Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

I Love It When You Dance With Me	By : BelladonnaLaMorte Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 5084 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything nor do I make any money from this. Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling

Chapter List
- 1-I Love It When You Dance With Me
- 1
Title: I Love It When You Dance With Me

Pairing: Draco/Harry, Sirius/Remus (in the background), various other pairings (slash and het)

Rating: PG13

Summary: Harry has just been accepted at the Phoenix Academy of Ballet for the last year of his training. His aim is to make it into their prestigious and world-renowned company. New ballet-master and ex-principal, Draco Malfoy takes a shine to the newest dancer. Alternate Universe – no magic. One-shot.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of the other recognisable ballets, characters or film scenes. They all belong to J.K. Rowling and various choreographers and directors respectively. I make no money from this.

Authors Note: My first foray into the world of Drarry. I hope you enjoy it!!

Harry smiled nervously and somewhat shyly at the receptionist, grateful for the reassuring presences at his back, as she gave him the key to his rooms as well as directions on how to get there. He was finally here at the Phoenix Academy of Ballet. He had spent so many years of dreaming about this day and it was finally here. He only wished that it hadn’t come at the detriment of his relationship with his father. James Potter hated the dancing world and had done for the last seventeen years. Harry’s mother had been a principal ballerina with the Phoenix Ballet Company, famed world-over for her interpretation of the major roles, and James had irrationally blamed the dancing world for the death of his wife. After his graduation James had gone to work in the family business, taking over when his father died. He enjoyed it but it wasn’t a life-long dream like dancing had been for Lily. Even when she had discovered that she was pregnant she had refused to stop dancing. She had continued dancing on stage until she had begun showing and then she had taken more of a background role as a ballet mistress but continuing to take classes with the rest of the company. When she was seven months pregnant, she left with the company on a month long tour of Europe. A month later, just days before she was due to return home, she was knocked over by a speeding car outside La Scala in Milan and died on the operating theatre while her premature son barely survived. James, on his return from Italy, retreated into seclusion to mourn his wife and raise his baby son.

He had tried so hard to keep Harry away from that world but it was all for nothing. Harry had seen a video of Lily dancing the lead role in Giselle at his godfather Remus’ house at the age of four and had fallen in love with the whole thing. Remus had secretly started taking Harry to a local class every week and then tiny boy proved that he had his mother’s talent as well as his own natural abilities. By the time he was nine, Remus was taking him down to London for lessons every weekend with professors from the Royal Ballet School. Remus wasn’t bothered about going against James’ wishes because first and foremost he was Lily’s best friend. He had been a repetiteur at Phoenix when he met the young ballerina and they had just clicked. On a rare night out from the Academy they had met James Potter and his best friend Sirius Black. It had been every well known clich�; love at first sight, fireworks when they kissed and neither couple had looked back. It had been Remus who had been Harry’s rock; he had organised Harry’s audition at Phoenix, taken him, held his hand, calmed his nerves and taken him out for a celebratory meal when the results came in. When Sirius had realised what they had done and just how badly Harry wanted this dream he had stood by his lover and godson, promising to support them regardless.

Harry blinked as Sirius pulled him to a halt in front of a door that had four recognisable names on the door. He looked incredibly nervous and wide-eyed as he looked back at his godfathers.

“Remy, why are we here? Surely these are the company dorms.”

Remus smiled weakly. “They are the company dorms little one. There are no spaces left in the boy’s dorm for your age group and you weren’t just accepted on your audition. You were scouted which isn’t unheard of. Albus has been watching you for yours and whilst you will be primarily training in the Academy you will also be dancing in the Company as part of the corps. I didn’t tell you before this because I didn’t want you to panic. You can do this. Siri and I believe in you.”

Sirius nodded in agreement. “What he said. Come on kiddo, let’s get your stuff in your room, my arms are about to drop off!”

Harry’s soft giggles broke the tension and he pushed the door open to be greeted by four faces wearing expectant looks. Harry gulped and took a step into the room after a light shove in the back from Sirius.

