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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
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So, I am a dunce and forgot to give the AMAZING Sam Wallflower credit for perfecting my Spanish last chapter! So thank you, Iris! (hearts)
This first scene wouldn't have been possible without the suggestion by LondonsLegend, and there's a few goofy moments with George Weasley down in the chapter that were all the work of LightofEvolution. Alpha love to her, and Beta love to LondonsLegend.
"New beginnings are often disguised
as painful endings"
~Lao Tzu
Stage Right: Draco Malfoy
Setting: Malfoy Manor, his bedroom, namely his bed...ladies. ;)
Draco had tossed and turned for most of the night, too on edge to sleep. He got up when the sun met the horizon and stood at his window, watching the reds and golds glisten on the grounds of the Malfoy Manor. Waking up today, knowing that it was a fresh start, was one of the most invigorating things he'd felt in a long time. There were no obligations today; he didn't have to think about dance lessons or wedding plans. The only two things on his mind were: Astoria coming by this morning for something, and lunch plans with Hermione this afternoon. With a skip in his step, Draco marched to the bathroom, flipping the shower on with a flick of his wrist, ready to face the day.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, surprised by the lack of dark circles even though he'd hardly slept a wink. Obviously, he was in a far better mood than he thought. His face practically glowed with anticipation at what the day promised. He grabbed up his toothbrush, took it into the shower with him, and began to scrub at his teeth. The magical bristles suds immediately, filling his mouth with minty paste. Simultaneously he brushed his teeth and massaged his hair with shampoo, letting the bubbles tickle his scalp. If anyone could get a good gawk at him, they'd have thought he'd broken the Malfoy code entirely, forgoing his brooding nature for one of lighthearted eagerness. But he couldn't exactly help it. There was something so freeing about waking up and being left to his own devices. Not even the thought of breaking the news to his mother that he was, in fact, not going to marry at the present moment could deter him from his pleasant disposition.
Hell, he even had a good wank just because he could. And he didn't feel an ounce guilty that it was Hermione he thought about.
After his shower, he dressed in a casual pair of dress slacks and white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, slipping on some socks but refusing to put on shoes yet as he carried them down the staircase and padded his way to the kitchen for a bite. His appetite, which had waned lately due to stress, found its way back, and he served himself some jelly on toast, some links of sausage, and a cup of coffee as black as his soul. Only when he was on his last link did Astoria find him, a wooden crate in her hands.
Draco's eyebrows shot up immediately: Astoria wore a light summer dress, showing off her delicate neckline and long legs. Her hair was cut just below her chin in a bob with matching bangs, accentuating her fine features. "Tori," Draco motioned to the nook in the corner of the kitchen and offered her a seat next to him. She walked over and placed the crate on top of the table, pulling out her own chair and taking a seat. There was one thing very new about her appearance; she no longer wore her engagement ring on her left hand.
"It's in the box," she said, as if reading his mind. "Along with a few things you've gotten me over the last few years."
"Oh. Er….I didn't know we were exchanging trinkets," he replied, somewhat confused and nearly offended. "These gifts were for you, Astoria, I don't want them back."
"Yes, well...I don't want them. Not right now." She held her head up with more confidence and poise than he'd seen her hold in a long time. "If we're truly to be separated, this, I think, is a good first step."
Draco nodded mildly, glancing into the box. There were a few letters he'd written her, a stuffed dragon he'd won her at a carnival, and a few glitzy pieces of jewelry, including her engagement ring, tied around the stuffed dragon's neck.
"So...this is it, is it?" he asked quietly, eyebrows knitting together.
"Tell me - it's been nearly a week since our separation. How do you feel?"
"Honestly?" he gulped, meeting her gaze. She nodded softly. "Relieved."
"Me too." Her eyes glistened with appreciation. "I think we've been so busy trying to make it as lovers, we forgot our friendship somewhere in the mix. And I'm not saying it doesn't hurt...because it does. But not for the reasons I thought it would." She brought out the dragon and kissed it on the nose. "I think I just thought this would feel worse, and I hate that."
"Believe me, the feeling's mutual."
"I'm done trying to impress everyone. It's why I cut my hair - there's going to be a few changes in my life. You were right about one thing: I cared far too much of what others thought of me."
