Author's Note: Okay, so this one was really fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry Potter, but sadly, I don't.

Ron Weasley grumbled incoherently under his breath. He was often baffled by the fact that his wife could irritate this much sometimes, and yet, do it in such a manner that he wanted her to get her way. While he really did not want to do this, he knew that she would win the argument in the end. He loved that look she got on her face when she knew that she'd won. He often wondered why he even bothered protesting sometimes, after all, she was going to win anyway and then he remembered how attractive she looked when she was angry…..but this was not the time to be contemplating on how attractive his wife was. There would be time for that later. Right now, he was simply angry. How could she do this to him? How could she make him take ballroom dance lessons?

It's usually best to start at the beginning. Their son was getting married the next year and he was having a huge wedding. While he didn't really care, his future wife was a slight bridzilla. Hermione decided that she and Ron should take up ballroom dancing for it then. And this is where are our story takes place: Ron grumbling incoherently as he entered the dance studio and waits angrily for the lesson before his to finish.

Ron looked at his watch. It was 2:35. The class should have ended five minutes before. And where was Hermione? She was supposed to meet him right about now…Ron glanced at the schedule. There was a tango class going on right now. He shuddered and hoped that Hermione wouldn't force him into taking that too. He looked up at the clock on the wall. That clock said it was 2:35. Was his watch fast or was that clock slow? It didn't matter, either way, he was here when it shouldn't be.

"Alright, everyone!" the dance instructor shouted. "That was very good. I will see you all next week!"

The door to the studio opened and around twenty women filed out of the studio. Ron noticed that there was one bloke; a young man with a miserable look on his face, but was hand in hand with a pretty girl. Ron knew what he felt like. Poor guy. Ron caught small pieces of the conversations of all the other students. "He's such a good dancer!" "He's only started taking lessons six months ago!" "He's not bad looking either!" "I'm surprised he's not already seeing someone." Ron only partially wondered who they were talking about; the other part (the stronger part) just wanted to get out of here. Then the strangest thing happened.

Draco Malfoy stepped out of the studio. Ron's jaw dropped. He still had some of his old Hogwarts-days swagger.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked.

Draco saw him and looked mildly surprised, but not at all displeased. "Taking tango lessons. What does it look like?"

"Why?" Ron asked, horrified.

"Well, after that divorce last year, I figured it'd be best to try some knew things. Tango, painting, cooking. Things like that," he shugged.

"Why would you take those classes?" Ron asked, rather horrified at the thought.

"Look around Weas….Ron," Draco gestured around the hall. "Why do you think?"

Ron looked around and understood. The class was filled with attractive women; all at least fifteen years younger than Draco. Why wouldn't Draco, a recently divorced fifty-year-old man, want to take a class where he was the only single man? "Ah."

"Yes," Draco patted him on the shoulder not noticing Ron indignant look when he did this. "Now you get it. The real question here is, what are you doing here?"

"Hugo's getting married and Hermione's making me take dance lessons for his wedding," Ron grumbled.

"Ah, yes, I heard about that. Tell him congratulations on his engagement," Draco said. He nodded to two woman who were looking their direction. "Sylvia, Clementine."

The braver of the two (Clementine) approached Ron and Draco. "R-Ron Weasley?" she asked, nervously.

"Yes," Ron said standing up a little straighter. Everyone began slowly crowding around Ron and Draco.

"Could I have your autograph?" she asked, timidly.

"Of course," and soon Ron was signing every hat, bag, and scrap of parchment thrust at him…and enjoying every minute of it. Once the crowd died away a little, the only people left were Ron, Draco, Sylvia, Clementine, and a few other women who were waiting on Sylvia and Clementine.

"Why didn't you tell us you were friends with Ron Weasley, Draco?" Sylvia asked.

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, Draco answered, "I never mentioned anything? Oh, well, yes, Ron and I go way back. We went to Hogwarts together. And last year, his daughter and my son got married," he said impressively.

"Wow," Clementine said breathlessly.

"Um, a few of us are going out for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron. Would you like to join us?" Sylvia asked.

"I can't," Ron said. "I'm waiting for my wife. That's actually why I'm here."

"Hermione Weasley!" she gasped.

At the same time, Sylvia said, "Oh, that's too bad. But, you'd still like to come, wouldn't you Draco?" She batted her eyes and put her hand on his arm flirtatiously.

"I'd love to," he grinned and the three of them walked off with some of the other students. "I'll see you around, Ron!" he called.

They left just after Ron heard one of the women asking Draco if he could get her Harry Potter's autograph and to hear him reply, "Of course! Harry and I go way back."

Hermione hurried into the hallway and gasped, "I'm so sorry I'm late! The meeting ran over and I only just got out and…" then she saw that horrified look on his face. "What's wrong?" she asked him.

"I just helped Draco Malfoy get a girl," he said; his voice barely above a whisper.

"Draco Malfoy? What was he doing here?" Hermione asked.

"Taking a tango class."

"Draco takes tango?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently."