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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 sorry this took so long to come out. It's a bit short, but the next chapter will be long and full of hilarious encounters, as well as some Dramione interaction! This one will get the ball rolling.
Special thank you to LightofEvolution for some juicy ideas, some in here, some to come!
Gracias to my bilingual friend, Sam Wallflower, who helped me with my Spanish and fixed some of my errors. XDz
oh, just to make sure everyone is clear. There are two Diggles here. Douglas, the father, and Greg, the son. XD If you've read the How To Train Your Auror series, you'll recognize them. If you've read Sex Ed, you'll recognize two other familiar names...
Hope everyone's day is bright!
~A.
"Dance is the hidden language of the soul" – Martha Graham
Stage Right: Hermione, Ginny, Greg Diggle
Stage Left: Draco and Astoria, Daphne and Blaise
Center Stage: Señor Douglas Bastian Diggle
Setting: Diggle's private dance studio, (location: still secret)
Hermione had to place her book over her face to stifle the ridiculous amount of giggles that threatened to erupt from her throat at the sight of 'Señor Diggle' and his absurd cape. Next to her, she noticed Greg Diggle turning the color of a springtime strawberry, dragging one hand down his face comically in embarrassment. She nearly took pity on the man, but she wasn't given the opportunity, because Diggle senior glided into the center of the room and tapped his foot on the floor twice, calling for everyone's attention.
"It feels so good to see such fresh faces! Come, now. We haven't any time to waste. Introductions are in order!"
"Introductions?" muttered an auburn-haired gentleman in the corner of the room, clinging to the exercise rail.
"Yes! I find it is best to get to know each one of my protégés before we get down to official business. Who would like to begin first?"
The room full of hopeful dancers all began to look anywhere but at Diggle. Even Hermione felt her once eagerness to show her knowledge off wane in the presence of such a gaudy professor. However, when she realized no one else would make a move, she mustered her Gryffindor courage from within and raised a hand into the air.
Of course, it would be bloody Granger to raise her hand. Always the eager sprout, wasn't she? Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes as the brunette was called upon and ushered to the center of the room to stand next to Señor-fancy-pants.
"Hello," said Diggle in a cheerful tone. "And who are you?"
"Well," she began, "My name is Hermione Granger, and my parents and I lived in London for most of my life…"
"No. No, no, no. I don't care about any of that."
"You don't?" Granger looked utterly perplexed, paling on the spot.
"No, mi niña. I wish for you to express to us who you are."
"I do believe I was trying-"
Diggle gave an impish laugh, waving his arm dramatically around the room, causing his cape to flow behind him like an opera singer. "Do or do not. There is no try."
"Father, that's from Star Wars…" a chiseled wizard, dressed all in black, said from the back corner.
Wait. "Father?" Draco interjected, raising a curious eyebrow and, regretfully, drawing unwanted attention to himself. Still, if the spotlight was going to be on him, he'd handle the role with poise. "You're his son, are you?"
"So they tell me," muttered the man, crossing his arms.
"Our hats off to you, mate," Blaise chimed in, bowing in sarcastic formality.
Douglas Diggle's mustache waved dangerously on his upper lip, narrowing his eyes at his son. "If you are quite done, I'd like to return back to Miss-?" he looked expectantly toward Granger.
"Hermione Granger, Sir."
"Señor," Diggle corrected. "So, Miss Granger. Tell us who you are."
"I thought I was, before you so rudely interrupted me."
"'Mione!" seethed her redhead friend against the wall, giving her a whatfore glare.
"Quite alright," Diggle said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "We shall see soon enough." With that, he clapped his hands twice, and the room went dark, save but for a lone spotlight above Granger, cascading down on her like the light of the moon. Diggle gave another wave of his mustache as he sauntered away.
"Er… what am I supposed to do now?" Granger asked.
"What else, querida mía? Dance!"
It was like Christmas morning come early to Draco as he watched Diggle snap his fingers and listened as upbeat trumpets, drums, and wind instruments lit to life in the form of an old turntable near the door. Two more spotlights erupted from nowhere and landed on the overwhelmed Granger in the center of the floor, eyes wide and expression grim. Like a kneazle being thrown into a bath, Granger's bushy hair stood on end, and she cleared her throat, took out her wand, and waved it. The music died and the spotlight doused as a flame would to water. Then, with a cross of her arms, she sighed and said, "No, thank you."
Diggle puffed out his chest, resembling one of the proud peacocks that wandered in the Manor's front yard during summertime. "Do you, or do you not, wish to be taught the sultry, provocative dance of the Tango by the world's most renowned dancing coach?"
