on the other end. "Yes, Harry. Later, then."
There was a scrambling of sound, and then Ginny's voice was ready for action. "What have you stepped in this time?"
"Can you come over?"
"That bad hmm? I'll be over there in a pinch."
"Thanks," Hermione sighed. "Oh, and Gin? Don't forget a bottle of wine."
Ginny didn't miss a beat. "Red or white?"
Center Stage: Draco and Astoria
Setting: Greengrass Estate, Astoria's bedroom
There were already newspapers piled up on the edge of the bed waiting for him when Draco arrived at the Greengrass Estate and walked into Astoria's bedroom in search of her. Mister and Missus Greengrass were away on travel, but the floo was always welcome to Draco to use, and so he had. He could hear Astoria sniffling, but he found no trace of her. Glancing over at the newspapers, he picked them up and noticed the dates were for all the days he'd tucked himself away. The earliest headline read: 'Could Zabini Industries have a new heir? Daphne Zabini spotted with possible morning sickness in Hogsmeade!' Draco scoffed, turning his attention to the second day. 'Astoria Greengrass spotted without engagement ring! Is the Wizarding World's favorite couple no more?' The third headline was a photographer snapping a quick picture of Hermione and Weasley outside of Flourish and Blotts, along with mild speculation. Honestly, didn't the papers have anything better to report on these days?
The final paper, today's headline, read, 'Retraction: Hermione Granger confirms her ties to War-Hero Ronald Weasley are strictly platonic.'
'Hmph,' he thought. 'Figures she'd set the record straight.'
More sobbing filled his ears, and Draco followed the crying all the way to the walk-in closet. Gently, he turned the handle and discovered Astoria, surrounded by hundreds of scarves. Now, hundreds might have been an exaggeration, but only by a few; Astoria sat cross legged on the floor in her bathrobe. Her nose was red and runny, her eyes were puffy and pink, and her lower lip kept quivering as she picked up scarf after scarf, observing it before tossing it some way or another. She hardly took notice of Draco until he rapped his knuckles on the door.
Quickly, her eyes darted to him, and she looked somewhat like a thestral caught in carriage lights. "D-Draco?"
Draco wasn't entirely sure what to say, so he simply nodded, stepped inside, closed the door, and sat on the floor with her amongst the scarves.
Astoria sniffled. "I can't find my yellow one. You know, the one my grandmother knitted for Christmas last year? I've looked everywhere, but I can't seem to find…" She tossed a few scarves over each other, sifting through them. "I just bought this yellow skirt, you see, and it's windy outside...if I can't find the scarf…" Her eyes were distant - lost. She didn't look like she had a clue what she was doing. "I can't find it, Draco, and if I can't find it-"
"-Tori," Draco began, but he was cut off.
"I need to find this scarf," she insisted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It's very important I do."
Understanding that this need wasn't something that actually had to do with a scarf, Draco nodded and began trailing his eyes around the room. They came to rest right under her left foot. "Right there," he pointed out. Astoria's eyes followed, and she reached underneath herself and pulled out the scarf from under her. A slow, quiet smile spread across her face.
"There it is," she whispered, patting it. "I thought I'd lost it." She glanced around at all of the scattered scarves. "Damn it."
"That's what magic is for," he offered, reaching inside his blazer for his wand. Astoria shook her head, and he paused. "Or not?"
"I don't want magic right now," she stated simply. Her eyes narrowed. "Where have you been?" There was less anger and more hurt in her tone, causing Draco to flush under his collar. He didn't like making women cry.
"I needed time…" he answered, scooting closer to her and reaching out to grab her hands and rub his thumbs across her palms. "To think."
Astoria remained quiet for a time, letting him soothe her. "And?" she asked finally. "Did you?"
"Did I what?"
"Think."
Slowly, Draco nodded. He'd done a lot of not thinking, too. Most of his thinking had actually been done on the way to find her this morning. He knew there was nothing he could say that could justify the kiss between himself and Hermione this morning. Telling Astoria now would do nothing but rub salt in a much deeper wound than just surface kisses. "I did." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I should have talked this over with you sooner."
Astoria snorted. "That's a vast understatement, Draco."
"I know."
"What I did - kissing Ronald-"
"It's fine," he lied. Hearing her use Weasley's first name did jealous, grinding things to his insides. Then he admitted the truth. "Well, it's not fine, but...I'm over it. Sort of."
Astoria blinked at him. "What does that even mean?"
An airy laugh escaped his throat as he met her eye-to-eye. "Honestly? I'm not even sure of that myself. But I know I can't hold it against you. Not really." Not after he'd been secretly pining over a woman that wasn't his. Not after pushing Astoria away at every possible turn. "We, obviously, have...some issues."
"Another vast understatement," whispered Astoria.
