Dance with the One that Brought You

Chapter 17: Tootsie



Harry didn’t know how it could get any worse. Hermione was upset at him, he didn’t have a date for the upcoming Yule Ball, he couldn’t dance a lick to save an elf’s life, let alone his own, and he still had not figured out the secret of the golden egg for the upcoming second task. His overall out take on things: gloom and doom. He stood in the owlery overlooking the lake as one of the school owls took flight with another missive to Sirius. Even his Godfather’s advice had failed. No, more precisely, he had failed. He still was a complete and utter pillock when it came to the opposite sex. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Blows.

Still brooding, he recalled his rushed “youwannagototheballwithme” invitation to Cho a few minutes ago. She was his second choice, and even she wasn’t available to him. He received unsolicited invitations left, right and center from girls he barely knew, yet he couldn’t speak intelligently to the pretty Ravenclaw.

Not to mention, the not-so-small reminder of the other Triwizard champion from Durmstrang. Harry glanced over at the tall, dark foreboding ship in the lake, took aim at it with an imaginary rifle, cocked it and made his own sound effects for target practice.

All those silly fur hats, black shiny boots and big walking sticks must make them pretty sure of themselves. Honestly!

The lump in his throat and pit in his stomach vied for attention every time he thought about it. Hermione was going to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. Hermione had snogged Krum in front of him. Then she expelled him from the room, in no uncertain terms, forcing him to shove off when he knew good and well he should have stayed and put the Bulgarian in his place.

“This sucks,” he mumbled. He was at a loss at how he could set things to rights.

The whole idea of romancing girls confused Harry. It was enough to stump the great minds of wizard and Muggle alike. No male pureblood, squib, Muggle or anything in-between could ever figure out women. Why would he be any luckier then generation upon generation of wizards that found themselves as befuddled as head banging elves?

Hermione cared about him, he knew this without any cause for doubt. Yet she wouldn’t let him protect her against the invasion from Eastern Europe. When they were at the spring, she kissed him back. She let me kiss her and she kissed me!

He closed his eyes momentarily, recalling her hovering over his face when he leaned back against the edge of the water. They shared a spectacular ‘upside down’ kiss, when she was on the bank of the spring and leaned over his reclined head. It was the most intimate moment of his short fifteen years of life.

He concluded that his best friend, the brightest witch of her age, had him loopy trying to figure her out, but she seemed to understand him perfectly well.

Yet she wouldn’t break things off with Krum. She still insisted on being his date for the Yule Ball. Just wait until Ron find outs!

He instantly knew he wouldn’t be the one to tell Ron. He couldn’t, because he had promised Hermione. He wanted to tell him, just to have someone else who could share in this misery! Or maybe the reason for this sudden need of camaraderie with Ron was because his mate was just as clueless at finding a date to the bloody ball.

Whatever the reason, he wouldn’t breech his word with Hermione. She had her reasons, apparently something to do with Kakaroff’s disapproval. All the more telling: she shouldn’t be going with Krum!

He leaned his head against the windowed opening in the tower and remembered her pleading with him to keep this a secret.

“Why can’t we tell Ron? He’s our friend!”

“Because you know Ron can’t keep a secret like this private! He’ll just make a big scene and soon everyone will know.”

“Hermione, it’s just not on. You’re hiding things from him. Hiding from everyone. Says a lot doesn’t it, when you’ve got to hide things from your own friends? How can this be right?”

“Don’t you dare get ‘holier-than-thou’ with me, Harry! How many times have you kept things from us? How many hundreds of times have you kept secrets from Professor Dumbledore? How about Sirius, I suppose you tell him absolutely everything that’s been going on this year have you?”

Hermione wasn’t wrong. He had kept his own secrets for various reasons. He should probably trust her to be right in this matter. He really wanted to, but the Bulgarian Factor made it very difficult.

Harry smiled to himself as he reached into his robe and withdrew the tightly sealed parchment and walked over to the snow white owl. He stroked her head before he attached the paper.

“Her birthday’s right around the corner,” he mused. “Won’t she be surprised, Hedwig?”