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't guilty of it myself," he muttered. The box solidified what he knew to be true: things between them were over.
"I don't want us to lose our friendship - I think that was what I valued most between us."
"So, you've made up your mind completely."
"Haven't you?"
He nodded. "It's just difficult admitting it out loud."
"I agree."
"And the press? What are we to tell them? Our family?"
Astoria smirked. "Sod them."
Draco's face broke out into a smirk of its own. "Yeah?"
"Yes! They can live in the dark for a moment longer. I, for one, don't feel like hearing our parents try to wrangle us back together when we haven't figured out what we want to do with this time apart. We will tell everyone on our own time."
"Reporters are going to realize you aren't wearing your ring."
Grinning, Astoria shrugged. "Oh, well. That's our business, isn't it? I'm getting rather tired of making our affairs everyone else's. Let them speculate." Draco didn't know who this Astoria was, but he rather enjoyed her company; she was far more a snake than the quiet mouse who feared stepping on anyone's toes. "So...what are your plans for the day?"
"Lunch."
"But you've just eaten breakfast."
"And that disqualifies me from lunch?" He debated on whether to tell her who his lunch plans were with. "Astoria...I feel like...damn it."
"Hmm?" She blinked innocently at him.
"What's it called? That nagging feeling in your chest you get when you feel compelled to tell the whole truth?"
"That's a conscience, Draco."
"Ugh." He rolled his eyes. "Well, it's telling me to tell you...something…"
"About Miss Granger?"
Draco cocked an eyebrow. "How'd you-"
"It's quite obvious, isn't it?" Astoria rubbed her hands together as if she was freezing - but perhaps she was merely trying to keep herself busy. "And there's nothing to tell me. We aren't together." She stood from the table. "In fact, I'd rather not know at all, if that's alright...just...not right now."
Nodding, he replied, "Alright…"
"I've got to go." Astoria put on her best smile, the one reserved for concealing emotions. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Draco. We'll speak soon." Clack, clack, clack went Astoria's heels as she took her leave, stepping through the threshold of the kitchen entry and into a new chapter of her life: one without Draco. Draco stared down at the box, a pang of nostalgia in his chest. He really did hope they'd talk soon - he could stomach a failed engagement, but he didn't want to lose her entirely. Call it selfishness, but her friendship still remained an important cog in his clockwork of life.
Stage Left: Hermione Granger
Setting: Her bedroom...men ;) Or ladies. No judging here.
Hermione paced in the floor of her bedroom, staring down at three outfits, each with varying degrees of provocativeness. The first was a simple blue blouse and fitted black jeans. The second was a pencil skirt and spaghetti strapped camisole with gems sewn along the neckline. The third was one of her favorite babydoll dresses.
Just what did one wear to a lunch with Draco Malfoy?
Perhaps mixing the outfits would work? Nodding, she picked up her jeans and the camisole, retreating to the bathroom. She tried to tame her curls with a spell, but she should have known better; the bushy mane could not be contained, and it frizzed even more than usual in defiance. "Oh, honestly!" she exclaimed, pulling her shirt on over her head but finding it difficult because of the volume of her hair. Somehow she managed it and then shimmied into her jeans. Once they were buttoned, she took a good, hard look at herself in the mirror. Freckles dusted along the bridge of her nose, the same color as her irises. She had a natural glow to her cheeks from blushing while thinking about the blond and what this lunch meant.
Friends, she reminded herself. This means friendship.
Oh, but who was she kidding? The closer the time approached, the more and more she felt like she was awaiting some sort of date. She was just about to give up on the camisole, thinking it too revealing, when there was a knock at the front door.
"Damn it," she grumbled, "No time." She picked up her wand off the bathroom counter and gave it a swish, widening the straps of her shirt to form sleeves at a three-quarter length. "Much better." She quickly slipped on her flats and dashed to the door, taking a few calming breaths before swinging it open.
Oh, Merlin, there he was.
Draco Malfoy stood in her doorway, casual and confident, as if he was made to always stand watch at her door. His grey eyes lit up the moment he caught sight of her, and he produced from behind him a small crystallized rose made entirely of hard candy. "I thought flowers might be a bit much, but this might fall under the exception."
Hermione's cheeks filled quickly with a dark blush as she took the rose, smiling. It was so thoughtful and adorable. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." His eyes scanned her over. "You clean up nice."
