Ficlet: Dance with Me
This was written a while back during the luvlikerocketz gift exchange for elegantsundance.
Title: Dance with Me
Word Count and Rating: 586, PG
Summary: The tango is the very definition of flirtation.
Notes: Also written for my MI Fluff table, prompt #5: Dance
Hermione trudged into the tiny office she shared with Draco Malfoy in the Department of International Magical Co-operation. "It's been decided that the Ministry will be hosting a ball for the Argentinean delegation. The Minister wants it to have real 'Argentinean flavor,'" she held her fingers up and made quotes in the air, "so that the delegates will feel at home."
Draco shut the file drawer and contemplated her disgruntled expression. "And this upsets you because…you hate Argentina?" he guessed.
"No! I'm upset because this task has been turned over to us, and it's all but impossible!"
"What's so impossible about it?" Draco picked up a stack of parchment rolls and tamped them on his desktop. "We feed them red meat and Argentinean wine, splash the colors of their flag around, and otherwise treat them just like us. Now, do you think these treaties should be filed under 'E' for extradition or 'M' for Morocco?"
"'M' but annotate the extradition file so Magical Law Enforcement knows where to look. And what about the dancing," she demanded, staying on track. "The Minister specifically said 'tango.' You've been to Ministry balls. There's not one employee here who can do more than a stilted waltz."
"Au contraire." Draco tossed the rolls back onto his desk and pulled Hermione off the edge and onto her feet. Taking one hand in his and wrapping the other around her waist, he held her close and smiled down at her shocked face.
"I'm going to step forward with my left leg." His breath was warm on her cheek. "You step back with your right."
Hermione nodded and lurched backward when he moved.
"Nope," he said, pulling her back into position. "Don't put your weight on that leg. It will pull you away from me." He stepped forward again, and Hermione tried to keep her center of balance in the middle of their embrace.
"That's better." He held them in position. "Do you see how you're pressed against me, even as you step away? The tango is the very definition of flirtation." His voice was soft, almost lazy, and Hermione felt like the temperature in the office was rising. "Your feet may play hard to get, but your heart stays close to mine, and our lips," his eyes dropped to her mouth, and Hermione stopped breathing, "are almost close enough to kiss."
"Yes," she murmured. Draco smirked and sent Hermione scrambling to save face. "I mean, yes, yes, I do see. I understand."
"Good. Let's try again."
For the next hour, Draco tangoed Hermione around the office, giving her tips-"when you move back, cross your leg far enough behind you that your foot is in line with the center of your body; that's the difference between taking a step back and sexy dancing"-and compliments-"Granger, the way you move your hips could bring a man to his knees"-before lowering her into a deep dip that left her clinging to him.
"See?" His eyes, heavy-lidded, took in her flushed face. "Nothing to it. We'll set up lessons here at the Ministry. I bet there are plenty of women who would love to drag their husbands to ballroom dance lessons." He raised her back up to a standing position but did not let her go.
Hermione was afraid her breathlessness could only partially be blamed on their exertion. "You plan to teach everyone by yourself?"
"We'll train them together. After we have a few private lessons, just you and me. We'll start tonight."
Title: Dance with Me
Word Count and Rating: 586, PG
Summary: The tango is the very definition of flirtation.
Notes: Also written for my MI Fluff table, prompt #5: Dance
Hermione trudged into the tiny office she shared with Draco Malfoy in the Department of International Magical Co-operation. "It's been decided that the Ministry will be hosting a ball for the Argentinean delegation. The Minister wants it to have real 'Argentinean flavor,'" she held her fingers up and made quotes in the air, "so that the delegates will feel at home."
Draco shut the file drawer and contemplated her disgruntled expression. "And this upsets you because…you hate Argentina?" he guessed.
"No! I'm upset because this task has been turned over to us, and it's all but impossible!"
"What's so impossible about it?" Draco picked up a stack of parchment rolls and tamped them on his desktop. "We feed them red meat and Argentinean wine, splash the colors of their flag around, and otherwise treat them just like us. Now, do you think these treaties should be filed under 'E' for extradition or 'M' for Morocco?"
"'M' but annotate the extradition file so Magical Law Enforcement knows where to look. And what about the dancing," she demanded, staying on track. "The Minister specifically said 'tango.' You've been to Ministry balls. There's not one employee here who can do more than a stilted waltz."
"Au contraire." Draco tossed the rolls back onto his desk and pulled Hermione off the edge and onto her feet. Taking one hand in his and wrapping the other around her waist, he held her close and smiled down at her shocked face.
"I'm going to step forward with my left leg." His breath was warm on her cheek. "You step back with your right."
Hermione nodded and lurched backward when he moved.
"Nope," he said, pulling her back into position. "Don't put your weight on that leg. It will pull you away from me." He stepped forward again, and Hermione tried to keep her center of balance in the middle of their embrace.
"That's better." He held them in position. "Do you see how you're pressed against me, even as you step away? The tango is the very definition of flirtation." His voice was soft, almost lazy, and Hermione felt like the temperature in the office was rising. "Your feet may play hard to get, but your heart stays close to mine, and our lips," his eyes dropped to her mouth, and Hermione stopped breathing, "are almost close enough to kiss."
"Yes," she murmured. Draco smirked and sent Hermione scrambling to save face. "I mean, yes, yes, I do see. I understand."
"Good. Let's try again."
For the next hour, Draco tangoed Hermione around the office, giving her tips-"when you move back, cross your leg far enough behind you that your foot is in line with the center of your body; that's the difference between taking a step back and sexy dancing"-and compliments-"Granger, the way you move your hips could bring a man to his knees"-before lowering her into a deep dip that left her clinging to him.
"See?" His eyes, heavy-lidded, took in her flushed face. "Nothing to it. We'll set up lessons here at the Ministry. I bet there are plenty of women who would love to drag their husbands to ballroom dance lessons." He raised her back up to a standing position but did not let her go.
Hermione was afraid her breathlessness could only partially be blamed on their exertion. "You plan to teach everyone by yourself?"
"We'll train them together. After we have a few private lessons, just you and me. We'll start tonight."