A/N:

Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 8

Round: Third Round

Team: Kenmare Kestrels

Position: Beater 2

Task: Burn—write about someone cutting someone else out of their life

Prompts: 5. (action): dancing 9. (action) arguing 12. (plot point) a wedding

Word Count: 2304

"Absolutely not," Hermione crossed her arms and looked away.

"Please, just be reasonable," Harry sighed. "It's only for one night and you'll barely have to talk to him."

"I cannot believe you're even asking me this," she pursed her lips together and Ron stood up from the couch and put a hand on her shoulder. She frowned at him and collapsed into the chair on the side of her living room. To think she'd just decorated, but Harry and Ron hadn't even remarked on the new furniture in her flat since arriving, they'd been so busy with the details.

"Hermione, we have to be flexible," Ron said, "this is Harry's wedding and we're his best mates."

"Easy for you to say," she shot back, "you're dating Daphne! You'll want to dance with her at the wedding!"

She threw her hands up in the air, and the two men looked back at her. Harry pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and tried not to look disappointed. She sighed.

The truth was, she'd just broken up with Cormac McLaggen two weeks ago, and it hadn't gone well. It had been two years of trouble, with a fiery and bitter ending, and while she just wanted to move on, she didn't like the idea of being forced to dance with someone else. Originally she was supposed to dance with him as a couple, and Malfoy was going to dance with Astoria. She didn't really know why that had changed, but it felt too early and raw for her to think about being someone else's dance partner.

"Ugh Merlin, I suppose it's an odd day indeed when Ronald is the voice of reason, isn't it? I'm sorry Harry, I really am. I'm very excited for your wedding, and I don't want to cause trouble. Even…" Hermione hung her head in defeat, "if it means dancing with Draco Malfoy."

Ron nodded, and Harry's expression softened to a smile. "Thank you, Hermione. It means a lot to me."

She smiled. "You know I wouldn't miss it for the world. But tell me how I got paired up with him again?"

"Well, I've asked you, Ron, and Luna. Theo chose Malfoy, Zabini, and Daphne Greengrass. We're both chummy with Neville so he's there for both of us. Obviously, Ron and Daphne would dance together in the second dance and walk down the aisle together for the procession. Luna and Blaise have a good rapport, so they requested to go together too. So that just leaves…"

"You and Malfoy," Ron supplied. "Really, we didn't expect you to be so against it."

"Against it?!" She snorted. "I'm very bloody well against it! I like Theo now, of course, Harry, but it was strange enough when you two started dating. And then Ron and Daphne, and now the Malfoy? What is the world coming to!"

"No one is trying to pair you two off!" Harry laughed. "It's just a silly dance. And besides, you've barely seen him since the war because you don't come out with us often. He's changed, especially after he cut Astoria out of his life."

She tried not to look too surprised—but that cleared up some of the confusion. He was also fresh out of a breakup. How fortuitous, she thought darkly, that the balance of the dance wouldn't be ruined by only one of them missing a partner. She suspected that was the real reason they'd been paired up.

"I can hardly believe it's only been five years and you're already advocating for him," she rolled her eyes. "And I've been busy—someone has to work on fixing the Ministry!"

"And we're all so very happy you do that, but you could stand to have a little more fun," Ron shook his head.

She raised her eyebrow at him, "I do have fun. With your sister. On her weekend benders."

Ron plugged his ears as Harry chuckled. "I don't want to know!"

A few months later, and Hermione found herself begrudgingly sitting next to Draco Malfoy at the rehearsal dinner. She hadn't been able to avoid him much during the preparations because Harry and Theo had planned the most extravagant and matched wedding she'd ever seen. They had chosen to get married on a hill in the Scottish Highlands, and a few modest tents held the lavish reception afterwards, complete with an expanding charm to make the tents larger inside. There were silver and gold ribbons, flowers, and centerpieces everywhere she looked. The groom's parties were dressed in corresponding colors—Hermione in gold for Harry, Malfoy in silver for Theo. And for the second dance of the night, she'd been working tirelessly with the rest of her friends, learning the choreography they'd decided on.

The grooms and their parties would couple up, and dance to a modern pop song that Harry and Theo loved. This number would be directly after their first dance, which was also a choreographed dance to a sentimental song they cherished. Hermione though the idea was sweet—perfect even—because Harry and Theo were both so detail oriented. Except for the fact that her partner was Draco Malfoy, and that meant she'd be glued to him the entire evening.

But the past few months hadn't been completely disagreeable, what with the dance classes to look forward to. They were a pleasant break from fending off letters from Cormac, who hadn't gotten the picture that he was the reason they'd broken up. She needed to move on, grow without him, and find someone who made her feel fiery and passionate, not dull and simple.

She rested her chin on her hand and glanced lazily around the room, watching all the people make noted about the things that had to be fixed for the big day tomorrow.

"Look alive, Granger," Malfoy drawled from his seat next to her.

She pursed her lips into a frown and glanced at him. "You're hardly the spitting image of fervor yourself."

He straightened and glanced around, "I thought you'd be excited for all the wedding preparations, being a woman and all."

She rolled her eyes and pretended to check a watch on her wrist. "A bit early for blatant misogyny, don't you think?"

He scowled at her, "I meant nothing by it, other than Astoria used to talk about it constantly."

"Well, Astoria and I are pretty different," she felt a tinge of regret for misunderstanding—his comment had been stupid, but of course he'd think that after having dated Astoria Greengrass for three years. It had clearly taken its toll on him, she'd seen the papers detailing their nasty breakup. The alleged culprit: he hadn't been ready to settle down, and she wouldn't stop badgering him about marriage.

