Little bit of nothing
Title: I Won't Dance
Author: yourebrilliant
Beta:the_willows if she checks her email before I post this. Otherwise no one ;D
Pairing: DMHG
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Very much not mine.
Summary: Malfoy won't dance, Hermione won't listen. Inspired by the song "I Won't Dance" by Frank Sinatra.
Hitching her skirt up so as not to trip on it, Hermione made her way across the dancefloor to stand in front of the long blonde leaning against the far wall. She had decided, since it was her birthday, that she was going to have a dance with all of her ‘boys’, and that included Draco “I Won’t Dance” Malfoy. She had already danced with all of the others, and - although she was never backwards in coming forwards - she had now had just the right amount of alcohol to make her bold enough to confront Malfoy on the topic.
Without moving any part of his body from the shoulders down, Malfoy looked down at her, his eyes sweeping lazily from the bronze heels peeking out from under the hem of her full-skirted bronze organza evening gown up to the delicate lace hovering over her upperarms and tracing the curve of her sweetheart neckline, and higher to her pale - although it was practically tan when compared with his own - face, her subtly lined eyes and sweeping up do with half her curls pinned at her crown and the rest tumbling down her back and over her bare collarbone.
‘Miss Granger,’ he drawled, ‘you’re looking quite,’ he paused and Hermione smiled and prepared to accept his compliment, ‘tipsy, tonight,’ he finished. Hermione frowned.
‘Draco,’ she admonished, ‘that’s not what you’re supposed to say.’
He smirked - well of course, it must have been at least five minutes since the last time - down at her. ‘Clearly you’ve forgotten my vow.’
Hermione rolled her eyes. How could she forget? After he had seen the light and defected to the Order of the Phoenix, Draco had vowed that he would never do anything because he was “supposed to” again. ‘You know, not everything “expected” is bad,’ she grumbled. ‘Some of it just stops you from being an arse.’
He laughed outright at that.
‘Come and dance with me,’ Hermione instructed, when he had quietened again.
‘No,’ he said baldly.
‘Why?’ she demanded, for at least the fiftieth time, her hands automatically resting on her hips, delicate fingers splayed along the curve of her slender waist.
‘I won’t dance,’ he declared. He was always very careful with his words. It wasn’t that he couldn’t dance, his mother had insisted that he should be practiced in that particular art, he just wouldn’t.
‘But I’ve found the perfect song for you,’ she said, gesturing to the band she had hired.
As the first strains of the famous swing tune drifted over to them, he smiled at quite how perfect her choice was.
I won’t dance, don’t ask me,
I won’t dance, don’t ask me,
I won’t dance, madame with you,
‘Hermione,’ he said calmly, ‘have you listed to the words of this song?’
‘Well,’ she tilted her head, ‘no, but the title seemed right. Why?’
‘No reason,’ he said, finally allowing himself to be towed onto the wide dance floor.
You know what? You’re lovely,
You know what? You’re so lovely,
And oh, what you do to me
As they reached the centre, Malfoy surprised everyone, including Hermione who - despite his assurances - had begun to suspect that he actually couldn’t dance, by immediately swirling her into a twirl.
When you dance, you’re charming and you’re gentle,
‘Specially when you do the Continental
Hermione couldn’t believe it, Draco was actually dancing, and he was good. She shouldn’t have expected anything less from a Malfoy. Now this was the dance she’d been hoping for. She loved Harry and Ron but they weren’t the world’s most accomplished dancers - she’d had to sit down for fifteen minutes after her dance with Ron. But this; without apparent effort, Malfoy spun, twirled, and twisted her, his movements smooth and practised, never a dropped hand or a missed step. As he brought her in for a dip that left her breathless, she realised he was quietly singing along with the song.
I am not asbestos,
That’s why, I won’t dance, why should I?
I won’t dance, how could I?
I won’t dance, merci beaucoup
He swept her upright again, pulling her into a waltz, their bodies so close together that she could feel his breath against her hair as he sang.