"Hey." She poked him in the chest. "Eyes up here, Mister."
Draco smirked. "Are you ready to head out?"
Nodding, she shut the door behind her and locked it with a bit of magic, candy rose still in hand. "Where are we headed?"
"Do you trust me?"
"No."
"Well, then...that will make this all the more fun, won't it?" He shot her a wink before grabbing her arm and Disapparating them on the spot.
Center Stage: Draco and Hermione
Setting: ? ? ? (because three question marks means suspense!)
"¿Hola, cómo estás? Dos?"
"Sí."
"Draco, where are we?" Hermione stared at the authentic Spanish tapestries and gorgeous waterfall in the center of a well-lit, upscale restaurant full of rich colors.
Leading them to follow the maestro to a cozy corner booth, he replied, "Spain," as he ushered her into her seat.
"Spain?" she gasped.
Draco took a seat across from her, the largest smirk he could muster on his handsome face. "I thought it would be fun to see what real Spanish food is like; we're fed so much bullshit by Señor Diggle on a daily basis." He pointed to something on the menu as soon as the server arrived, and the server nodded, scurrying away without so much as a word spoken.
"This is not what I agreed to," she pouted. "Apparation at such a long distance is highly dangerous, you know. You could have splinched us both."
"And yet, we're both very much alive."
"I take it you've been here before to make the trip so smoothly?"
"Once with my parents when I was five."
Hermione thought her eyes might pop out of her skull. "Five? You mean to tell me we relied on a memory you had when you were five to Apparate here?"
"Talented, aren't I?"
"You're a moronic fool."
"Don't hold back, Hermione. Tell me how you really feel."
She sighed, giving up the ghost. Well, they had made it here in one piece. She picked up her menu, but Draco reached over and pushed it back down to the table.
"You won't be needing that."
"And why not?"
"I already know what we're ordering."
"Excuse you, but I'm perfectly capable of ordering for myself."
"They don't carry pictures on this menu."
Hermione felt the heat of anger bubble up within her until she saw the entertained glint in his eye. He was being a prat, but all in good fun. With a roll of her eyes, she jerked the menu out from underneath his hand and opened it up. Oh, her Spanish studies hadn't prepared her for this…she had no idea what any of this was. "Fine." She shut the menu. "But if it's awful, you're paying for it."
"I already intended on paying for it, anyway."
"Why?" She leaned closer. "We're two friends out for lunch. Going dutch is part of it."
"Yes, but one item on this menu is more than a day's pay for you at the Ministry," he quipped back.
"I never asked to come here."
"Thus why I'm paying." It was his turn to roll his eyes, scooping up her menu just as the waiter arrived, two glasses of some bubbling brew in mugs the shape of small cacti. Once again, Draco pointed to something on the menu, stated the word, "Dos," and then handed the menus to the server. "Non-alcoholic," he assured her as he turned his sights back on Hermione. "It's a pep-tonic mixed with various fruit juices."
She stared skeptically at her cup before dragging it across the table and taking a sip. Sweet and spicy, the drink was surprisingly delicious. "Oh...oh my…"
"See? You should trust me more often." Draco brought his mug up to his lips and took a sip. As his eyes scanned her face, Hermione felt a well of curiosity and nervousness fill inside her chest. After a few more sips, she set the drink aside and pushed her wrapped silverware around on the table.
"So...here we are."
"Here we are," he agreed, folding his hands in front of him. "It's not as terrible as all that, is it?"
"No."
His body instantly relaxed. "Good. That's...good, then." There was one more moment of awkward silence before he tried to make small talk. "Next week, I'm meeting with a potions master contracted under my family's patent company to discuss my notes over the antidepressant."
"Oh?" Hermione's interest perked. "That's wonderful. Are you excited to get started?"
"Bit of an understatement," he nodded. "But I'm hoping once I have it perfected and patented, I could speak to your friend in research and development?"
"Of course! - You know him, actually."
"I do?"
"Remember Seamus Finnigan?"
"Oh, not that lump of worthless sod!" he groaned. "If memory serves, he blew up everything sky high back in school."
"Yes, but now he can do it in a controlled environment," stated Hermione happily. "And he's wonderful at it."
"Woo…"
They remained in idle chatter until the food arrived, both afraid to bring up the real questions between them: Why were they here? What did this 'friendship' mean for the both of them? Did Draco feel the skip in his heartbeat the way Hermione did when their legs touched under the table? Did his breath catch when he caught her staring just a moment too long? Eventually, they took to eating their food in pleasant silence until their plates were clean and their stomachs full.
It was then that Hermione gathered the courage to ask what was on her mind.
"So...dare I ask how you and Astoria are fairing?"
"We're fine," he replied, a bit too curtly for her liking. He must have realized the brash way in which he spoke, because he followed it with, "She...came by and dropped off some things."
"Oh?"
"The engagement ring, for example."
Oh. Hermione folded her hands in her lap, trying to think of what best to say. There was a small bit of her that whooped and hollered in delight, but the rest of her felt extremely guilty for it. "So...the wedding is off?"
"I told you it was."
"Yes, but...but you're still taking lessons together," she insisted, staring down at her empty plate to avoid getting lost in the complexity of his gaze. "And you haven't announced anything…"
"That's just the way things are done with pureblood diplomacies. We have a lot riding riding on both of our shoulders, and we'd like to handle things as delicately as possible, for the time being. Though, it's a mutual agreement that we're both tired of living up to those perfect expectations…" He twirled his spoon idly between his fingers, keeping himself busy as he spoke. "If we were to cancel everything at once, the press would tear our families apart, spouting 'bad blood' and 'family issues.' You can't very well be proactive and pureblooded in this day and age. If we take things slow, build on the friendship, we can come come to a conclusion that's mutually beneficial to both sides without giving our mothers any early heart attacks."
"So...you don't plan on getting back together?" Hermione asked. "Or you do?"
Draco set the spoon down and forced her to look him square in the eyes. "Astoria and I have too many issues to be together. I think we're both coming to realize it. Even little less than a week apart, and it's the happiest I've been in years."
"Then why wait to tell the presses?"
"Sod them," he said, shrugging nonchalantly.
"No, not sod them." Hermione popped her hand down on the table crisply. "You can't say you don't care what they think and still be unwilling to tell them. What's really going on?"
His eyes darkened. "You wouldn't understand. You weren't raised like us."
"Then explain it to me," she whispered. "Please."
Draco sighed, mulling over how best to explain. "The way we were brought up, proposals only end in marriage, and anything less is a scandal. It's like constantly being placed under a magnification spell as people try to analyze every detail of your life, down to the bloody mark on your arm." He growed quiet, rubbing his forearm uncomfortably.
Hermione realized: "You're afraid that the presses will link your breakup to you being an ex-Death Eater."
"Wouldn't you be?" he shot back. "Can't you see it now, Hermione? 'Greengrass casts aside Death Eater fiance.'"
"But it's mutual."
"The papers don't care. They're only looking for a good story. Nevermind how anyone actually feels, it's all about what sells. And anyway, I'm done talking about it. Astoria's given me back the ring, and that is that. We'll come out to everyone, eventually. We just need to do it with tact."
It was like Hermione finally found the missing piece to the puzzle hidden beneath the floorboards. Everything, his misgivings, his dedication to Astoria, his unwavering pureblood oaths...they all began and ended with the scars upon his forearm, rendering him a previous enemy to the country. Hell, to the entire world.
"You don't think...that I care about…about your Mark, do you?" she whispered, suddenly very serious. Draco's face grew somber, and he discretely rose up out of the booth, taking a seat beside her. Without a word, he reached over, laced their fingers together, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
"No, Hermione. Believe it or not, I think you're the least prejudiced person I've ever met." His words hung heavy in her heart, holding so much substance to them. "I'm lucky to have a friend like you." He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, warming her entire face. His breath still tickled against her skin as he whispered, "That alright by you?"
All Hermione could do was nod in response. They sat in a new found silence, this one of utmost comfortability around each other. Eventually, Draco paid the tab and they walked outside into the sunshine, still hand in hand. She supposed they hadn't broken contact once since the initial handholding.
"So…" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear with her free hand, "What now?"
"That depends - what sort of mischief do you feel like getting into today?"
