Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Hello! Sorry to be MIA! Finished Squirm! A special shout out to LightofEvolution for Hermione's words at the end of this chapter, and a thank you to Sam Wallflower for continuing to teach me how to properly write Spanish!
"Sex alleviates tension
Love causes it"
~Woody Allen
Center Stage: Hermione Granger
Setting: Diggle's Dance Studio
Hermione inhaled breath after breath, trying to calm her nerves as she waited outside Studio uno in preparation for today's actual dance lesson. She wore a light sweater and a pair of khakis, having just come back from spending the afternoon with her parents. She wasn't prepared for dance class, but she hadn't had time to go back and change, considering her parents had bombarded her with all of the usual questions: "Are you dating anyone new? How is Ronald, dear? Have you thought about settling down and becoming a dentist?"
She was in the middle of debating about transfiguring her clothing when Ginny strolled down the hallway and gave her outfit a once over. "Much better."
"Excuse me?"
"Your clothes for dance!"
"These aren't my dance clothes!" Hermione gasped in horror, glancing down at her attire. "I just came from my parents!"
"Oh." Ginny blinked. "Well, you should consider keeping them. You look much more comfortable in your own skin this way."
"I agree!" called a sweet, airy voice from down the hallway. Astoria Greengrass came into full view wearing a flowy, floral skirt and ruffled blouse that hugged her curves in all the right ways. Her hair was the epitome of kempt; compared to Hermione's unruly curls and frumpy attire, the other woman looked like a princess. She even wore two clips in her hair that resembled tiny butterflies, spelled to flap their crystal wings every few seconds or so. Ginny gave the girl a skeptical look as she approached. Hermione, on the other hand, felt rather guilty standing before Astoria after having fantasized about her future husband on multiple occasions this week. Not that she could help it, but still…
"Hello," said Astoria cheerfully, glancing between the two.
"Where's your arm candy?" Ginny blurted out suddenly, to which Hermione elbowed her in the side and sent her an incredulous look.
"Draco is having lunch with his mother," Astoria replied, brushing down the ruffles in her skirt. "He should be here soon. - I'm glad I've caught you, actually, Miss Weasley. I'm sure by now your - well, what is he? Boyfriend? Has he not popped the question yet?" She gave a small twitter. "In any case, I'm sure Auror Potter has informed you of the invitation I've extended to him, and in short, to you in regards to the wedding?"
Hermione was fairly decent at reading people; she could tell Astoria meant no harm - but it didn't make what she said any better, and she had to hold her friend back from charging at her by quickly casting a wordless sticking charm to Ginny's shoes to keep her rooted to her spot. The woman turned as red as her hair, the freckles on her nose barely visible in the presence of her blushing skin.
"Harry did tell me, yes…" Ginny grumbled, crossing her arms.
"Wonderful," Astoria beamed. "And you, Miss Granger? Have you-"
"-Found my plus one? Yes, I have," Hermione replied, a bit crisper than intended. Oh, but what the Hell, yes? For once, she didn't feel like the general outcast; if anything, she and Ginny felt like the cool kids at the lunch table, and Astoria gave off the timid impression of the girl trying to fit in. How very strange.
Astoria inhaled a deep breath, wearing her best forced smile. "Wonderful to hear. How goes the dance lessons with Draco?"
"Swimmingly."
"Great…"
All three women stood in awkward silence until the floo down the hall lit to life. Blaise and Daphne approached, hand in hand. When Daphne saw the disgruntled display between them, she sauntered up to the lot, dragging Blaise with her, and asked, "Has anyone tried the door?"
Hermione turned her head, staring at the handle. Come to think of it…she reached out and turned the knob; it gave way with a soft click, and as soon as the door opened, the hallways was lit to life with the sounds of fresh trumpets, heavy drums, and lively melodies. As the door swung open, the youngest couple, Lidia and Liam, glided across the dance floor with precision, turning and twisting their feet in a display Hermione's eyes could barely keep up with. Greg Diggle sat on top of a large trunk in the corner of the room, tapping his hands to it in time with the beats as his eyes scanned the door and met with Hermione.