“Erm hi, I’m Harry Potter.”

A tall guy with brown hair and eyes and a Scots accent got off the bottom of one of two bunk beds. “Hi Harry, I’m Oliver Wood and this is Viktor Krum. The two red-heads over there are Bill and Charlie Weasley. You’re the fresh meat for Snape in the corps then?”

Remus’ head snapped up at this comment. “Snape? As in Severus Snape? He’s in charge of the corps? I wasn’t aware that he had retired from professional dancing.”

Oliver’s attention shifted to the sandy-haired man behind Harry. “Yeah, Snape and Lucius are in charge of the company. Malfoy drills the whole company and the principals while Snape takes the corps and the older boys at the Academy. Harry here will spend a lot of time with old Snapey. You know him then?”

Remus nodded. “Very well in fact. I was the senior repetiteur here at the company for years until Harry was four. Anyway Harry, we’ll go and let you get settled in.”

Harry stepped out of the room and exchanged fierce hugs with the older men, feeling reassured by their promises that they would visit him whenever they wanted and that they were only ever at the end of the phone.

***

Two days later and Harry was walking into his first ballet class as a student of the Academy. The previous day had been spent meeting the director Albus Dumbledore, the principal of the Academy Minerva McGonagall, the school nurse Madame Pomfrey and the physiotherapist Madame Hooch. The rest of his time had been spent with his roommates whom, to his delight, he got on extremely well with despite the fact that none of them were in the corps and they were all significantly older than him. Bill and Viktor were principals whilst Charlie and Oliver were First Soloists. They had warned him what to expect and who to watch out for. The majority of his time would be spent with the Academy students until the corps started rehearsing in earnest for the big works of the Christmas season. Thus, when the Academy had its weekends, Harry would be rehearsing.

He looked up from his stretching as others started to drift in. He immediately saw the bright ginger of Ron Weasley, Bill and Charlie’s little brother, and his cronies Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas. The elder Weasley’s had told him who to look out for in the class and had warned him that Ron could be problematic. He was apparently a year older than Harry and was rather bitter that he hadn’t graduated the previous year and been asked to join the company. He smiled shyly back as a tall, brown-haired, friendly looking young man smiled at him and came over to introduce himself.

“Hi! Harry isn’t it? I’m Neville Longbottom. It’s nice to meet you.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile back at him as they shook hands. “Yes, I’m Harry. Nice to meet you too.” He was hoping that here was someone who he could be friends with at the Academy. At the same time he remembered Oliver saying that Neville was being considered for the company as an artist. Any further that he was intending on saying was halted by the entrance of the man he knew to be Severus Snape.

“Gentlemen, before we start this morning’s class I have some news that will no doubt cheer you up. You only have to tolerate me for the next two weeks. At that point you will have a new ballet master, Mr Draco Malfoy. I’m sure many of you have heard of Mr Malfoy and even seen him. He was recently injured whilst working as a principal guest artist with the American Ballet Company. Whilst he recuperates he will be your ballet master before retaking his position in the company. That being said, to the barre gentlemen. Pli�s.”

As he turned to speak to the pianist Ron took the opportunity to whisper some comments to his little friends. He wasn’t sure how he could do it without attracting Snape’s attention but he failed miserably.

“Weasley, Finnegan, Thomas! Get your arses to the barre. I said pli�s, not stop and gossip like a bunch of women.”

Harry smiled to himself as he found a spot for himself at the barre just in front of Neville and lost himself in the welcoming familiarity of the exercises. As the class progressed through the centre work and into the jumps section he learnt that Severus Snape was a relentless taskmaster who demanded nothing but the best from his students and when the best wasn’t produced he was both scathing and sarcastic. It made Harry incredibly relieved that he had been trained well and he soon realised that not only could he keep up with the class easily but he was leaps and bounds ahead of many of them. A gruelling three hours later the class ended, much to everyone’s relief. Harry pulled on his tracksuit over his tights and t-shirt, not bothering to take his shoes off and was about to head for a coffee with Neville when he heard the mellifluous tones of his ballet master.