"And how will making a fool of myself prove anything? I thought I was here to learn, not to be put on the spot and paraded for my shortcomings."
It didn't matter if they were three years out from the War. It made no difference blood status or titles or social status. Hermione Granger had just admitted she did, indeed, possess a shortcoming, and Draco couldn't have been more pleased. He smirked, though he held himself back from outright laughing, not wanting to draw more attention to himself than needed. After all, he had the exact same shortcoming. Though he'd never admit it to the insufferable brunette…
"Your reputation doesn't seem to precede you, Granger," said Daphne, taking a step forward. "I thought you were brilliant in everything?"
Daphne Greengrass. Slytherin. Her marriage to Blaise Zabini had been the talk of the papers for weeks before the event. Hermione remembered her fairly well from her days back at Hogwarts and always knew her to be a jealous sort, much like her friend Pansy Parkinson. Though Hermione assumed she might have grown out of it, it appeared she was mistaken. With a hearty, impromptu sigh, she looked around the room, spotted Greg Diggle, and pointed her finger at him.
"You. Here."
"Me?"
"Yes."
Greg politely crossed the room and stood in front of her, his handsome green eyes dancing in bewildered amusement. "Well now, Hermione. What is it you wanted?"
Her heart fluttering out of nervousness (because she never enjoyed being stared at), Hermione placed one hand on Greg's shoulder, clasping his hand with the other, and set her posture in an almost robotic position. "All I'm familiar with is the Waltz. Can you manage?"
Greg's eyes lit up like Christmas lights, and he gave a chuckle. "Absolutely."
The music started up again, and Hermione began to count the rhythm in her head. One, two, three… one, two, three… one two…
"Ahh!" Greg gasped as she stepped on his toe.
"Sorry," she managed, hopping back into step with him. Across the way, she could hear the sniggering of several ex-Slytherins under their breaths. Not one to back down, she kept her eyes down at their feet, watching with mechanical scrutiny to avoid hurting her dance partner again. It came as a surprise when Greg decided to dip her -her flats slipped across the slick floor, moving her awkwardly to scuffle her feet as he held the dip. With a roll of his eyes, he pulled her back to her feet and bowed formally. The music faded away, and, with a redness to her cheeks, she stalked back over near Ginny, wishing to be as small as a mouse so no one could see the flush of embarrassment across her face.
"I hope you're happy," she grumbled to her friend, trying to sink in further to the floor as Greg approached and took a seat next to her.
"Well… that was… informative," Douglas Diggle said, twirling his mustache between his fingertips. "Most definitely a... er…"
"I believe the word you're looking for is 'trainwreck.'"
It was Draco Malfoy, of all people, to offer up his two cents, smirking with his arms crossed.
"Quite right," agreed Diggle, "Indeed, every classroom has its weakest link. -And you are?"
"Draco."
"Wonderful. Draco, why don't you show Miss Granger how it's done, yes?"
Instantly, the haughty grin was wiped off his pale face. "Oh. No. It…" he cleared his throat, bumping his fist to his chest as if a chocolate frog was lodged in it. "I couldn't possibly… wouldn't be fair…"
"Nonsense, Draco!" said a beautiful woman with long, chestnut ringlets (and one of the most prim postures Hermione had ever laid eyes on) as she took the blond by the hand and dragged him to the center of the room. "Let's give it a go, yes?"
"Astoria," he could be heard muttering, "I don't think this…"
But the music sprang up, and the spotlight churned, and Astoria took Malfoy's hand, slipped it around her, and began to lead them in a bone-bare version of the traditional Waltz. To his credit, he made it four steps in before floundering around, forgetting every step, and tripping over her shoes to nearly fall flat on his face. His only saving grace was Blaise Zabini, who waved his wand and cast a quick cushioning charm before the heir broke his nose.
Hermione didn't feel entirely all that bad anymore.
"I take it back," Señor Diggle said whimsically, "It appears the weakest chain might lay with you, dear Draco."
Draco scrambled to his feet, not missing the pained expression on his fiancée face. Filled with humiliation, it nearly made it worse when she patted him on the back and whispered, "That's alright, Draco. You'll get it. Don't you worry."
He didn't miss the shuffle of few galleons being fished out of Blaise's pocket and being passed over to Daphne as he retreated back to his spot. Astoria was set to follow him when Señor Diggle sidestepped, blocking her path.
"You, however, have quite a graceful cadence, my dear."
"Astoria," she said, beaming. "And thank you, señor."
"I'd love to see what you could do with a proper partner. Would you mind dancing with my son for a session?"