"Glad you could join us," he said gleefully, gesturing to the room. "You're all five minutes late by my father's standards."
With a blush, Hermione stepped in first, nearly forgetting Ginny's spelled shoes - at the last moment, she waved her hand behind her back and released them, causing Ginny to nearly stumble backwards. "And by your standards?" the bright witch asked, self conscious in her attire. Greg didn't seem to mind. In fact, he looked charmed by her appearance as he jumped down from the trunk and reached for her hand. He placed a delicate kiss on top and smiled.
"Right on time," he said with a wink.
Ginny, usually not one to interrupt a potential sexual counterpart for her friend, broke out of her character and seized Hermione by her wrist, dragging her across the floor with a mighty pull. Under her breath she muttered, "That wasn't funny, Hermione."
"It was a little funny," Hermione tried to reason with her. "And besides, you were about to go after her."
"You're damn right I was."
"Honestly," she rolled her eyes, "sometimes you have a temper that rivals Ron's…" The moment she said the words, she placed a hand over her mouth to stifle herself.
Ginny stared with apprehension at her friend. "Is that so?"
"Be reasonable. If you really took a look at yourself, you'd know it to be true." Hermione sighed, resting her hands on her hips. "You let her get under your skin far too much."
"She didn't have to bring Harry and I into it," Ginny glared daggers across the room toward Astoria, who hid behind her sister like a child on her mother's coattails. "Did she think we were back in school, somehow?"
"Well, she's only just graduated in the last two years, hasn't she? I don't imagine she's quite as...mature as us," Hermione tried to phrase her meaning with just the right framing. "And I don't imagine a lot of people have ever told her the way she says things is particularly off putting…"
"Just because she comes from money doesn't give her the right to say whatever the bloody Hell she wants. Especially when it comes to Harry's and my non-engagement!" Ginny ended her rant with a huff, stomping her way to the refreshment table. There, she gobbled down three tiny sandwich squares and an entire handful of carrots, obviously stress eating. Hermione was just about to stop her when the door to the studio swung open, and a very disgruntled (and still somehow devilishly handsome -no, wait, no, bad!) Draco Malfoy entered, his hair disheveled as if he'd been running his hands through it anxiously. Almost immediately, Astoria Greengrass bursted across the room and began grooming his hair, tittering and smiling. Malfoy seemed alright enough with it, but he looked distracted.
Oh, what am I doing? I shouldn't be staring at him like this. He's just a man. Not even that. Just a man-child with a sharp jaw and piercing eyes and a bum so taut… Hermione really needed to purchase a personal toy to help her with her problem, because thinking about Malfoy this way was not helping.
"Oi, fancy-pants?" Blaise Zabini called out to Greg. "Where in the seven Hells is your father? We're not paying him so we can stand around and look pretty. We do plenty of that on our own time."
"My father loves his dramatic entrances," replied Greg. "Why don't you ask the trunk?"
As if on cue, the latch to the trunk burst open, and the top swung open wide. Señor Diggle popped out in a parade of glitter and confetti, his mustache curled back so tight it nearly touched his nose. With a twinkle, the dance instructor stepped forward and said, "¡Bienvenido!"
"You have to be kidding me," muttered Malfoy from across the room as all of the women - sans Hermione, of course - began to clap wildly at Señor Diggle's entrance.
"¡Gracias! ¡Gracias! You're too kind." Diggle gave a tremendous bow.
"What in Merlin's name was that?" Zabini asked, his mouth agape.
Diggle strolled right up to him, pushed Blaise's jaw up with the tip of his finger to close it, and answered, "That is called la bravata, or bravado to those non-bilinguals. Magic is full of it, Señor Zabini! As is dance. And in order to dance el Tango, you must be prepared for the unexpected moments and give them back tenfold! You must be as bold as the unforeseen if you are to succeed in my classroom."