“Mr Potter .... A word please.”

Harry nodded and told Neville to go ahead without him and walked over to the tall, dark man.

“Follow me please Mr Potter.” He led the way into a small office just next to the studio, covered in posters of the man as a younger dancer with the late Lily Evans. “Take a seat. Would you like a coffee?”

Harry sat gobsmacked by the change in personality between the class and now. Snape obviously noticed as he let out a dark chuckle.

“None of the students in the Academy will ever see me like this. You are at an advantage Harry; you are both a member of the company and also the son of my best friend.”

Harry leaned forward eagerly. “You were mum’s partner. Will you tell me about her? Remy’s told me as much as he can but you danced with her every day. Dad won’t talk about her, he won’t talk to me.”

“Remy? Remy Lupin?”

“Mm hmm, he’s my godfather. Do you know him well?”

Snape raised one perfect eyebrow. “But of course. Remy trained at our affiliate Phoenix Academy of Music and worked exclusively with Lily and myself from the age of fourteen. We were very close until your mother’s death; then Remus worked solely at the music academy and I’ve never danced with a permanent partner since. Now, I solely dance the character roles.” He lowered his coffee mug and stared Harry straight in the eye. “You may come and talk to me about your mother whenever you want. You have her talent and her looks. There is very little of your father about you. Now, the cast lists go up today for the season up until the New Year. You are being thrown into the deep end somewhat as you will be dancing in The Nutcracker and Cinderella over the Christmas period then Giselle from the end of January. We have Mayerling in production now, going on stage in three weeks. One of our artists has seen Madame Pomfrey this morning and she has confirmed that he has strained his Achilles tendon and will be unable to dance. You will be replacing Mr Flint and you are expected in the small practise studio tonight at seven pm to meet Lucius. He will run through things with you and then you will be expected in full rehearsal on Thursday. You will be excused from the requisite academy classes. You are dismissed Mr Potter.”

Harry nodded, placed his cup on the desk and slipped out of the room grabbing his shoes as he did so. He needed to talk to Remy or Siri; he wasn’t sure whether to be excited or terrified about his upcoming debut.

***

Two weeks later and Harry was exhausted but extremely happy as long as he wasn’t within his Academy classes. Ron Weasley and the other boys made his time miserable and the only friend he had was Neville Longbottom. On the other hand, in the corps everything was going wonderfully well. He was getting on well with his roommates and he appeared to have fitted seamlessly into the corps. Rehearsals were stepping up as the ballet premiered in a week’s time and Harry had already done one physio session that morning but he was now on his way to his first class to be taken by Draco Malfoy.

Draco, son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, was a principal artist with the Phoenix Ballet Company. He was also in the later stages of recovery from a badly dislocated knee. He was wanted as a principal guest artist the world over and was famously known for becoming a principal at the age of twenty-one, following in his father’s footsteps. Lucius, now the senior ballet-master at Phoenix as well as an occasional character artist had met Narcissa Black, then a lowly costumer whilst appearing as a guest artist at the Royal Ballet. After their marriage and once Narcissa was pregnant with Draco they had moved to Phoenix and stayed there ever since. It was only fitting that Draco would return to Phoenix for the final stages of his rehabilitation and for his anticipated return to the stage as the prince in Cinderella. Now twenty-six, Draco was looking to make a return to the top of his game for the remainder of his career as a top-flight dancer. Harry had seen him dance once five years ago as Prince Siegfried in Swan Lake at his Royal Ballet debut. Remus and Sirius had taken him as a twelfth birthday present and he’d been in awe. Now here he was, five years later, about to take part in a class taught by the man.

As he entered the studio his eye was immediately drawn to the blond man stood by the piano. Physically he was a younger version of Lucius although there were traces of Narcissa in his features. He had the same commanding presence as Lucius and Severus and Harry could see both men’s influence. Knowing both men’s penchant for time-keeping, and with a gut feeling that Draco would be the same, he slipped over to the mirrors, pulled off his hoodie, slipped on his shoes and started to stretch himself out, failing to notice the mercury orbs following his every move as he warmed up.

A distinctly predatory grin spread across Draco Lucius Malfoy’s face as he watched the teenager in the corner. Harry James Potter. The latest prot�g� of the Phoenix Ballet Company’s eccentric, reclusive yet brilliant director Albus Dumbledore. The student at the Academy who was also a member of the Company, something that hadn’t been done since Draco himself was seventeen, the same age as Harry was now. He was also very impressed by the reports he had received from his father and godfather; they never liked anybody. As he heard the chatter of the rest of the senior students approaching he ran his eyes over Harry in a lingering manner, the predatory grin becoming lecherous. Really, this young man was everything that Draco was attracted to. Draco had never made any secret of the fact that he was attracted to his own sex and he couldn’t help but pray that Harry was the same. Shoulder-length black hair with deep red highlights tied in a ponytail and held back with a bandana, bright emerald green eyes, a lithe compact form that was perfectly formed and muscled. The perfect build for a dancer. Mercury eyes gleamed in delight as sweatpants were pushed down to reveal the most delectable arse the young Malfoy had ever seen. Oh yes, he was going to enjoy teaching this class very much.

Harry blushed for what felt like the millionth time that class. For some reason, Draco had singled him out from the very beginning and was constantly finding some reason to touch Harry, no matter how innocent or innocuous. Each new touch was making Harry hyper-aware and hyper-sensitive of himself. The only thing that was keeping him under control was the fact that he was in the middle of ballet class wearing a pair of tights. He had realised when he was fifteen that he was gay after his eyes wandered in the direction of the other boys at White Lodge rather than the girls. This had been further reinforced on trips to see professional companies where he was much more appreciative of the male assets on display. He was lucky in that Remus and Sirius were incredibly supportive and while his father wasn’t over enthusiastic, neither was he disapproving. Since his realisation however, he hadn’t felt attracted to anybody who was remotely attainable and his biggest crush had been on the man stood behind him. The man who was his new ballet master. He was so completely and utterly screwed. He tensed up as he felt someone stood behind him. A large warm hand landed on his shoulder, dropping it back down into position.

“Very nice until you tensed up Harry. Hold it for a few more seconds. Class, this is how this position should look. Harry has it down perfectly.”

Harry continued to hold the arabesque, losing himself to the point that time and the pain ceased to matter. He came back to himself as he heard Draco’s smooth voice behind him.

“Weasley, what on earth do you call that? It sure as hell isn’t an arabesque. Your supporting foot is sickling and there’s no way you’re turning out enough. You need to turn out from your hips. Lower your shoulders, extend your arms and more elevation in the back. That’s more like it. Right,” here he clapped his hands loudly, “you can drop the position. To the back corner please, grand jet� diagonally across the room, one at a time. Mr Longbottom, we’ll start with you.”

Forty-five minutes later, the exhausted class gave their reverence and tiredly pulled on their sweatpants and hoodies. Harry did this as quickly as possible, needing to talk to his roommates or his godfathers, desperate for advice. He had almost succeeded in making it out of the room when a hand grabbed him by the elbow.

“Nice class Mr Potter, I’m impressed. It would appear that Dad and Uncle Sev were right. I look forward to seeing you in the rehearsals this afternoon.”

Harry’s shy smile of pleasure at the compliment froze on his face. “Th-this afternoon? You’re coming to the Mayerling rehearsal?”

“Yes. Dad and Uncle Sev wanted another set of eyes to look over things.”

Harry just nodded and fled as quickly as possible. He didn’t get far before he was cornered by Ron as well as Andrew and Peter, two other boys that Draco had singled out for criticism that morning.

“So Potter, teacher’s pet. How much sucking up have you done with our new master?” Ron’s comment was accompanied by a particularly hideous leer.

“I haven’t had to suck up at all. I can’t help it if I can do everything whilst you haven’t seemed to grasp the concept of turn-out. I had been led to believe that they taught that to the babies.” Harry had a hot temper courtesy of Lily but he very rarely lost it unless he was provoked. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and eat now as I have rehearsals with the company this afternoon.”

Not giving them any chance to reply he pushed through them and ran to his down, hoping that at least one of the other guys were there. The four older guys had become like older brothers to him, particularly the Weasley’s. Three of them were in long term relationships; Bill was engaged to a French ballerina, Fleur Delacour, his permanent partner, Viktor was dating one of the other principals, an Englishman by the name of Cedric Diggory that Harry was convinced he had seen around White Lodge when he first started there and Charlie was dating another Malfoy, Scorpius, Draco’s younger brother who at twenty-one was still four years older than Harry. Oliver was a playboy of the highest calibre, not fussy whether his conquests were male or female. At one point he had dated both Fred and George, Bill and Charlie’s twin brothers. With all their experience, maybe they were the best people to ask rather than Remus and Sirius. To his relief, when he flung himself in through the door of their room, all four men were there, and they turned to stare at him in surprise and curiosity.

He whimpered and collapsed back onto his bed, hiding his head under his pillow. “I’m completely buggered.”

The quartet exchanged grins and then after a silent conversation Charlie got up and sat next to Harry’s head, peeling the pillow off his head.

“Why are you buggered trouble? What happened in class today? Did Ron do something?”

“No, Ron was just being his usual charming, obnoxious self. He wasn’t the problem.”

“So what was?” Oliver sounded eager for the gossip.

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. I have a ridiculous crush on my ballet master. I’ve been crushing on him for the last two years and then he kept touching me today.”

This got everybody’s attention and they all started talking at once.

“Draco Malfoy. Lucius’ son?”

“He’s bloody gorgeous. Criminal he’s still single.”

“He was touching you?!”

“He’s corrupting our little brother!”

This last was uttered by Charlie in a rather melodramatic fashion, earning him a thumping from the afore-mentioned pillow.

“He’s not corrupting me thank you very much. I mean, it was almost like he was flirting with me; it felt like he was watching me from the minute that I walked in. It doesn’t make sense though. Why would he be flirting with me? I mean he’s gorgeous!!”

“Harry, Harry, little Harry. When are you going to realise that you’re also gorgeous. Yes, Draco is gorgeous and yes he may be ten years older than you but that doesn’t mean he’s unattainable.” Charlie and Oliver exchanged wicked grins before Oliver spoke.

“We’re going to get our little Harry a boyfriend!”

Harry groaned and tried to steal his pillow back but failed miserably. Bill laughed and spoke out.

“Seriously Harry, you’re a good looking kid and I’m saying that as a completely straight guy. After rehearsals on Friday a bunch of us are going to a dance club. We don’t have rehearsals until Saturday afternoon so it’ll be fine. You should come with us.” He raised an eyebrow. “Draco’s coming with us. Most of us are friends with him from before he went to ABC. The club’s a good night; salsa, samba, even some tango. You’ll enjoy yourself.”

Harry looked warily at the older dancers. He wanted to go so badly but at the same time he couldn’t help but be wary. Nevertheless, he would never get anywhere if he didn’t take some risks.

“I really hope I’m not going to regret this but yes I’ll come.”

“Yes!” Charlie and Oliver cheered as the Scotsman made a dive for Harry’s wardrobe.

“I’m going to have so much fun dressing you up.”

***

Two days later and Draco Malfoy was driving Harry crazy. In the ballet classes he took, he used Harry for any demonstrations, manipulating his body as necessary. At the end of each class, Harry found himself dashing for the showers, desperate to avoid being alone with the ballet master. In the afternoon rehearsals for Mayerling, Harry could feel the grey eyes watching his every move. Whilst he wasn’t too eager to be in the man’s company tonight he was looking forward to relaxing a bit. He had been worried about getting into the club but apparently Oliver had had a fling at one point with the bouncer so it wouldn’t be a problem. That afternoon’s rehearsal had been tough; with less than a week till opening night, Malfoy senior and Snape had become even harder to please and every single step, hand gesture and facial expression had to be absolutely perfect. Harry had known that this was going to be hard work just being in the Academy never mind the Company as well, but his bed was looking more and more tempting by the minute. That wasn’t going to happen though as Oliver was dying to play dress-up doll with Harry. He groaned as the Scotsman continued to paw through his wardrobe, throwing out various items of clothing he felt that had potential.

Bill, Charlie and Viktor were all dressed and looking at him sympathetically and the Bulgarian had whispered that it was easier (and quicker!) to just give him free reign and not say anything. Harry planned on doing just that. A mere thirty minutes later (apparently this was quick for Oliver!) he was proclaimed to be “Done!” and he ventured over to the mirror to look at himself. He was pleasantly surprised by what he saw, everything was from his wardrobe but he would never have thought to put them together. Oliver had put him in the sinfully tight black jeans that Sirius had bought him on a trip to London along with a black wife-beater and a black shirt. The only hint of colour was provided by the necklace that had been a present from his godfathers. It was a big piece of amber mounted in silver and in the top of the pendant was a smooth orb of obsidian. It was an unusual combination but Harry loved it as it represented both of his godfathers.

They made their way to the club and the closer they got the more nervous Harry became. As predicted, getting into the club was no problem thanks to Oliver’s willingness to let the bouncer kiss him whilst getting a quick grope in, and then as soon as they were inside they were heading straight for the bar. This realisation caused Harry to panic slightly and he darted up to Bill and tugged on his sleeve, hyper-aware of the age gap between them.

“Bill, erm, I don’t drink alcohol. I just don’t like it. That’s not a major problem is it?”

Bill shook his head, a wide grin splitting his face. “That’s no problem at all. We’re only going to have a couple of cocktails anyway, nothing ridiculous. We can just order you a virgin of whatever you fancy. What would you like?”

“Erm, I’ve never had a cocktail before. Order me whatever you think I’d like please.”

Bill and Charlie exchanged grins and flagged down the nearest barman. “We’ll have six margarita’s, two sex on the beach and one virgin sex on the beach.”

Bill stared at Charlie in surprise. “Charlie? That’s two more drinks than we need. Who are the other two for?”

Charlie nodded his head in the direction of the two blondes sat on a balcony overlooking the dance floor. “My lover and little Harry’s future lover. Come on, drinks first and then I want to dance.”

The entire group trekked up to the balcony and Harry rolled his eyes at the subtlety (or not!) of his friends as he ended up sitting next to Draco. One by one, each duo got up to dance starting with Charlie and Scorpius, Bill and Fleur, Viktor and Cedric and then Oliver with Skandar, the Lebanon-born leader of the Phoenix orchestra until finally it was just Draco and Harry left together in a vaguely uncomfortable atmosphere. Harry was amazed by the fact that two men dancing salsas, sambas and tangos together didn’t even raise an eyebrow. After all, in Buenos Aires, it was the men who taught tango to the boys. Women didn’t even come into it until the boys started attending milongas. He shifted slightly in his seat, wishing that he could dance with Draco. Needing something to do with his hands, he picked up his glass and fiddled with it, draining it quickly. He looked up, startled, as he heard a low chuckle.

“Do I unnerve you that much Harry?”

He was immediately trapped in that mercury gaze and blushed furiously, desperately hoping that the dark of the club hid the bright red of his cheeks.

“Erm, n-n-no?” He hated the fact that his voice sounded questioning and hesitant rather than confident.

Draco smirked; this would be one conquest that he would be keeping for more than a brief fling. He would take great delight in making this fey, skittish creature his.

