Dancing With Draco

Chapter One - The Tutor

Draco Malfoy followed Professor Snape along the corridor. He trotted behind the billowing black robes wondering why it never got any easier to trail Snape. No matter how much taller Draco grew, he still had to nearly jog to keep up. Now, in fourth year, Draco was almost as tall as his father, but all the adults close to him seemed to be going even faster than they used to, racing ahead of him, just like Snape, flying headlong into -- something that might be more menacing than a bit of flashy mischief at the Quidditch World Cup.

That night had been something else. It would have been a good time if he hadn't run into Granger in the trees, standing there like a stupid doe, where anyone could spot her. Bloody Potter, couldn't he take care of anything? The whole point was for everyone like her to lighten up and back off and stop taking all the very best of everything. No one had to get hurt over it. Why didn't anyone seem to get that?

Snape spun around so quickly Draco almost kissed him on the lips. "Wait," he said as Draco recoiled, "here. Be agreeable. Do you un-der-stand?"

"Yes, sir."

He leaned against the stone wall as Snape sailed away. More strange requests, more alone time with Snape. Never a good sign.

A tall black hat was moving toward him now, Professor McGonagall. "Mr. Malfoy, thank you for meeting us," she said, though she appeared to have come alone. "We are looking for some help."

He promised nothing, but followed her into an empty classroom. The desks had been pushed aside, clearing the centre of the room.

"As you know," she began, "the Yule Ball is coming. The centrepiece of the evening will be a dance by our Tri-wizarding Tournament champions and their chosen partners."

He nodded. Fine then, whatever this was all about, it couldn't have much to do with him. Maybe they wanted a truce between himself and Potter, at least until the tournament was over. Boring, but doable. He braced himself.

"Our Durmstrang champion," McGonagall went on, "has chosen as his partner an exemplary Hogwarts student from my house who is, unfortunately, completely at a loss when it comes to ballroom dancing. Truly enough, it is a dying art, especially among our male students, and so we find ourselves entreating you, Mr. Malfoy, to aid us as a tutor."

He was both flattered and dismayed. "With respect, professor, is there no one in Gryffindor house who can help?"

He didn't think it was possible for McGonagall to stand any straighter, but she did. "During an international tournament, Hogwarts houses put differences aside and band together for the honour of the school. And furthermore, the young lady tells me that, for personal reasons, she does not wish her housemates to know she is a champion's partner at this time." She turned to speak over her shoulder. "But I am assured she will get a hold of herself and let it be known before long."

McGonagall faced him again. "What do you say, Mr. Malfoy?"

He shifted from foot to foot. "If it's all the same to you, professor -- "

"It is not all the same, as a matter of fact," she said. "Your head of house has not yet disciplined you for a hex cast on the teeth of a Gryffindor student, but the headmaster may still administer discipline beginning with revoking your invitation to the Yule Ball and sending you home. Since the student you hexed required medical attention, the consequences may extend beyond that. It's completely up to Professor Dumbledore. But he has agreed you may make amends by serving as a dance tutor. Of course, the choice is yours."

He sighed. Choice his arse. "Right then. I can help."

She nodded her thanks, turning away from him again, raising her wand and coiling it in a circle, counterclockwise, un-disillusioning the student who had been standing beside her all along.