"It sounds like you just wanted to make a showy entrance," Hermione said, crossing her arms.
"I think it was brilliant," Astoria interjected, still clapping lightly. "And wildly unexpected."
"As is our lesson for today, I assure you." Señor Diggle stomped the floor three times, and a glowing, red X appeared in the center of the dance area. "Señor Malfoy. If you'd be so kind." He gestured to the X. Malfoy raised an eyebrow, exchanged nervous glances with his friends, and strolled to the marked area, a bit uneasy if anything. "Si, right there. And señorita Granger? Could you please join him?"
Both Hermione's and Malfoy's eyes widened at the same time. It was one thing, working together in privacy, but totally another to be wedged together in a setting made up of friends and strangers.
"What does this have to do with-" Hermione began, but Diggle cut her off with a wave of his hand.
"The X, please."
Sighing, Hermione did as was asked, only standing on the very edges of the large X, just as Malfoy did to the other side. Neither one of them appeared in good spirits about the turn of events. Just what was Diggle up to?
"Today we will be learning the power of the unexpected, queridos míos!" With a snap of his fingers, Hermione was blind. Soft cloth graced over her eyes and the tops of her cheeks. Oh no.
"Please don't let this be what I think it is…" growled Malfoy, reaching out and grabbing Hermione's arm firmly as if he feared falling now that he was blind. Not that she could help him any. The blind leading the blind, and all…
"Dance!" Diggle's voice was drowned out by upbeat, melodic music.
"You want us to dance?" Hermione gasped, trying to rip her blindfold off. "Señor Diggle, this is beyond a normal dance lesson!"
"You must be prepared for the unexpected," Diggle said from somewhere far away. "Now, dance."
"Great Circe's tit…" Malfoy grumbled, reaching out and grabbing Hermione around the waist, as if he knew exactly where she was. Of course he didn't, so it was purely by luck, but the moment his hand slipped around her back she felt her heartbeat quicken. He pulled her to him with little effort, stumbling around until he found her hand and set it in his. "He's not going to let us go until we do what we're asked like good little house elves," Malfoy whispered, "so let's just get it bloody-well over with." And with a gentle nudge, he guided her forward, much like their previous private lesson. Remembering his jerky movements, Hermione compensated and kept his pace, trying ever so hard to recall how he tugged her around last time. Malfoy, to his credit, was easier with her, and they fell into a gentle rhythm of side steps and bounces.
"Of all of the people in this class," Malfoy chided under his breath, quiet enough so that only Hermione could hear, "why is it always you? -Left."
Hermione was quick on the draw, sidestepping to the left quickly and earning a sound of approval from the audience. "Believe me," she muttered back, "this isn't my slice of heaven, either. -Too fast." To her relief, Malfoy slowed down just a tad, making it easier to catch up. She began to realize she was...used to dancing with him.
All of the dizzying dreams of him between her legs and brushed up behind her flooded into her mind at once, and it didn't help that, as she stepped back, she used the wrong foot and caused them both to crash into one another with his leg between hers. "Are you knackered, Granger? Keep up," he seethed, though there was a hint of something else in his tone. Tension. Tension that didn't stem from anger.
As Hermione found her footing once more, unsure of where they were going or even if they were near the X anymore, she whispered, "Are you alright? You seem stressed."
"Hi. I'm a Malfoy. Stress is my life."
"Is it? I thought being pampered day in and day out was."
"Quippy. You know, dancing with you blindfolded nearly made me forget how annoying you are -until you opened that mouth of yours. I honestly have no idea what all the fuss over you is about."
"Fuss?"
The music stopped.
"¡Muy bien!" Señor Diggle shouted, and a moment later, the blindfolds were gone. "That is how to deal with the unexpected!" He began to clap, and, one by one, the other students in dance class begun to as well. Everyone, that was, except for Astoria, who gave the smallest of contact with her fingers to imitate the clap. "Pair up! Remember your basic steps and listen to your partner's bodies." Placing a hand on both Hermione's and Malfoy's shoulders, he said, quieter, "I'm extremely proud of the both of you. Look how far you've come in such a short amount of time. I am truly an excellent teacher." And with that, he walked away, head up high and proud.
