Tango * dramione

Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Madam Puddifoot's

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"Trust is like a paper

Once it's crumbled
It can't be perfect again."
~Unknown

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Downstage Right: ENTER Draco and Astoria
Setting: Dance Studio Uno, cont.

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It wasn't easy stepping into Dance Studio Uno that day. Draco felt nauseated and wanted nothing more than to slip back into the green flames of the floo and pretend he hadn't just severed the only connection to a good thing he had during the week. Canceling lessons with Hermione had been difficult, but it was effective; Astoria was pleased as pie, and so was Draco's mother. It showed a 'vast sense of maturity' according to them both, but really, all Draco felt was immature for inwardly pouting at the loss of seeing someone he rather enjoyed.

If he hadn't had been such a dolt last night, he wouldn't be in this position now. Why did he think interrupting Hermione's date would do any good? He was a selfish boy playing with people's fates, just as he always did before the war. Hermione seemed to bring it out of him; that sense of childlike need to have all eyes on him. Ironic, considering when it came to his wedding, he was quite the opposite. There was something about Granger that made him forget himself and where he stood in life.

"Draco?" Astoria asked, leaning into his side as they walked hand in hand down the hall.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts long enough to answer her. "Yes?"

"Are you sure you're prepared for this?"

Draco straightened his shoulders, thinking how very much he was not prepared. "Of course, Tori. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just checking."

They wandered into Dance Studio Uno with five minutes to spare, which really meant they were extremely late. Blaise and Daphne were already there, casually talking to the other couples in the corner of the room. Blaise exchanged a healthy smirk with Draco upon their arrival, nudging over to the far corner, where Hermione, Ginny Weasley, and Greg Diggle were deep in conversation. It was Greg to notice their arrival first, casually sending Draco a lofty nod of the head, which cued Hermione to turn her head and follow his gaze. The moment her eyes met Draco's, he knew he'd stepped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Hermione's eyes rested on him for only a few seconds, but it was enough to burn a hole directly through his conscience. Her eyes pulled away, and she went back to talking to her friends as if he never mattered at all.

His stomach lurched, and he coughed to hold back his vomit.

"Draco?" asked Astoria.

"Fine," he muttered, overcome with something. What the Hell was this blasted emotion, and why did it pick now of all times to surface? Was this shame? Is that why it left such a bad aftertaste in his mouth?

"Seen uomo divertente baffi about?" asked Blaise as he strolled up to the two, his hands in his pockets.

"What does that even mean?" sneered Draco. His eyes kept flickering back to Hermione when he was sure Astoria wasn't looking. Not once did the brunette on the other side of the room acknowledge him after her initial glare. That had to mean only one thing; Greg had shared Draco's betrayal.

"Loosely translated? Funny mustache man. - Daphne and I did some damage control. You shouldn't expect any rumors to be grinding in this classroom."