"Not at all!" Astoria exclaimed, bouncing up and down. It was clear she enjoyed the attention. Draco tried to fight off his embarrassment to be proud of her, but it didn't help that he caught Granger and Weasleyette giggling to themselves in the corner, occasionally pointing a finger in his direction. He was forced to watch as the son of Señor Gaudy-Glitz placed his hands all over (okay, perhaps simply on her back and in her hand) and proceeded to spin his fiancé in delicate turns around the floor. The crowd began to cheer and clap, and even Weasley's little sister gave a hoot of glee. The only one unimpressed was the witch who sucked just as bad as he did. Really, all it did was boost Draco's ego a bit more. Sure, maybe he couldn't dance, but his future wife certainly could… better than the know-it-all prude…
"Now this!" said Diggle, "This is a proper dancer! I can work with this!"
When Astoria returned to her spot next to Draco, the entire room was in awe of her.
One by one, the others around the room introduced themselves;
There was Ginny Weasley, who held a bit of skill of her own, but lacked the posture.
Blaise and Daphne went together as a couple, causing the group to 'ooh' and aww' at their rendition of a the Bachata. If it wasn't evident before on how they made the baby growing inside Daphne, it was now.
Next, there was a female couple by the names of Geraldina and Paulina who were as blocky with their movements as their faces resembled (which was to say, quite a bit.)
Finally, at the tail end of the line up, was a couple who appeared fresh out of Hogwarts by the names of Lidia and Liam. To be honest, they were probably the most confident couple in the room, aside from Blaise and Daphne, and they moved with poise and grace far beyond their years. It caused Draco to wonder if they might be professional dancers in disguise.
"Yes... " good ol' fancy-pants Diggle said, nodding to each his clients, "I have a good read on each one of you now. Now that I know what is in your soul, I can begin to properly mold you into the dancers of your dreams!" He beamed with particular bravado toward Astoria.
There came a snort from the other side of the room. "Excuse me. Did you just mean to imply you think you know us now?" Of course, it was Granger.
"No, cariño. I was saying it outright." With a clap, the room lit back to life once more, and glowing, red X's appeared in various, even stances across the floor. "Everyone, take a partner. We will begin with the basic stance, for now, until I can assess individual needs."
Hermione was livid. "Did you just hear what he said, Gin?" she gasped in a whisper as couples began to take their places on the dancefloor. "He can't really presume to know us based off of one dance!"
Ginny smiled softly to her friend and patted her on the knee. "Window to the soul, remember? Relax. You'll do better next round. At least you weren't as bad as Malfoy."
The corners of Hermione's lips tugged upward. "Yes, that's true." As she prepared to stand, she found a hand in her face, offered out to her. It was Greg Diggle, a gentle smile written in the lines of his face. "What are you doing?"
"Well, unless you and Miss Weasley intend to be an official dance couple, I thought I might offer myself up as tribute to your atrocious dance skills."
"Charming." She pushed his hand out of the way and pushed herself to her feet, squaring him up. "And who is Ginny dancing wi-" she cut herself off when she saw Ginny all smiles, facing Señor Diggle on a nearby X. Giving a sigh, Hermione narrowed her eyes at Greg and poked him in the sternum. "Hands above the waist at all times, and eyes on mine."
"Your friend was right. You're quite abrasive."
"Everyone in positions, now!" shouted Douglas. "No time to waste! We'll begin with something simple to sink our teeth into. The Tango embrace!"
"Is that wise?" Hermione asked, allowing Greg to lead her over to their provided X. "Shouldn't the embrace be sought after only once both partners know all of the required steps?"
Greg rolled his eyes, positioning her close to him -so close, in fact, she could feel his breath in her cheek and smell his woody cologne. "I know he can be a bit.. eccentric. But there is a method to his madness, Hermione. I assure you. Relax."
Searching for her voice as she struggled to focus on his Adam's apple (because looking into his eyes would be entirely too flustering at the moment), she replied, "But I've read that control of the pelvic muscles is very much important to the act-"
"-This isn't a book. This is a classroom. Hands on. No book is going to teach you the intimacy behind this dance. Only the embrace can teach you that." His fingers were soft on her skin, tracing gentle circles with the pads along her back and stoking enough fire within her to meet his gaze. With a smirk, Greg raised one of his eyebrows and said, "Shall we begin?"
I don't plan to be as late with an update next time around. This one isn't as funny as the next, but I had to get the ball rolling in order for Hermione and Draco to show off just how horrible they really are. XD (Don't you mind Greg Diggle. He's harmless. This is a Dramione story, after all!)
A review is always kind and highly appreciated.
~A.
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Tango