Perfect Storm

Chapter 14

"Is there any dance you can't do, Mr. Malfoy?" Miranda gushed, as the final notes of the Tango faded.

"Draco, please," Draco insisted, forcing a smile. "And there aren't many I don't know. One of the few positive results of a stuffy, pureblood upbringing."

"It's no wonder you've been able to sweep Hermione off her feet." The dance instructor reached over and slowly ran her hand down Draco's arm. "If you ever find yourself in need of a new dance partner, you know where to find me." With a quick wink, she walked off to talk to Harry and Ginny.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief and went to grab his coat. He was able to slip out of the studio before any else could make a fuss over him.

Before heading back to his flat, Draco took a stroll through the town to clear his head. Hermione hadn't come to the final dance lesson and the instructor had quickly offered to be his partner. She had been more than a little forward in letting him know her interests included more than just dancing.

Miranda wasn't a bad looking woman, but there was something about her that reminded him of his former Transfiguration professor and he couldn't quite get past that. There was also the fact that she assumed Hermione was his girlfriend, yet took every opportunity to openly flirt with him as soon as Hermione wasn't there. He didn't have many deal breakers, but doppelganger professors and wannabe-mistresses were definitely on the list.

This was the one day of the year he wanted to lock himself in his flat and avoid contact with everyone. His mother had extended her usual dinner invite and he had, as usual, declined, which would result in her annual delivery of a letter full of guilt and a bottle of Firewhiskey.

He had thought about skipping the dance class again but didn't want to leave Hermione partnerless for another class. Plus, he didn't want Harry and Ginny thinking he was neglecting his best man duties.

Since Hermione had shared her story, Draco was confused about how worried he was about her. It was quite the secret to have kept and, while he hadn't said it that night, he was also anxious about how Weasley would respond to it. Ron had been at the studio, but appeared subdued and didn't talk much, except to Harry. When Draco had asked Ginny about Hermione, she had given him a sweet, sympathetic smile and assured him that Hermione was fine. He had not appreciated the pedantic tone that was attached to her reply.

It was natural for him to be concerned, right? No reasonable human being could hear a story like that and not feel something. Fuck! When had he become a reasonable human being?

A blur of mocha colored curls hurried past and before Draco could stop himself, he called out, "Hermione!"

Luckily the owner of the curls didn't hear him because it certainly wasn't Hermione dashing into the arms of a bloke with long, raven hair.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Draco muttered, running a hand over his face. He ducked into an alcove and quickly apparated home before he could make more of a public fool of himself.

But when he arrived back at his flat, he was met with the sight of Hermione's shoes and purse. She had left so quickly after their kiss that she had left it all behind. He had been hoping she'd return for it, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to pick up right where they left off.

Son of Salazar, that kiss! He had not been expecting it and he couldn't shake it from his mind or body. He'd had no intentions of ending it and stood dazed in his living room for quite some time after Hermione had left, before retreating to the shower. He had been hoping a wank would help him forget and realign his thoughts. It hadn't.

Draco picked up the purse and sneakers with a sigh. He'd floo to Harry and Ginny's and just leave the stuff with them. They could make sure Hermione was reunited with her things. Maybe if he kept himself free of her for another day, he'd be able to shake her from his system and get back to normal. Or he'd go through withdraw, like some sort of addict, begging for just one more hit...