Malfoy smirked for half a moment, much like he did in Hermione's dreams. It made her blush. "And here I thought he couldn't be humble." With a wink, he strolled away to find Astoria, leaving Hermione all alone.
Well, almost.
"Looking for a dance partner?" It was Greg, his hands tucked neatly behind his back. Hermione spun around to meet his smile.
"You're not one to give up, are you?" she raised an eyebrow.
"I'm never one to shy away from a challenge, no." He offered out his hand. "It's either myself or my father."
"Then I suppose you'll have to do," she said quickly, taking his hand and following him to a corner of the dance floor. "Are these blindfolds really necessary?"
"In my opinion? No. But I'm not the instructor here, am I?" Greg said, almost bitter. He caught himself, though, and forced a cleaner smile on his face. "Forgive me. I'm not here to bore you with my personal life."
"No, you're here to lead me around blindly while I step on your toes," Hermione teased just as the blindfold reappeared over her face. "Oh, dear…"
"Relax," Greg offered, pulling her to him and pressing them close. "Just concentrate on the sound of my voice."
"I guess a bit of small chat would be nice, then," she admitted while he began to lead her in a few simple steps. They were easy enough to follow, but the pace was slower, and she didn't know Greg the way she knew Malfoy when it came to following the lead. Malfoy was jerkier, and therefore easier to predict when he would decide to change pace; Greg was fluid, like water, and Hermione found herself being cast around like a plank in the waves more than a partnership of 'dance expression.' Was this how normal people danced? There was far less anger, that was for sure… "So, have you always wanted to study dance?" she asked. Might as well get to know him. It might solidify him as a potential partner and get Malfoy out of your mind!
"From the time I could walk," he told her, "and maybe before then. My mother was breathtaking on stage. You remind me of her."
"Was she a terrible dancer, too?"
"Ha. If she were here, she would dig her heel into your side for suggesting such a thing. - She was headstrong. Knew how to put men in their place."
"Sounds like a lovely woman."
"She was."
The emphasis on was caused Hermione to pause. "I'm sorry…"
"Don't be. It was a long time ago. This dance studio used to be hers. I hope to inherit it one day, if my father ever decides to retire."
Hermione smiled, though she realized he couldn't see it. "Big ambitions."
"I'm an ambitious man. And you're an ambitious woman, or so I've been told. - Have dinner with me."
"Ouch, Draco, darling, that's my toe."
"Well, Astoria, sweetheart, I wouldn't step on your toe if you could follow my lead."
This bickering had gone on since they begun their blindfolded dance and had yet to end, ten grueling minutes later. With no end in sight, pun intended, Draco tried very hard to bite his tongue and not snip at his future wife. His meeting with his mother had left him on edge, and it didn't help that the moment he saw Granger in class he became a nervous ninny for no reason at all. It wasn't as if she could read his mind and see his dirty thoughts of her, but pairing that with nothing in his life going the way he thought it would made for a very disgruntled Draco Malfoy today. Astoria made matters ten times worse when she said, just to spite him,
"Do you mean if I followed your lead the way that Granger girl did?"
His arms tensed, and Draco stopped dancing. "What?"
"You seemed to get on with her just fine."
"She and I don't get on."
"Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Then why were you blushing like a fool?"
Once again, Draco Malfoy bit his tongue. Had he been? "Maybe, love, I didn't feel comfortable on stage with everyone else watching."
"That's never been a problem for you before."
"Yes, well, I'm usually wonderful at most everything I do," he said. "Really. You've nothing to worry about."
But Draco didn't believe his own words. He'd hoped that seeing Granger again would diminish the built up dream version of her into a pile of rubble, but it only solidified this unbecoming fantasy of his to have her pressed against him. He didn't understand why seeing her today made the fantasy Granger spring to life in his mind. But it didn't help that Astoria had done nothing but baby him since the moment he walked in, messing with his hair and babying him like his mother.