Hermione sighed, listening to the directions being instructed over a loudspeaker. "They're starting the dances soon."

"Try not to step on my toes during your favorite part," he drawled, bored.

"I don't have a favorite part," she corrected, "and it is most certainly not my fault that your toes get in the way during the third crescendo of the song."

"There you go, victim blaming," he said, with mock pain. "I won't have it, Granger. It's simply too cruel."

She bit back a wicked smile and pulled him towards the dance floor. "Try not to be horrible, Malfoy. Theo and Harry are counting on your rhythm."

He led her by the hand to the center left of the stage, surrounded by the other couples. She tried not to notice how his hands were much larger than she remembered them being in school, with a rough texture she imagined would feel amazing touching smooth skin.

The dance began and they moved to the right, him twirling her once and waltzing behind her. She remembered the steps—look to the left, then back at him, look to the left once more—but her foot landed strangely as she sidestepped to walk behind him. He made a tsking noise and shook his head.

"Five points from Gryffindor," he whispered at her as she rounded him, and he placed his hands on her hips to lift her quickly. She rolled her eyes.

"If you're the only one that notices, it doesn't count," she hissed back.

They sashayed in tandem behind Ron and Daphne, and Hermione couldn't help mentally gag at how proud Ron looked with every properly executed move. Malfoy must've noticed too because he snorted.

"Has Weasley always liked dancing this much?"

"As far as I know, the first time he ever danced was with McGonagall in preparation for the Yule ball," she snickered back, and raised her eyebrow at the way Malfoy lost his step. He recovered quickly, but not before she smiled smugly back at him.

"Not so light on our feet, are we, Malfoy?"

"Better than you," he snapped back, holding her by the wrist as they spun apart and then back together.

When they hit the third crescendo of the song, he sidestepped just as her shoe landed right where his toes had been. He narrowed his eyes at her as she smothered a giggle as they moved through the final steps of the dance. When the lights fell and the music ended, she stood with her back pressed against him, trying not to breath heavily from fatigue. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest and could tell he was similarly out of breath.

When the lights turned on again, the group bowed and left the dance floor, back to their seats. Hermione crumpled down and took a large gulp of her wine, before whipping her head around to see Draco chuckling.

"That dance wasn't too much for you, was it? I suppose it's to be expected from someone who spends all day reading."

"At least one of us is literate," she shot back. "And that dance is so physical, everyone is exhausted—even you."

She pointed to the glass of water in his hand and he smirked. As he opened his mouth to retort, they were interrupted by Ginny and Neville approaching their table and waving hello. Hermione grinned and hugged them both, as Malfoy nodded a greeting.

"You two looked splendid up there," Neville said cheerfully. "Makes me wish I was up there with you guys."

"You're welcome to take my place any day," Hermione smiled, and jerked a thumb towards Malfoy, "but you'd have to be his dance partner."

Malfoy scowled at her, "I'll spare you the nightmare of dancing with this bushy-haired she-devil, Longbottom, and not even offer."

Neville laughed uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. "You two sure do argue a lot…"

Ginny waved a hand affectionately and smiled. "Arguing is practically foreplay for Hermione, with the way she loves to debate. I wouldn't worry about it."

They walked away, and Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh?"

She brushed him off, "Please, don't even. We both know it isn't going to happen."

He touched his chin arrogantly. "I don't know, Granger. You have been arguing with me since we first started practicing for this little dance. Pleased with my post-war maturity?"

"You wish. You're still too snobbish for me."

"And you're still too righteous for me, but that's beside the point."

"Sod off, Malfoy. Or get me some more wine if you want to be charming."

"Oh, I can be charming," he smirked. "But for you? I think you rather like it when I'm contrary."

She met his eyes, and they both fell silent, not sure how serious the other one was. She gave him a slow blink, and then shrugged. Perhaps Harry and Ron had been right, all those months before, when they'd told her he'd changed. Perhaps she didn't need him to be changed—she rather liked arguing with him like this. And it didn't need to be anything meaningful or important, she was a fully grown woman with a healthy appetite, and with the wine flowing and decorations sparkling, she supposed there didn't need to be any other reason.

Hermione smiled at him wickedly, a dare in her eyes. Slipping out her room key, she handed it to him with flourish, and stood up.

"Let's see if you're all talk, then, Malfoy."

Sauntering away, she smirked to herself and was pleased she'd attended all the dance lessons the past few months, because she knew exactly how good she looked walking away.

The next day, Harry and Theo were married in the most whimsical wedding of the decade, The Daily Prophet reported. The second dance went off without hitch, and Hermione reveled in the applause of the crowd, delighted at their hard work. She watched the way Theo and Harry thanked them, clearly overjoyed and pleased with how perfect the whole affair went.

It turned out that cutting Cormac McLaggen out of her life was the best thing she could have done a few months ago, because it had freed her up to enjoy the wedding, and dance with Malfoy. If they both hadn't ended their relationships when they did, they certainly would have missed an opportunity, if the night before had been any indication.

As she grabbed one more glass of champagne for the night, she smiled secretly as she overheard Ginny remark to Neville.

"The only thing I can't understand is why Hermione and Malfoy have been so quiet today—makes me wonder if they made peace last night. Then again, I suppose they have been bickering a bit today too…"

Neville shook his head. "Whatever knocks their socks off."

Indeed, she tossed back her glass and glanced over to see Malfoy eyeing her from across the dance floor. She beckoned, he strode out, and they danced exactly the way they argued—passionately, lively, and with a lot of cheek.