The Tango is for Two

a/n: this fic was loosely inspired by Objection (Tango) by Shakira. i didnt want a song fic - they arent one of my strong points, but if you want a good h/hr-esque song, this is a definite must-hear. i think it sums up how hermione feels fairly well.

but, i had to add a few twists to truly make this fic my own. watch out.

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley stood in front of the bulletin board in the Grand Hall, staring at the poster, dumbfounded.

"What kind of weirdos are going to enter a dance contest?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Poor weirdos, Weasel." Draco Malfoy drawled, leaning up against the wall and pointing a finger at the finer print.

"I'm a poor weirdo..." Ron suddenly murmered, in a daze. His friends could practically see the money fantasies drifting in his eyes.

Malfoy laughed. "That's for sure."

"Oh, shut your mouth, Malfoy. Just because you think you're better than the rest of us doesn't make it so." Hermione snapped.

Malfoy raised his distinguished eyebrows into a dubious look. "Actually, Mudblood, you're right."

It was Harry and Hermione and Ron's turn to raise their eyebrows.

"My thinking it doesn't make it so. It being true makes it so. I'd have thought you'd know that, Granger. Always the smart one."

Hermione wasn't sure how to take the comment, and didn't think about it as Malfoy sauntered off, leaving the trio in a silence.

"He isn't better than anybody," Harry said, giving Hermione a reassuring look. "His head is so big I often wonder how he gets it through the doors."

Ron nodded fervently. "Besides, why does he care about the contest, he doesn't need any more money. Slimy moneybags father of his."

Hermione looked at him acidly. "Anything Malfoy can do to show the school he's better than them, he'll do, and that includes dancing, in this case."

"Then we've got to beat him, that's all there is to it." Harry said, decidedly.

"That'll be hard..." A voice behind them said, smoothly.

They turned around to see Cho Chang standing behind them, dressed in maroon velvet robes.

Harry's cheeks went pink and he smiled shyly at her.

"What do you mean by that?" Hermione snapped, her eyes narrow.

"Well, I've danced with him before... and he is an excellent dancer. A very excellent dancer..." Cho said, trailing off, looking at Harry carefully. She bit her lip and stared at him flirtily.

Ron glared at her. "What have you been doing dancing about with Malfoy?"

Cho broke eye contact with a flustered Harry and giggled. "Oh, Draco has his ways, the little charmer. He really is very talented... in many areas."

She gave another soft laugh, and then swayed away, Harry staring at her back.

"Slut." Ron and Hermione simultaneously hissed.

"So how are we going to beat him?" Ron asked. They were in the common room, settled on the floor in front of the fireplace.

"We'll study a dance very, very, very hard, and put on an excellent show." Hermione said, looking through all the books on dancing she'd checked out of the library.

"Who are we?" Ron asked. "If you're forgetting, I don't think there's a 3 person dance, Hermione."

She glared at him, and Harry chuckled, looking up from the book on tango he was reading.

"Then we'll just try it out right now. Each of us boys tries out a simple step or two and Hermione decides which one would be easier to teach, or who's more talented." Harry said.

"Or both." Hermione said, her eyes on a map of steps.

"Right... or both."

Harry and Ron stood up, eying her awkwardly.

Hermione rose as well, looking at a chart of the waltz.

"All right, the basic waltz is very simple, I'll demonstrate."

"One, two, step." Hermione moved her right leg to the right on one, brought the left leg to it on two, and stomped her foot down on step.

She looked up at the boys. They aren't really boys anymore, are they? She thought, absentmindedly; and she was right. It was their 6th year at Hogwarts and Harry and Ron had grown taller, their shoulders had broadened and their voices had deepened drastically. But to her they were still the same, and none could ever mistake them as anyone else but themselves.

Hermione herself had changed slightly, but as is the case, she couldn't tell. Harry and Ron had noticed it a while back, in 5th year, when she'd shown up at Platform 9 3/4 with a more noticeable chest and curvier hips and legs.

She looked up at the young men, who looked confused.