He finished off strapping the leather around the parchment and held out his arm for his pet owl to perch on. Carrying her to one of the many windowed arches, the snowy cooed at him in response.

So, he couldn’t dance. What was the big deal about not having a date to the ball just yet? And who cares if he takes longer than the other champions to figure out the clue in the egg? He wasn’t going to let himself fall apart over any of it.

At least he had a plan.

*****

Draco held his arms open, back erect, and chest puffed out in an ever so confident yet inviting way. For a mere boy of fifteen years, Hermione thought he was scandalous to have so much self assurance! He obviously believed his own propaganda!

She cautiously walked up to face him and he genuinely smiled at her. Not a smirk, or a sneer! She knew all of his trademark Malfoy grins, but this was nothing like that. This was different. His eyes lit up and sparkled, she could see his perfectly straight teeth, and he even had a small dimple in his left cheek that she never noticed before!

He tenderly placed his arm around her back, took her hand in his and led her into a waltz of sorts. She was somewhat timorous at first, but he led with confidence.

Time... I've been passing time watching trains go by
All of my life...
Lying on the sand, watching seabirds fly

“Muggle music?” she questioned, truly surprised at his selection of songs. “Malfoy, how did you get Muggle music to play here?”

Wishing there would be
Someone waiting home for me...

His smile broadened. He quickened his footwork and led both of them into a spin together, lengthening his stride with each turn, keeping his knees from bending, he led her easily with the scissored motion.

Something's telling me it might be you
It's telling me it might be you...
All of my life...

He leaned in closer so that his cheek brushed against her hair. His lips were practically at her ear as he began to hum along with the music.

Looking back as lovers go walking past...
All of my life
Wondering how they met and what makes it last

Something about having Draco Malfoy hum in her ear was just too much for Hermione. She wasn’t sure if it was his selection of music, or the way he had moved closer as they danced. It definitely had something to do with hearing his low, melodic hum from deep in his throat play in her ear so intimately, as if he were doing this just for her.

If I found the place
Would I recognize the face?
Something's telling me it might be you
Yeah, it's telling me it might be you

Hermione leaned her head away from Draco, trying to peer up at his face to see if she could read what his intent was. Why he was acting so nonchalant, and dancing with her as if they’d danced together for years?

“Malfoy?” she queried.

“Shhh,” he hushed her.

He extended his arm out, releasing Hermione’s back, and allowing her to spin as he held her hand, then expertly guided her back to his arms. He swayed in place with her to and fro as he continued to hum. He had such a nice hum.

So many quiet walks to take
So many dreams to wake
And we've so much love to make

“But how do you know this song?” she was puzzled, because she knew he didn’t watch Muggle movies. He made it clear that he hated anything to do with Muggles!

She didn’t have time to wait for his answer, he leaned her into a low dip, and it was at this precise moment that he actually started softly singing the lyrics! Draco Malfoy, pureblood snob, was singing to Muggle music! And he sang so well!

I think we're gonna need some time
Maybe all we need is time...
And it's telling me it might be you
All of my life...

Her years of dance training seemed to be forgotten. She was no longer able to flow lithely to the music. She was overcome with nervous shock at the handsome face that had completely disregarded the fact that he is supposed to hate her, hate the music he’s accompanying with his fine baritone voice, and most especially hate touching her. She was barely able to hide her confusion now. Her feet skipped a few steps, and her hand clasped his tighter.

She couldn’t help but self-consciously glance around the room to see if this was some sort of joke.

“Malfoy,” she repeated.

I've been saving love songs and lullabies
And there's so much more
No one's ever heard before...

His smile never faded the entire time he sang. Her steps had gotten smaller, less certain, much more wary. She was no longer gliding, she was barely able to follow. She was half a beat off with each movement.

He lifted her above him, without warning he extended both arms up in the air, lifting her so that her waist was now at his eye level. She clamped onto his shoulders while calling out his name yet again. He spun her around, and she actually gasped this time. The air felt so heavy to breath in!

Something's telling me it might be you
Yeah, it's telling me it must be you
And I'm feeling it'll just be you
All of my life...
It's you..
It's you...
I've been waiting for all of my life...

