Tango!

Draco snatched his discarded cloak form the floor, and made a hurried exit from the hall.

It hadn't been such a good lesson. In fact, it couldn't have been much worse.

Harry Potter had been clutched to his chest for a painfully long hour, and the only thing he had managed to learn during that lesson was that swearing at your teacher every time she says "you two are looking good" doesn't help the situation.

It just gains you fours hours of detention.

The whole lesson was a joke. Well, there was nothing serious about dancing with your enemy, but what he meant was that what was supposed to be something to look forward to was actually something not far from a nightmare- the Yule Ball.

Muggle dancing lessons? What kind of an idiot thought that up! It was bad enough on its own, but dancing with your worst enemy? Ouch.

No, this torture had to end. This was worse than sharing a room with Crabbe and Goyle when they had eaten baked beans for dinner...well, maybe not quite that bad. But all the same, it had to end; it would end.

Heading towards the common room, Draco was stopped by the unmistakable voice of Blaise Zabini, the most annoying girl in Slytherin (or so Draco thought).

"Draco! Draco, wait a minute, I want to talk to you!"

Controlling his immeasurable level of hate that was simmering just beneath the surface, Draco turned on his heel, and gritted his teeth.

"What is it, Blaise?" he said.

Blaise smiled wryly, and stopped infront of him.

"Well...I heard--," she paused and sniggered. "I just heard that you danced with...Potter! Is it true?"

Draco sighed.

Well, I'll be damned. I left the hall roughly thirty seconds ago, and already the news is spreading. Shit.

Had it been anyone Draco liked even in the slightest, he would have snapped something almost remotely polite. As it was, Draco was talking to one of the many people he did not like, which therefore increased his unpleasantness tenfold.

"Blaise. Unless you want that ridiculously large nose you are so unfortunate to wear on your pitiful excuse for a face thumped so hard it leaves an indention in the back of your head, I suggest you go back to whatever pointless, useless thing it is that you do to amuse yourself, and leave me alone. Clear?"

Blaise stuttered for a few minutes, looking slightly shocked (though rather uninjured) by Draco's curt attitude.

Once she realised there was no way she could honestly insult Draco's appearance, she decided it would be a good idea to just turn sharply on her heel and stalk off, and did so promptly.

* * *

Meanwhile, somewhere amongst the Gryffindor dormitories, a certain best friend of a certain famous dark- haired Gryffindor was exploding in what can only be described as a fit of...Weasley-rage!

"I can't believe it! I just can't believe it, you had to dance with Malfoy?...I...I Grrrrr !!!"

"Ron! Please! Look, first thing tomorrow morning I will go and see Professor Dumbledore, tell him the problem and get this sorted. Ron, will you please stop chewing the curtain!"

Ron, still red in the face, --or was that his hair? Harry couldn't tell without his glasses on-- released the curtain from his teeth, and flopped backwards onto the bed.

"So what's it like?" he asked after a few minutes awkward silence.

"Eh?"

"The Tango, what's it like?"

"Oh," Harry's brow furrowed in thought for a minute, "Well, it's complicated. Quite fast, but very hard to get on with when you are dancing with your sworn enemy!"

Ron grunted but didn't comment.

"What was Hermione like at dancing."

"Dunno. Didn't really see her. Knowing her she was probably great at it, like most things."

"Yeah I hope so."

The reason behind all these questions soon became clear to Harry, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "Why do you ask?"

Ron blushed (again!) and stared fixedly at the ceiling. "No reason."

Harry laughed. "I'm not falling for that! You want to ask her to the ball don't you?"

"Well...yeah, I do, but don't let on, alright?"

Harry chuckled to himself quietly. "Yeah, alright Ron, I won't tell."

"Cheers."

* * *

Not to break the habit of several lifetimes, Harry found himself running frantically down the corridor, late for Potions. He did have a good excuse though.

He had just been to Dumbledor's office, asking about the possibilities of changing groups, and was now twenty minutes late...damn it!

He had tried to talk to the Professor after supper the previous night. However, Dumbledore had been busy talking to Professor Trelawney and told Harry to come back the next morning, which he had just done.

At last he reached the Dungeons, and slid into the room, from where he was greeted with the crawling voice of his Professor, Snape.

"Potter! How nice of you to join us, late as usual," he snapped as soon as he saw Harry enter.

"Professor, I'm sorry, I was--" Snape held up his hand, sufficiently stemming Harry's flow of words.

"From you, Potter, I have heard every excuse in the book. I believe detention will change your mind about being late for potions again. Thursday, in here after supper, and do not be late. Now, kindly sit down, and let me get on with teaching this class." He said and turned to walked toward his desk.

Harry glanced around the room. Seamus, Colin, Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy...Malfoy?! That didn't look like the snobby, stuck up, malevolent face of Malfoy. He had heard Harry get detention, and was looking totally miserable!

At last Harry's eyes rested upon Ron, who was sitting unnecessarily close to Hermione in the corner. Hurriedly, he made his way over and plonked down on the other side of Ron.

"So, how did it go?" Ron said in a whisper. Harry frowned.

"How did what go?" he asked.

"How did it go with Dumbledore?"

"Oh, that! Not so good. He said that because we were sorted by ability I couldn't change groups. But he did say that he would try and see to it that I wouldn't have to dance with Malfoy any--"

"POTTER!!!!!!!"

Harry cringed. Oh god, what was Snape going to do with him now?

* * *

"Miserable, old, slimy son of a wart hog! What did he have to go and do that for! I mean double detention, yeah, but for a week?! I think that was a bit harsh!" Harry yelled, before flinging himself down onto the sofa next to Hermione.

"Yes, I know what you mean. Snape did overreact a bit. Although, come to think of it, Snape was acting a bit strange all the way through the lesson, even before you turned up late," Hermione commented.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked curiously.

Hermione turned to face him, looking very pensive.

"Well, it's just that. Well...you know how Snape never gives detentions out to his own house?" she said.

"Yes...?"

"And especially not to Malfoy?"

"Yes...?"

"Well, before you came in, Snape had been helping Crabbe with his potion, and he asked Crabbe a question. 'So would it be the roots, or the stem that goes in next?' I think it was, or something similar anyway. Well. Malfoy, being the know-all that he is, answered for him. And Snape suddenly snapped at him that he would be serving detention on Thursday, at the same time he later gave you!" she exclaimed.

Harry pondered this for a while and then sighed.

"I wish Snape were a woman," he said, loftily.

Ron laughed, and Hermione gasped.

"What! Why?"

"Because that way I could chalk all of this up to Professor Snape being a woman and not have to worry about why the professor that hates me the most has put me in a detention with the person he likes best. But in the circumstances, I don't think that excuse would work."

Ron and Hermione laughed.

"No Harry," Ron said between laughs, "I don't think it would!"

"Yeah, and being a woman doesn't entail being constantly moody, evil and confusing you know, so even then it wouldn't make any difference!" Hermione said, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

Ron looked at her and raised his eyebrows.

"Well that's your opinion!" he said.

* * *