"What's the matter, isn't it simple enough?" She asked, raising one eyebrow.

"No, it's simple enough, all right," Ron assured, staring at her feet. "But is that all you do in a waltz? Stand there and stamp your feet?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, sighing exasperatedly.

"Oh, you're terrible. The man leads the woman, and they do those steps around the dance floor. It's a very simple, elegant dance."

Ron still looked rather confused. "How are you supposed to do those steps around a dancefloor?" He asked, and Harry chuckled.

"You're kidding me, right?" He asked, looking at Ron, amused.

"No, I don't get it."

"Let me show you. Hermione, may I have this dance?" Harry asked, extending her his hand.

She blushed a pretty rose color and took it. "You certainly may."

"Wait a minute, stop, stop." Ron interrupted.

Hermione and Harry turned to look at him, Hermione irritated.

"Why'd he have to ask you? You knew he was going to demonstrate." Ron asked, furrowing his brow.

Hermione huffed. "It's just tradition is all, you ask a lady her permission to dance. It's only polite, honestly."

Harry laughed softly, and wrapped his arm around her waist, raising their clasped hands. Hermione placed her other hand on his shoulder, and they waltzed around the common room, past the window, past the stairs to the dorms, and back around the couch again.

Ron snorted. "That's easy. Why didn't you just say so in the first place?"

Hermione let go of Harry slowly. "I did." She said, quietly, looking at Harry, breathless.

Harry smiled. "It actually takes quite a bit of concentration, really." He said, looking over at Ron.

She kept her eyes on Harry. "Well, Harry, you did extraordinarily well. I don't remember you dancing this well at the Yule Ball... I don't even remember you dancing that much in general."

He blushed, turning back to her at this comment. "I didn't. I had no idea what I was doing back then, and I have just about as much of an idea now, to be frank."

She smiled gently at him.

"Lemme have a go at it." Ron said, stepping forward.

Hermione reluctantly turned away from Harry and looked at Ron dubiously, eyebrows raised.

He grabbed her about the waist and took her hand roughly.

"Ron... you forgot to ask permission." She said.

"Right, right, let's just skip that part. Let's see, now.." He pulled her around the room, his steps out of order, occaisionally smashing her toes. By the time they came back around the sofa, Hermione had cursed more times than Harry had heard her curse collectively 5 years.

His eyebrows were set high on his forehead, when Ron released her.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione, I thought it was supposed to be easy!" He exclaimed.

Hermione nursed her bruised feet, rubbing her toes carefully. "I did," She snapped. "But it takes some effort, you oaf."

Ron glared at her. "I take offense to that comment."

"You very well should." She hissed.

Harry laughed lightly, and picked up the tango book again, flopping onto the couch with it. He settled beside Hermione, and read intently.

Ron watched the two. "So who's entering, then?"

"You have to ask?" She snapped, her eyes blazing.

"Is it me?" Ron ask, incredulously.

"You're such a dillard*! No! It's Harry! Harry and I will enter the competition."

Harry looked up from the book. "What's a dillard?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's a long story," She said. "I'll tell you some other time. Meanwhile, what dance are we performing?"

"Maybe it should be the cha-cha... whatever the bloody hell that is." Ron suggested, thinking back to the poster in the Great Hall.

"No, no, I like swing." Hermione said, eying a picture of a wizard flipping a witch over his back. The witch giggled and fell into the wizard's arms. "It looks fun, doesn't it?"

Harry cleared his throat. "How about tango?"

Ron and Hermione looked at him oddly. "Tango?" Ron asked, confused. "Tango?" Hermione asked, at the same time, but more embarrassed than confused.

Harry shrugged. "Why not?" He said, and showed them the book he was reading. A moving picture of a wizard and witch dancing beautifully caught Hermione's eye, and she watched them with interest. Ron read the instructions. "It looks complicated." He commented.

Hermione shoved Ron out of the way and took the book away, and stared at it. "So what... it's perfect." She whispered, as the wizard in the picture dipped the witch. A slow brush spread across her cheeks.

She snapped the book shut and stood up.