“Good. In that case you won’t mind dancing with me.” He stood and held a hand out to Harry, who looked reluctant to take it. “Harry, your presence in the Academy is for appearances only. I would be willing to bet that you’re in the company permanently by March. No-one is going to bat an eyelid, I promise. I just want you to dance with me.”

Harry took a deep breath and took the pale hand being held out to him. He followed silently behind Draco as he ransacked his brain for the salsa moves he had learnt previously. As the next track started, he was pulled around to stand closely in front of Draco. They started dancing, slowly at first as they got used to each other’s style of dancing and abilities. Gradually, as the song progressed they sped up, becoming more and more daring in the moves that they were attempting until Harry was laughing and breathless and there was even a small smile visible on Draco’s face. All too quickly the salsa was over and it segued seamlessly into an argentine tango. Harry made as though to pull away from Draco and return to the balcony when, with an embarrassing squeak of surprise, he found himself tugged flush up to Draco’s chest.

“I didn’t say that we’d finished dancing yet kitten.”

Harry made as though to protest but decided that he didn’t really object to the nickname. “I don’t know how to tango though.”

“That’s not a problem little one. Put your left arm around my shoulder and leave the rest to me. You’re a dancer kitten; this will be easy for you.” He pulled Harry close, taking advantage of Harry’s lack of knowledge of the dance to pull him into a close hold, chests rubbing together. He could feel Harry’s breath against his collarbone, the younger male four inches shorter than the blond. The dance was everything that Harry had heard and seen on film; slow, sensual, intimate and erotic as hell. By the end of the dance Harry’s heart was hammering madly in his chest, he was breathing hard and he even felt slightly light-headed.

“Very nice Harry. We’ll have to repeat that later.” With those words, Draco released Harry and ushered him back towards the balcony, one warm hand on the small of his back feeling as though it was burning its way through Harry’s shirt.

At the table were sat Viktor and Cedric as well as Charlie and Scorpius, Charlie and Viktor grinning madly at Harry. There was a satisfied smirk on Scorpius’ face that Harry was sure was matched on the elder Malfoy’s face. He took a sip of the drink indicated as being his and immediately pulled a face.

“Has this got alcohol in it?”

Cedric nodded. “We got you one in case you wanted to try it. If you don’t, we got you another virgin sex on the beach.”

Harry took a few more sips before deciding that he definitely didn’t like it and put it down before reaching for the non-alcoholic drink. He did wonder about showing his age in front of Draco but then remembered something that Remus had said to him; if they don’t like you for who you are then they’re not worth it. He looked up at Cedric and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not a fan. Sorry. I think I’ll stick with the non-alcoholic thanks.”

As he spoke he thought he saw a gleam of approval in Draco’s eye out of the corner of his eye and sat back in his seat to watch the couples on the dance floor. As the night progressed Harry found that he barely sat down all night. He danced with everybody in the group at least once, Charlie, Viktor and Oliver multiple times although he never danced with Draco again until the end of the night. It was announced that the last three dances were going to be tangos and then the club would be closing. Slowly, every couple stood up and drifted onto the dance floor and Harry watched them wistfully before a hand appeared in his eyesight. He followed it back up the arm until he was staring at Draco.

“Come on kitten. It’s time to tango.”

Harry blushed again but willingly traipsed behind the tall blond to the dance floor. He didn’t put up any resistance as he was pulled into the close embrace. This time as they danced, he paid close attention to the other dancers, particularly the women, bringing him to attempt the ochos and ganchos that made the dance what it was. As they moved through the three songs the two men relaxed into each other and the dances became more sexually charged. This was the original erotic dance; the one created in the brothels of Buenos Aires for the pimps to show off their whores. As the last strains of the music faded away, Harry came out of his almost dream-like state to the sensation of a hand running gently up and down his spine. He brought his head up and back and his lips were immediately captured by Draco’s. When they broke apart, Draco’s hand came up to stroke over Harry’s cheekbone and tuck a few errant locks of black hair behind his ears.

“Absolutely beautiful.”