Eventually, the blindfolds came off, and Draco could see the irritation -and dare he think it- sadness in Astoria's eyes. Every few minutes, he would catch her glancing across the dance floor.
"Something on your mind, Tori?" he asked her, trying to keep to the steps provided. Astoria, however, didn't seem to care about his pacing, taking to her own and causing him to scuff her shoes up further.
"I'm beginning to see why you don't like her…" Astoria muttered.
"Granger?"
"What? No, she seems fine to me. That Weasley woman. She seemed miffed at me when I brought up her invitation to our wedding."
Draco paused in his dance steps. "How did you phrase it?"
"What sort of question is that?" Astoria's eyes shot up to meet his.
He could tell he was walking on dragon eggshells, so he rephrased, "What exactly did you say to her?"
"I asked her if Potter had told her about my invitation. Nothing more." Shrugging, the woman gave a heavy sigh. "Maybe it's just wedding stress, but I get the feeling nothing is going right anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"My dress has seemed to shrink since I ordered it made-" Draco assumed it had something to do with all of the cake Astoria sampled as of late, though she still looked perfect, "-you can't dance-" Now that wasn't exactly fair; he was taking dance lessons, "And now Harry Potter might not show up to our wedding all because I've pissed off his...whatever she is to him." There were so many things wrong with her statement, Draco took a moment to process.
"Why does it matter if Potter comes to our wedding?" he asked.
"Do you want it to be the social event of the century or don't you?" Astoria released Draco's hand.
"If that means having to add one more fish dinner to a man I can hardly stand, then no. Since when did we care about having the 'social event of the century'? I'm marrying you, Tori, not the entire wizarding world." Draco felt his frustration grow. "Or are we not marrying for love anymore? But social status?"
Astoria paled, and her eyebrows creased together. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"I'll have you know, Draco Malfoy, I am only trying to appease your parents, and my parents, and everyone else involved in this wedding - as you seem to want no part in it."
"That's not fair," Draco exclaimed, forcing his voice quiet as to not make a scene. "I'm a man. Weddings just aren't my thing."
"Blaise was involved in his wedding planning."
"Yes, and Blaise is pussy whipped by Daphne to the highest degree."
"That's my sister."
"Yes, and it's my best friend she's got wrapped around a chain."
Astoria stared, taken aback. "Apologize."
"I will not. It's true."
"Yes, well here's another truth: you're being a git."
"Rather a git that speaks his mind than pretending I want Potter at our wedding."
"Oh, you're impossible!" Astoria shouted, drawing the attention of the classroom. "Don't bother coming to bed tonight! You're sleeping on the sofa!" She strutted away to the door, yanking it open with all her might.
"Hey! It's my bed!" Draco said childishly as she slammed the door behind her, leaving him with all eyes on the mess of their fight. His ears burned as he glared across the dance floor and sneered, "What are you lot looking at?"
"Ahem…" said Diggle, clapping his hands together. The music ceased. "I believe that concludes lessons for the day...Señor Malfoy, a word?"
Time passed quickly as people began to filter out of the dance studio. Draco ignored Daphne's offer to talk or Blaise's subtle shoulder pat and opted to turning his back on them as they walked by, too embarrassed to address what had just happened. - But what had just happened? Did he and Astoria honestly have a bickering competition in front of everyone? What the bloody Hell was that about?
And why didn't he feel more sorry about it?
"Care to explain what just happened in the middle of my dance lesson?" asked Diggle, approaching Draco while twisting his mustache between his fingers.
"Not really…" Draco grumbled.
"Como desées, but be warned; if it happens again in my class-"
"Yeah, yeah… I get it."
"What do you think that was about?" asked Hermione to Ginny as they strolled down the hallway on their way to the floo.