"Right then. I'll study tonight and work out a lesson plan. Harry, what's a good time for practice?"

He shrugged. "Tuesday and Thursday night? Like in the Charm's class?"

Hermione nodded crisply. "Right. See you then." She ran up to the girls dorms.

Ron turned to Harry. "Won't she just see you tomorrow for breakfast and classes?"

Harry shrugged lamely.

The alarm clock rang and Harry grunted, slammed the snooze button and burrowed back under his pillow. Someone in his dormitory rolled out of bed and hit the floor, most likely Neville.

Harry sat up in bed slowly, thinking about the dream he'd just had. It was really strange, he and Cho were dancing the tango, in a dark room. The only light had been a spotlight, on the two of them. All of a sudden, the light turned a rose color, and he felt a strong urge to kiss her. So he did. And then she had materialized in his arms, fading away into the shadows. He'd fallen on his knees, and a lady in a blue dress walked by. He had watched her, and she kneeled to help him up.

It had been Hermione. The room got very bright, all of a sudden, and he'd leaned towards her, almost being able to feel her warm breath on his lips, and then he had woken up.

He raised his eyebrows. That was weird, Harry thought, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. Pushing the curtain back, he noticed Seamus on the floor instead of Neville.

Harry pulled himself off the bed and walked over to his friend's sleeping form. He pushed him with his foot. "Oi, you're on the floor, Seamus."

Seamus awoke with a snort and a spasmic movement.

"Huzzawha?"

Harry smirked at him and headed for the bathroom, when he heard a female voice.

"Seamus, honey, why are you on the floor like that?"

Harry turned around abruptly.

Cho Chang was in Seamus Finnegan's bed!

"Holy shit!" Harry exclaimed, staring at them in horror.

Seamus hopped up, and darted under the bed, emerging a moment later with ladies' garments. He threw them at Cho and closed the curtains.

He turned to face Harry with a constipated look on his face.

"So."

Harry turned on his heel and slammed the door to the bathroom behind him.

"Well you can't blame Seamus." Ron said, chomping on some toast.

Harry stared at his friend angrily. "I sure as hell can, damn it!!" He slammed his goblet of pumpkin juice down on the table. The juice overflowed onto his hand, and he grimaced.

Hermione sat down next to him, rolling her eyes.

"Harry, it doesn't matter. She wasn't your girlfriend, she was single, and so was Seamus. What they did was perfectly fine. Against school regulation, but morally exceptable." She said.

Harry turned to face her, eyes ablaze. "There are certain unspoken rules between guy friends and one of those I thought was not sleeping with the chick your friend likes!!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "No such rule, Harry."

"Why not?" Harry shouted, gaining some attention from the Hufflepuff table.

Ron shrugged lamely. "You've got to admit, Harry, you weren't making any moves."

"So?! That makes her open for business?!" Harry shouted, furrowing his brow.

Hermione put a hand on his arm. "Settle down. You're attracting too much attention, making a big deal out of this for no reason."

Her hand and words soothed him slightly, and he put his head in his hands and heaved a sigh.

"It's not fair." He whimpered.

Ron rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast, but Hermione looked at Harry sadly, a longing look in her eyes.

"I know how you feel."

Walking past, Draco Malfoy raised his eyebrows.

Ginny Weasley stared up at the dance contest poster, her eyes gleaming, as she dreamt of whirling around a ballroom in some handsome wizard's arms.

She let out a dreamy sigh.

"Hello, little one." A silky voice said, behind her. Ginny turned her head to see Cho looking at her warmly.

"Is something wrong?" She asked.

"No, nothing's wrong..." Ginny said. "But nothing's right either." She turned and looked complacently at the older girl.

"Oh, it's one of those days, I see." Cho said, smiling lightly, letting the world see her perfect pearly white teeth.

Ginny grimaced in jealousy as Cho flashed her smile, but choked it down, and replied angrily. "Everyday is one of those days for me."

The Ravenclaw raised her eyebrows.

Ginny stormed off, brushing angrily past a boy.