I know that music leads the way to romance
So if I hold you in my arms, I won’t dance
Oh! Hermione thought, realising the implications of those final words. Before she could say anything, Malfoy was dipping her again, only this time he was leaning with her. When she was tilted so far backward that she was clutching his shoulder for balance, he leaned in close and kissed her. For just a second, her eyes widened, before they fluttered closed as she gave herself up to a kiss as smooth and perfect as his dance.
I won’t dance, don’t ask me,
I won’t dance, don’t ask me,
I won’t dance, madame with you,
My heart won’t let my feet do things that they want to do,
Before things could get out of hand, Malfoy swept them back up and broke the kiss, one arm still around her waist to support her as she staggered from the sudden loss of blood to her head.
You know what, you’re lovely
Ring-a-ding-ding, you’re lovely
And, oh, what you do to me
For a full second, she stood there, her hands still holding his shoulders, her face still tipped up for a kiss, watching his adam’s apple bob up and down with each deep breath.
‘You know what,’ he said, unconsciously mimicking the song, ‘I think you’re right.’
‘Yes?’ she asked, becoming aware of their proximity but loath to step away.
‘I should dance more. With you,’ he added. Hermione smiled. ‘But first,’ he continued, ‘I think I need a little practice. It’s been a while since I danced with anyone.’ He winked at her. ‘Want to come back to the manor and help me?’
His eyes flickered to her lips again and, even in her slightly inebriated state, she understood his meaning. She licked her lips absent-mindedly and saw his eyes flash with desire. ‘Well,’ she started to say, ‘I really shouldn’t leave my party.’
‘Oh, Hermione,’ he admonished her softly, ‘you know what I think of “shouldn’t”.’ He winked down at her and she felt her steadying heart rate begin to race again.
‘Let’s go,’ she breathed.
Malfoy smirked.
I won’t dance, I won’t dance
I won’t dance, merci beaucoup
I know that music leads the way to romance
So if I hold you in my arms, I won’t dance!
Author: yourebrilliant
Beta:the_willows if she checks her email before I post this. Otherwise no one ;D
Pairing: DMHG
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Very much not mine.
Summary: Malfoy won't dance, Hermione won't listen. Inspired by the song "I Won't Dance" by Frank Sinatra.
Hitching her skirt up so as not to trip on it, Hermione made her way across the dancefloor to stand in front of the long blonde leaning against the far wall. She had decided, since it was her birthday, that she was going to have a dance with all of her ‘boys’, and that included Draco “I Won’t Dance” Malfoy. She had already danced with all of the others, and - although she was never backwards in coming forwards - she had now had just the right amount of alcohol to make her bold enough to confront Malfoy on the topic.
Without moving any part of his body from the shoulders down, Malfoy looked down at her, his eyes sweeping lazily from the bronze heels peeking out from under the hem of her full-skirted bronze organza evening gown up to the delicate lace hovering over her upperarms and tracing the curve of her sweetheart neckline, and higher to her pale - although it was practically tan when compared with his own - face, her subtly lined eyes and sweeping up do with half her curls pinned at her crown and the rest tumbling down her back and over her bare collarbone.
‘Miss Granger,’ he drawled, ‘you’re looking quite,’ he paused and Hermione smiled and prepared to accept his compliment, ‘tipsy, tonight,’ he finished. Hermione frowned.
‘Draco,’ she admonished, ‘that’s not what you’re supposed to say.’
He smirked - well of course, it must have been at least five minutes since the last time - down at her. ‘Clearly you’ve forgotten my vow.’
Hermione rolled her eyes. How could she forget? After he had seen the light and defected to the Order of the Phoenix, Draco had vowed that he would never do anything because he was “supposed to” again. ‘You know, not everything “expected” is bad,’ she grumbled. ‘Some of it just stops you from being an arse.’
He laughed outright at that.
‘Come and dance with me,’ Hermione instructed, when he had quietened again.