"Haven't a clue. Did you see the way she stormed out? He obviously did something wrong," said Ginny. "No woman makes that grand of an exit without a reason."
Hermione stopped mid-stride, glancing back toward the door just as Diggle stepped out. Malfoy wasn't with him, which meant he was still back in the classroom. "I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?" Ginny asked. "Hermione?" But Hermione was already strolling back to the classroom. When she pulled open the door, she found Malfoy sitting at the edge of the dance floor, staring at himself in the mirror, legs tucked up to his chest. He noticed her arrival and glared up at her in the mirror.
"What do you want?"
"Are you alright?" she asked, unsure why she cared so much. Maybe it was because she didn't like seeing anyone sitting there with such a crestfallen look on their face, even if it was Malfoy.
"What do you care?"
"I don't," she shrugged, "but I imagine your egocentric pride does. Any I imagine any chance you have to talk about yourself you'll take." His response was a snort, so she took her chances and sat down beside him. "Or don't talk about it. That's fine. But I don't think you need to be alone right now."
"I'm fine-"
"-Sure you are. But you still don't need to be alone." She tried her best warm smile and imitated him, tucking her legs up to her chest. "So we can sit here in silence, if that's what you prefer."
"Hmph…" Malfoy turned his head away and tucked it between his knees to hide the redness in his cheeks. The minutes ticked by, and Hermione wondered if this was all a mistake until he muttered, "What ever happened between you and Weasley?"
Caught off guard, Hermione took a moment to understand his question. "You...what?"
"Did you fight like this?" he asked. "Is this how the end starts?"
Hermione's eyebrows shot up to her hairline, and she gaped at the Malfoy man and his vulnerability. Quickly, she stifled it and cleared her throat. "No. Ron and I didn't fight -ever. I think...I think that was part of the problem."
"So why did you end it, then?"
"Why do you assume I ended it?"
"Didn't you?"
Hermione bit her tongue. Well, there was no arguing about the semantics. She did end it. She inhaled, thinking. "Ron loved me. And I think I loved him. But there were moments...he couldn't accept my geekiness, for one thing."
"To be fair, that's not really his fault. You're a bundling ball of bookworm."
"Do you want your answer or not?" She continued, "I need someone I don't need to control like a child. I didn't want to always check to see if he packed his breakfast, if he did the laundry, or if he wrote to his mum. Ron… he's a great man, but he needs a sitter. I…need someone independent. Someone I can show my weaker, vulnerable sides without being judged. Someone who challenges me, takes me to my personal boundaries and over them, someone with whom an argument ends in make up sex and cuddling, not him sulking at his mother's kitchen table." Hermione realized she'd begun to ramble and quickly blushed at her confession. "All in all, we just aren't compatible. And when he asked me to marry him...I couldn't do it."
"So, commitment issues, then?"
"No! I just happened to know I wasn't ready to settle down. There's nothing wrong with knowing what I want out of life."
Malfoy nodded, running his hands through his hair. "I can't figure it out, Granger - why she treats me like a child."
"Well, do you act like a child?"
He smirked, sticking out is tongue. "No. - I just don't understand why she's so on edge all the time."
"She's planning a wedding, Malfoy. It's to be expected. Talk to her." Hermione reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, noticing how soft the sleeve of his shirt felt beneath her palm. She imagined he would be as cold as his persona, but he burned bright and vivid - much like the stars he was named for. Hermione couldn't help the small blush she felt when Malfoy's eyes trailed over to her hand. "I'm sure you can work this out. If she's what you want, you shouldn't let anything stand in your way to get to her. She makes you happy, yes?"
Malfoy continued to stare at her hand, lost in thought.
"If you love her, show her." Their eyes caught, and her heart did a somersault inside her chest. She retracted her hand. "Or don't waste her time. Give her time to move on, like what I did for Ron." With that, Hermione stood up, retreated to the door, and for once was thankful for her curls. They hid her blush ever so well.
Hope you liked it! Shall update soon.
~A.
- 8
- 9
- 10
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Tango