The whisper reached Harry’s ears just before his lips were claimed again. He wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck and closed his eyes, surrendering himself. When he felt a warm, wet tongue pressing insistently against his lips he gasped, allowing it to slip inside. He mewed softly and pressed closer to Draco as one hand pulled him closer and the other speared into the hair at the nape of his neck. He lost track of time as they kissed until he heard an “Ahem!” along with muffled snorts of laughter from his grinning dorm mates.

“Sorry Draco, but we’re going to have to steal Harry away from you – we have rehearsals tomorrow.”

Draco groaned good-naturedly. “I suppose I’m going to have to let you go then. I had a great night.” He leaned forward and dropped a kiss on Harry’s nose. “I’ll see you tomorrow kitten.”

With that he sauntered off with Scorpius, leaving Harry stood in the middle of his friends grinning like an idiot.

***

Harry stood in the wings of the Phoenix Theatre, watching his lover of three months dance The Dance of the Prince in Cinderella. He couldn’t help the thrill that ran through him every time he said that word. Lover. It was still incredibly surreal to think that he was dating Draco Malfoy. The Draco Malfoy that he’d had a crush on for the last two years. Things had taken off after the night at the dance club and whilst he was slightly nervous as he’d never been in a relationship before, Draco had been incredibly understanding in not pushing him further than he was ready for. Even now, they hadn’t slept together and Draco hadn’t pushed him, knowing that at just seventeen Harry was nearly ten years younger than him and not as experienced as him. Harry had asked for advice from his godfathers as well as the other men in his dorm and they were all incredibly helpful, telling him to be assertive and to stick up for himself. If he wasn’t ready he should tell Draco that and if Draco had any respect for him then Draco would accept that and wait until Harry was ready. To Harry’s relief, Draco had acted precisely as they had informed him and he had told Harry that when he was ready he was ready and that he would accept that. Harry smiled as the dance finished and Draco ran off into the wings on the other side of the stage. The crew had been incredibly tolerant of him watching this one dance but he needed to disappear before things became crowded with dancers needing quick changes. He also needed to change for his entry just before the end of Act Two. He knew that tonight he was going to stay with Draco at his flat nearby as they didn’t have to dance the next day – they had a rare day off! He had also come to the realisation that maybe he was finally ready to move on from kissing and mutual groping. The fact that they were going to be in Draco’s apartment and not at the Malfoy’s townhouse (where Draco stayed occasionally) or Harry’s dorm just clinched the deal. In the next few months he had the feeling that all of their dorm would be moving out of their dorm and into either couple’s rooms within the company housing or into their own flats. The only reason that they were staying in them in the first place was because it was subsidised heavily and the pay as a dancer wasn’t wonderful. He shook his head, there was a time and a place for these kinds of thoughts and it wasn’t in the wings – there was only an hour left until the end of the ballet and that would be soon enough.

At the end of the night, walking out of the stage door, make-up cleaned off, back in comfortable clothes and with ballet bags slung over their shoulders, Draco cleared his throat causing Harry to look up at him.

“I’m really sorry about this kitten but Dad wants us to have dinner with him, Scorpius and Uncle Sev tonight at the townhouse. Is that ok?”

Harry pouted, knowing full well what effect it had on Draco. “Do we have to go? I’ve been thinking and I’ve come to the realisation that I’m ready. I was thinking that we could just go back to your flat and ....”

He didn’t even get to finish the sentence. Draco already had his mobile out and Lucius on speed dial.

“Dad? I’m afraid that Harry and I won’t be able to make it tonight. We’re both exhausted, maybe Sunday night? Bye.” He barely gave Lucius the chance to say goodbye before he ended the call.

“TAXI!”

I don't know if anybody is interested in this but, if you're a fan of Draco/Harry stories then I'm offering up a Christmas story to readers in a handmade/handwritten book that I will post to you. The offer is up on my livejournal, the link to which is on my profile page.

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I Love It When You Dance With Me