"Kissing Weasley...did you like it?" he asked. The tips of his ears burned, but he refused to give into that jealousy which called to him deep within his spirit. Slytherins were notorious for secretly not wanting to share, and often they would bottle it up until it was too late. Draco was no exception, however, he knew he had no place to water this seed of jealousy; not when he was at fault for it all.
"What kind of question is that?" she snapped.
"Answer the damn question."
"I...no."
"You're lying."
"If this is your way to an apology, you're heading in the wrong direction."
"Who said I was here to apologize?"
"Well, aren't you?"
They both glared at one another. Draco could feel his anger boiling, and he released a heavy sigh, trying to ease it. He rubbed his eyes with shaky hands and chewed on the inside of his cheek, pensive. Then, he set his sights on her again, this time with a clear head. "Yes…" he admitted. "I am."
A minute dragged by that turned into two. Astoria finally broke down. "Well?"
"It isn't exactly easy, Astoria. Merlin - you want an apology? Fine, here it is. I'm sorry for not wanting to be babied. I'm sorry for not knowing what the bloody difference is between eggshell and ivory. I'm sorry I don't like to open up, or that I kept secrets - which weren't mine to tell, by the way - or that I love you but I'm not sure…" His voice died away, as did his courage. It extinguished like a candle, leaving him feeling cold and helpless.
"Say it," she whispered.
"I can't."
"You can't, or you won't?"
"I don't know what I feel, Astoria. Alright? I don't know if this love between us is healthy or completely insane. And I don't know what kind of love it is."
"...I liked it," Astoria admitted. "The kiss. It was...nice. Like there weren't any burdens or responsibilities. I could just...kiss. And be kissed. If that makes any sense."
Draco nodded. He knew the feeling exactly. "So...where do we go from here?"
"I'm not sure."
"That makes two of us." He smirked, trying to lighten the mood. Astoria gradually let a soft smile form on her face.
"Obviously, we love each other," she said. "I don't think the kind of love we share is so easily snuffed out. But maybe...maybe we need to take time to realize what kind of love that is, exactly. And if it's the marrying kind."
Almost immediately, Draco's shoulders felt lighter. He couldn't explain it, but it was euphoric and energizing. A part of him felt horrible for feeling this way, but the other parts of him were already contemplating what the next steps were. "A break."
"A break."
It sounded too good to be true. "I'm sorry, Tori. I never meant to hurt you. I should have told you about Daphne and the baby, I just...I guess I got caught up in my friendships. I forgot we were supposed to be partners in this."
"And maybe the reason you don't see us that way is why this break will be good for us," she said quietly, sniffling so loud Draco was sure she might choke on her phlegm. He offered out one of her scarves, and Astoria shot him a disapproving glare in return.
"What?" he smirked. "It's ugly."
She pondered the scarf, took it, and shrugged. "I suppose it is." She blew her nose into it, and they both laughed.
"Gross."
"What? You're the one who told me to do it!"
"I didn't actually think you would."
"Bugger off, Draco."
She tossed the scarf at him, and Draco threw the contaminated thing across the closet, making gagging sounds in the back of his throat. This sort of friendship was what made him love Astoria in the first place, but the thought of walking down the aisle...it did nothing but make his stomach turn. He needed to find out what that meant.
"Right...what do we tell the press?" asked Astoria. "I'm sure you haven't missed the latest headlines anticipating our impending doom?" She dabbed at her eyes with another scarf.
"We tell them nothing out of the ordinary until we know for sure," he answered, clenching and unclenching his fists as he thought. "We assure them that our families are still going strong, and that we're still a force to be reckoned with. Whether that ends in marriage or not...well, that will be on our terms, and when we're sure."
"That's...very mature of you, Draco."
"What?" He raised a cool eyebrow. "I can't be mature?"
"Not often."
"I'd tell you to bugger off, but it isn't mature."
Astoria giggled mildly into her sleeve. "Alright. Let's work on our friendship, then, and go from there."
"Right. Sounds like a plan."
The two exchanged careful smiles, and a piece of Draco's heart dislodged when he caught the still pained glint in her eyes. He wondered if he wore the same expression and what it all meant. All he knew was that the relationship was over, for now, and that brought up thoughts of Hermione to the forefront of his mind. Was Astoria thinking of Weasley? Or had that kiss been fleeting? He couldn't exactly say the same about his own...it still grabbed him tight around the middle and refused to let go.
That, he surmised, was the next and most important thing on his list. He couldn't press on one way or another with Astoria until he figured out what his feeling for Hermione were and why they were so strong. He needed to know all of the variables before he could make an educated guess as to why his stomach flipped at the thought of her and why her eyes made his insides melt like chocolate frogs on hot pavement.
Next time, what is a confused Draco Malfoy to do? Try to show up at Hermione's doorstep, of course! But will it work? Find out soon.
#TangoTuesday
~A.
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