Downstage Left: Astoria Greengrass
Setting: Diagon Alley
Astoria's heart beat wildly in her chest as she approached Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and yanked open the front door, signalling the bell above the door to chime. "You can do this," she told herself. "It won't be so bad…"
The moment she entered, a tuft of red hair attached to a lanky body stepped in front of her. For a moment, she thought it might be him, but it wasn't - though it was someone who looked quite a bit like him with matching freckles and bright blue eyes. "Allo, allo, pretty lady. The name's George. George Weasley. Think i could interest you in some puking pastilles today?"
"Oh, um, no. If you could just point me in the direction of Ron?"
George looked her up and down. "Ron Weasley?"
"Yes."
"You're looking for Ron Weasley? Does he owe you money?"
Astoria's eyebrows stitched together, perplexed. "No? He's a...well...a friend, I suppose." Yes, a friend that she'd snogged in a desperate time of self-loathing…
"And does he pay you for that friendship?" asked George skeptically.
"I suppose we'll see," she quipped with a sly wink, spotting Ron at the counter. "If you'll excuse me." She rushed past George and over to the front counter, waving. The moment Ron spotted her, his eyes went wide, his entire body flushed red, and he ducked behind the counter. Astoria frowned inquisitively as a customer, a small boy no older than ten, leaned over the counter and said, "Uh, Mister? I wasn't done paying for these…"
"On the house!" Came a muffled response. The customer walked away with a shrug.
Astoria sighed, leaning over the counter to peer at Ron.. "Hello."
Bewildered, Ron glanced up at her, stuttering, "Uh, h-hello. Just, erm, dropped a...a receipt. Somewhere…"
"And you weren't avoiding me?" she asked.
"Avoiding you?" He feigned innocence, reappearing on his feet behind the counter. "Nah. I, er, I…" He caught eyes with George, who walked past the two while popping a sweet in his mouth. As George blinked, little hearts float out of his eyes and over in Ron's direction. Ron scowled, scratching the side of his cheek (with his middle finger, subtly flipping George off). "Can I get you something?" he asked Astoria when George was a comfortable distance away. "Pygme Puff? Tongue Toffee?"
"Actually, I was hoping I could give you something."
"Ooooh!" shouted George from a nearby aisle.
"An apology."
George groaned, disappointed. "Ooooh…."
Ron's eyebrows shot up. "For what?"
"For...you know." Astoria reached over and snatched up a lips flavored lollipop from the counter, pressing it to Ron's lips.
"Oh." Ron blushed even harder. It was adorable.
"And the bit after...Draco really didn't need to make you throw up so many slugs."
"Ugh, don't remind me. I can still taste them. But uh...you didn't need to come here. Not that I mind you being here, but...I mean...you didn't need to say you were sorry."
"Oh?"
"It's not like pretty women just throw themselves at me every day," Ron shrugged, impassive. "Actually, it was quite the ego boost." He paused. "You changed your hair."
"I did. Do you-"
"Love it? Yeah. It looks good on you." He smiled. "You look younger."
Astoria was practically floating on cloud nine, but she couldn't let him know it. "Are you saying I looked old, Ronald Weasley?"
"N-No. I just...blimey, you have me stuttering like Neville…"
"Who?"
"A friend of mine. Great with plants. Terrible with talking to pretty girls."
"You think I'm pretty?" She fluttered her eyelashes.
"You're damn right, he does!" shouted George from across the shop.
"George!" Ron yelled back. "Shut it!"
"You're right! You can crash and burn all on your own, baby brother!" George laughed.
Astoria rolled her eyes. "Do you have a break sometime today?"
"A break?"
"Yes, such as a lunch break?"
"Oh. Um. Y-Yeah. In an hour."
"Splendid. I shall see you then!"
"For what?" Ron blurted out.
"I'll have you know, Mister Weasley, I am not the kind of girl to kiss just any random man. You at least owe me some sort of explanation as to who you are."
"I do?"
"You do."
"But you...kissed me?"
"I shall see you at precisely two P.M.!" Astoria sat a Knut down on the counter to pay for the lip lollipop and popped it into her mouth, shooting Ron a wink as she began to saunter away.
"Oh...okay?" He paused. "Hey, wait! Am I gonna have to puke up more slugs?"
Astoria stopped at the door, smiling. "Only if you're late."
As always, I would love to hear your thoughts! Hope to hear from you soon, and I'll see you next #TangoTuesday!
~A.
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