‘No,’ he said baldly.
‘Why?’ she demanded, for at least the fiftieth time, her hands automatically resting on her hips, delicate fingers splayed along the curve of her slender waist.
‘I won’t dance,’ he declared. He was always very careful with his words. It wasn’t that he couldn’t dance, his mother had insisted that he should be practiced in that particular art, he just wouldn’t.
‘But I’ve found the perfect song for you,’ she said, gesturing to the band she had hired.
As the first strains of the famous swing tune drifted over to them, he smiled at quite how perfect her choice was.
I won’t dance, don’t ask me,
I won’t dance, don’t ask me,
I won’t dance, madame with you,
‘Hermione,’ he said calmly, ‘have you listed to the words of this song?’
‘Well,’ she tilted her head, ‘no, but the title seemed right. Why?’
‘No reason,’ he said, finally allowing himself to be towed onto the wide dance floor.
You know what? You’re lovely,
You know what? You’re so lovely,
And oh, what you do to me
As they reached the centre, Malfoy surprised everyone, including Hermione who - despite his assurances - had begun to suspect that he actually couldn’t dance, by immediately swirling her into a twirl.
When you dance, you’re charming and you’re gentle,
‘Specially when you do the Continental
Hermione couldn’t believe it, Draco was actually dancing, and he was good. She shouldn’t have expected anything less from a Malfoy. Now this was the dance she’d been hoping for. She loved Harry and Ron but they weren’t the world’s most accomplished dancers - she’d had to sit down for fifteen minutes after her dance with Ron. But this; without apparent effort, Malfoy spun, twirled, and twisted her, his movements smooth and practised, never a dropped hand or a missed step. As he brought her in for a dip that left her breathless, she realised he was quietly singing along with the song.
I am not asbestos,
That’s why, I won’t dance, why should I?
I won’t dance, how could I?
I won’t dance, merci beaucoup
He swept her upright again, pulling her into a waltz, their bodies so close together that she could feel his breath against her hair as he sang.
I know that music leads the way to romance
So if I hold you in my arms, I won’t dance
Oh! Hermione thought, realising the implications of those final words. Before she could say anything, Malfoy was dipping her again, only this time he was leaning with her. When she was tilted so far backward that she was clutching his shoulder for balance, he leaned in close and kissed her. For just a second, her eyes widened, before they fluttered closed as she gave herself up to a kiss as smooth and perfect as his dance.
I won’t dance, don’t ask me,
I won’t dance, don’t ask me,
I won’t dance, madame with you,
My heart won’t let my feet do things that they want to do,
Before things could get out of hand, Malfoy swept them back up and broke the kiss, one arm still around her waist to support her as she staggered from the sudden loss of blood to her head.
You know what, you’re lovely
Ring-a-ding-ding, you’re lovely
And, oh, what you do to me
For a full second, she stood there, her hands still holding his shoulders, her face still tipped up for a kiss, watching his adam’s apple bob up and down with each deep breath.
‘You know what,’ he said, unconsciously mimicking the song, ‘I think you’re right.’
‘Yes?’ she asked, becoming aware of their proximity but loath to step away.
‘I should dance more. With you,’ he added. Hermione smiled. ‘But first,’ he continued, ‘I think I need a little practice. It’s been a while since I danced with anyone.’ He winked at her. ‘Want to come back to the manor and help me?’
His eyes flickered to her lips again and, even in her slightly inebriated state, she understood his meaning. She licked her lips absent-mindedly and saw his eyes flash with desire. ‘Well,’ she started to say, ‘I really shouldn’t leave my party.’
‘Oh, Hermione,’ he admonished her softly, ‘you know what I think of “shouldn’t”.’ He winked down at her and she felt her steadying heart rate begin to race again.
‘Let’s go,’ she breathed.
Malfoy smirked.
I won’t dance, I won’t dance
I won’t dance, merci beaucoup
I know that music leads the way to romance
So if I hold you in my arms, I won’t dance!