When he lowered her from the lift, he did so very slowly, his hands still clasped around her waist. He closed the distance between them, bringing her down against his chest, holding her to him.

Her head was spinning. She was completely disoriented.

“What’s gotten into you, Malfoy?”

He hadn’t spoken a word to her during the entire dance. He just smiled and led her expertly in movement.

Holding her tightly against him, he kept his legs straight and twirled with her. When they came out of the spin he released his hold on her and then gave her a half turn.

Maybe it's you...
Maybe it's you...
I've been waiting for all of my life...

She was now facing the same direction him. He pulled her against his chest, his arms crossed in front of her, holding her as he swayed. He lowered his lips to her ear as he sang softly.

Against her better judgment, she leaned back on to his chest. Hermione couldn’t keep from closing her eyes.

Maybe it's you...
Maybe it's you...
I've been waiting for all of my life...

They continued a slow, lazy sway, even after the musical piece had ended and another began.

All thoughts of his bigotry, his arrogance, his never ending insults all faded away in this moment. It was as if she had latched on to a hidden portkey that had whisked her off into another dimension. In this new, warm world, Draco Malfoy was quite tolerable. He bordered on adorable.

Her head leaned back onto his shoulder, and she felt it before she heard it. The strong and steady pulsing of his heartbeat. She was positive that he must be able to feel hers as well, since her entire body practically vibrated with the thrumming.

Something was horridly amiss!

Hermione regained her bearings, and righted herself from Draco’s chest.

Before she could pull away, he tightened his hold, refusing to let her end their dance.

“Charmed,” he answered.

She lifted her face to his, and questioned merely with eyes.

“That particular song was charmed onto the album. Didn’t you like it?”

She wasn’t sure what to do or say. There were precious few moments in her life when she was speechless, and this was one of them. Of course she liked the song, but it was so disconcerting to have his arms still wrapped around her, and be this close to her arch nemesis.

“Look, Malfoy, I know full well that you couldn’t give a fig for what I like or don’t like. I’m not sure why you’re behaving the way you are, but it’s so...”

“Normal? Human? Impossibly appealing?”

“Un-Slytherinlike!” she finished.

She thrust her weight into breaking off his embrace and turned to face him.

“Since when do you listen to Muggle music? And what insipid prank are you trying to pull this time?”

His smile never faltered. To his credit it truly appeared as if he was enjoying himself.

“You’re much too high strung, Granger. So suspicious of a simple dance. And yet...”

She waited for him to finish, but he simply waved his hand, dismissing the thought.

While the music continued in the background, Draco went about the business of explaining a bit of choreography that he had worked on.

“As you’re aware, in the traditional ballroom waltz, the man steps forward,” he demonstrated this to Hermione without touching her. “Then putting his right leg between his partner's legs, then he takes his left leg forward and to the side.” She automatically followed his leading footwork with corresponding steps.

“Then he closes right to left. In the next bar he steps backward on his left, and it's the lady's turn to step forward on the right.” He held up his arms again, inviting her to join him.

“I want to mix this up a bit. What do you think? Try this, the first step is where you do most of the traveling. It really isn't forward-side-together; it's step-two-three, step-two-three. If you concentrate on the first step and let the other two just happen, you'll find the whole thing much easier.”

Someone had body-snatched Draco Malfoy. Or perhaps he was under the imperius curse. Or ...

She leaned forward and sniffed his neck.

Draco was a bit put off by this and stopped his dancing.

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly sound explanation for you wanting a taste, Granger, but contrary to public opinion, I’m not edible.”

“Polyjuice potion?”

He nearly tripped over his own feet.

“What!”

His smile finally broke.

“No, on second thought, I suppose that can’t be it either, because we’ve been here for well over an hour now,” she reasoned.

He cleared his throat and attempted to continue his instruction.

“The hold we were doing moments ago was a cape position.” He guided her to turn next to him. “Cape position is where both dancers facing the same way,” he moved closer to her. “Man on the left, right hand joined to right and left hand joined to left — like a matador with a cape. The man's left hand is behind the lady's back. I was thinking of an altered version, with a twirl.”

There was no malice in his voice, there was no sneering, no posturing.

“So we’re just going to keep dancing?”