She stopped halfway down the hall and turned back to see Draco Malfoy watching her, holding her wallet, which he'd sneakily slipped out of her bag.

"Malfoy." She growled.

"Weasley." He replied cooly. They watched each other warily for a moment, trying to anticipate the others move, until Malfoy threw the wallet at her feet.

"Better keep that somewhere safer, where it can't just be pickpocketed." He advised, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

"Jack off, you slimy ferret." She hissed, grabbing up her belonging and stuffing it back into her bag.

Draco watched as she ran off, towards Gryffindor tower.

He turned on his heel, to find Cho looking at him seductively.

"Hello, Draco." She said, smoothly. Her hand was on her hip, bunching the fabric lightly, giving her robes a tighter appearance. Draco frowned.

"Looking for fresh meat, are you?" He said, icily.

She gave him a glare, releasing her purple robes and crossing her arms. "You're not all that fresh yourself, Draco."

He gave a little laugh. "Touche, Chang. But honestly," He said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't want to sleep with you. I might catch a disease, for Christ's sake."

She gasped. "You son of a bitch."

He shrugged, as if to say he couldn't help it.

Cho growled and stomped off.

Nevermind her, he thought to himself. I have a Weasley to find.

He found her in the library, stewing in an armchair near a window.

"Hello, Weasley."

Her head snapped up, her red curls bouncing from the abrupt motion.

"What do you want?" She asked, curtly.

He settled in a chair across from her. "What would you like?" He countered.

Ginny's eyebrows rose in curiosity.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean what would you like? Anything at all, in exchange for your help." He said, clasping his hand together.

She stared at him for a moment. "Are you serious? Anything at all?"

Draco nodded, his silver eyes gleaming.

Ginny noticed the look in his eyes and she frowned. "What kind of help?"

"I've stumbled across something. Something I think everyone knows in the back of their minds, but won't admit to, but they know for sure. Something that I think has been set since the beginning of time, but will take hell to push into action."

"You're being awfully cryptic, Malfoy." She said. "Get straight to the point."

"Hermione is in love with Harry." He blurted out.

Ginny watched him warily.

"And I think he loves her as well, just has his head stuck in his ass and can't see it." He said, quietly.

Her eyes wavered slightly, and misted over.

Immediately she looked away, as tears threatened to escape her eyes.

"I know you used to like him, Ginny, but this is destiny, I know it." He continued, and went to her side. He placed his hand on her knee and looked up at her with the most sincere eyes she had ever seen in her life.

Her cheeks flushed, and she nodded slowly. "You're right." She said, "I think I've known it from the beginning as well. We all have, haven't we?"

He nodded, smiling.

She stood up, moving away from him, to the window, where the wintery sky greeted her with a dull glow. "But why are you trying to help them?"

Draco stood up and sighed.

"I mean," She said, turning back to him. "You're Draco Malfoy. You're not supposed to help Harry Potter fall in love with his destined soulmate. You're... well, I don't know."

"A cold bastard?" Draco suggested.

"Well... I don't know. Nobody really knows you, do they?"

He looked at the floor. "I suppose. But I have my reasons. Besides... my ways of doing it won't be all sugar and peaches."

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"What do you have in mind?"

Draco smiled mischeviously.

"I'll explain some other time. Right now however, I need your full agreement to cooperate. So, name what you want." He said, coming up closer to her.

She looked down bashfully. "Um..."

She thought hard about it. What was it she had been longing for just a moment ago? A dance partner for the competition, she said to herself. But how could Draco provide that?

"I can do anything for you." He whispered, as if reading her mind.

"A dance partner." She said abruptly, swiveling around to suddenly find herself very close to him.

He smiled gently. "For the competition?" He whispered, his warm breath playing upon her face.

She nodded, staring in his eyes. They were complex, unreadable pools of grey. Warm glowing grey at times and then at another moment piercing silver. She was lost in them.

"Done." He announced, and caught her lips on his briefly, before turning briskly and gliding out of the room.

Ginny sighed and slid to the floor, her eyebrows high, eyes wide, and hands clasped.

to be continued