He pulled her back into place in front of him.

“What else did you have in mind?” he lowered his voice and leaned into her.

“Ah, so it is you!”

“You’re actually a halfway decent dancer, Granger. If you would just keep that pretty mouth of yours closed, we could get so much more accomplished.”

She began to struggle in his arms, but he refused to let her go.

“Malfoy, can you blame me? You’re smiling, you’re not being your usual snarky self, and you’ve gone an entire week without calling me --- well, you know.”

“Actually it’s been well over a month, if you want to be accurate, and there’s obviously quite a bit about me that you don’t know.”

Instead of the traditional one-two-three step, he pivoted, tightening the connection between them, supporting her with his hold. He spoke to her softly, mouth against her ear.

“Did you know, for example, that much of the Muggle music you listen to is actually sung by magic folk?” He grinned at her surprise. “They like to keep it hush-hush, because it’s not easy to crossover with the Muggle instruments being as rudimentary as they are, but yes, shock of ages!”

Before she could ask him names he continued.

“And it’s not just musical artists, it’s also painters, sculptures, and of course...” he dipped her low and held her there. “...dancers.”

There was no where to go, nothing to say. She was completely taken in by all that was Malfoy. His scent, his beautiful smile, his charm, and his finesse. The last of her barriers had melted away and all she could do was gaze longingly into his liquid silver eyes. They instantly smoldered at her openness.

“It’s your fault, you know,” he stated softly. “Having that innocent face, that mass of long curly hair with all the shiny copper in it.” He leaned in closer and was practically touching her lips with his. “For having those amber eyes that go wide...not to mention those long, “come hither” lashes that surround them.”

He paused and swallowed. He couldn’t help himself.

“Then there’s these kissable lips, that I can’t stop thinking about how they’d taste against mine...yes, it’s completely your fault.”

He kissed her. It wasn’t the fierce attack that he had done when he was disguised as Viktor Krum, it was an appeal. It was a plea. He was asking to be let in. Let in to her mouth, her life and her heart.

She shivered under him, and he could no longer hold himself up. He lowered himself onto his knees, then sat, pulling her into his lap as he deepened the kiss.

He was the first to break it. His eyes were still closed and he nuzzled her ear, squeezing her tightly. “Shame on you... it’s all your fault.”

When she attempted lift her hand from his shoulder, he placed it firmly around his neck.

“Gods, the things you make me do!” He rubbed his hands up and down her back, exploring the feel of her, pressing her against him.

“Ma...Mal...”

He pressed a finger against her pouty lips, and then gently began tracing his thumb over them.

“And what about that tender, young body?” he whispered. “Shall we even go there?”

Draco kissed her again, more intensely this time. And she didn’t fight him. He groaned into her mouth when she reached her hand into his hair and wrapped the other behind him.

It's you..
It's you...
I've been waiting for all of my life.*..


A/N: Where to start? Thank you immensely for all the kind comments! I am so grateful I have this outlet. Sometimes I read my own work and think it’s so lacking, or boring, but because it helps me get through the day at times, I keep writing.

Hopefully the dance portion didn’t bore you to tears! I have always loved dancing, and when I was in High School I took professional ballroom dance lessons. I ended up choreographing the prom court and commencement ball court dances. I tend to get carried away!

I really don’t like song fics. They are so schmaltzy! I deeply regret that I have fallen prey to including lyrics in my chapter! But I just couldn’t help it! Sorry! I’ll try very hard to never do it again!

I love reading well written FanFic stories. I have to share one in particular that some of you probably have already read, but it was new to me since I’m new to the Dr/Hr ship! It was written way back in 2002, and is called, “Draco Malfoy, the Incredible Bouncing...Rat.” This is by far the most humorous FF I’ve ever read! Here is the link: http://www.lasairandmaya.com/DMTABR01.html

Just a few tidbits: In answer to a question in a review, “Throwing a Wobbly” is when one becomes very angry.

*This is the theme from Tootsie, “It Might Be You.” I personally had the wonderful experience of a delicious green eyed Kiwi rugby player spinning me around on a dance floor while he sang this to me. A memory I will forever treasure!