¡Tango!

¡Tango!

He was late, but Remus was always late, so he didn't need to bother. He climbed down the stairs leading to the bar's entrance. Why Remus had chosen a Muggle establishment for their meeting was a mystery to him - and so was the fact that he'd let himself be talked into this. Wearing jeans and all. Well, at least they were black jeans and he'd found a black shirt, and it was as good as impossible that anyone here would recognise him.

He was halfway down the stairs when he froze and gasped, feeling goosebumps creeping up his arms. Music. Sounding through the closed door. Another shiver ran down his spine. Not any music - Hasta Morir by Astor Piazolla. Tango. Awww ... he took a deep breath and couldn't help but close his eyes. He adored it. It was his one secret passion (or had been, he corrected himself - now there were two). Tango was like ... feeling the weight of the world being lifted from his shoulders. It was pure bliss. And it took hi right back ...

He kept standing in front of the door until the song was finished. Then he entered the damp and barely lit room, not daring to hope that there actually could be... it was a band! So there would be a concert. He couldn't believe it. He looked around, but so far, he was the only guest. That probably meant the band was still soundchecking. The piano player seemed to complain about something, whereupon the other musicians sighed and nodded, and then repeated the song.

Severus took a table not too close to the stage. He scanned the bar for someone who might sell him a drink, but no such luck. He really seemed to be the only non-musician in this place. But he didn't feel uncomfortable. He would definitely enjoy himself as long as they kept playing just like that. Libertangowas next. With its pounding rhythm and captivating melody, it tucked right at his soul ... and wouldn't let go. The ensemble was ecxellent. Not that he'd seen any live acts recently, not in the last six years (that was, if you didn't count the various, hah, exploits of one Mr. Potter), but he recognised talent when he saw it. They had the passion and the skill. They didn't need to use enchanted instruments or intonation spells. Sometimes, though, it seemed like the music was taking control, so that the players almost couldn't keep pace, and then there was only a very thin line between perfection and failure - it was like preparing a new never-before-tested potion for the first time. Yes! This was the real stuff. Muggle stuff, but still.

For the next half an hour, he just watched and listened. He knew all the songs by heart and with every passing minute he was drawn in deeper. Which was, strange enough, quite relaxing. He risked another glare at the bar and found that someone was returning it. He sighed, got to his feet, strode over and chose the most complicated name on the menu. He started fumbling for his Muggle money while the waiter was busying himself with various bottles. When he'd finally found a ten shilling piece, a glass with something pink and a little umbrella was shoved into his hand.

"Thass alright, mate. On the house."

Severus blinked. Was something wrong with his shilling? But before he could give the theory any more thought, he was swept away by a crowd of people who assaulted the bar. "Manners, Muggles!" he growled, but his voice was drowned by muliple chattering and laughing. The place had got shockingly crowded. He made a desperate dash for safety, only to collide with the piano player, who had appeared out of nowhere.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." She sounded quite breathless. "But we had a bit of an emergency rehearsal. New man on the guitar. It's all kind of messy right now. But - we are so glad you could come! I can't thank you enough." She beamed.

Severus looked around - sure that she was speaking to someone else - but there was no-one. At least no-one paying attention. "Really?" he finally managed.

"Why of course, dear!" She didn't seem to know sarcasm. "Our last presenter was a real disappointment. His heart wasn't in it. He didn't even like tango, and was never following the script anyway. And then he chickened out only three days ago. Can you believe it?"

"Presenter?" This conversation was heading nowhere Severus could follow.

"We always wanted to have someone doing more than just the usual last-song-this-and-next-song-that announcements."

"And - that would be? And what -" has that to do with me, woman?

"Poetry, of course!" she cut him enthusiastically, clapping her hands together. "I was told you have a commanding presence on the stage. And an impressive voice."

"I definitely ... well, have, but - "

"I prepared them for you." Severus automatically took the little cards she was waving in front of his face.

She frowned. "That is of course, unless you haven't brought your own."

"What? No. But -"

"You'll like them." She pushed him into a chair and squeezed his shoulder conspirationally. "So, why don't you take your time preparing before I introduce you to the others? I'll pick you up, say ... in fifteen minutes? Oh - we're all so happy you're helping out."

She turned on her heels and Severus needed a few moments to regain composure. This was sure a huge misunderstanding. There was no bloody way he would recite poetry on a stage.

He scanned the cards absently. He wouldn't do it. Not even when it was ... lyrics ... tango lyrics. He started reading. Not even when it was very beautifully written tango lyrics, and ... the words - for I am a tree that never blossomed, for I am a dog without a master, for I feel hate I can't ever speak of - weren't so ... bad.

No. Whoever he'd been confused with would show up any minute! He would ... would he?

After ten minutes he realised that he'd started to memorise the text. He shook his head angrily and rose from his seat. He could leave now - and miss the concert - he could wait for Remus outside - like a bloody idiot - or he could just say 'no'. For all he cared they could bloody well perform without him - as if he would be able to still enjoy the concert under those circumstances - or - the piano woman waved at him from behind the stage - he could just do it.

He sighed. They were just Muggles. He couldn't embarass himself that much now, could he? He straightened up. It was all in the service of a greater good. Or Le Grand Tango.

***

He saw Remus entering the bar shortly after the concert was over, and Severus felt a sting of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He'd totally forgotten about him. Being late for almost two hours was quite odd - even for Remus. How could he've been so absorbed with that silly performance? Well ... he'd loved every minute of it. He'd really been a part of the music and people had even been applauding him. He hadn't felt so good since ...

"Hey!" Remus shouted over the background noise.

"You're alright?" He still felt guilty. He probably couldn't have pulled it off with Remus watching the show.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I've got this terrible -"

"Never mind," Severus cut him. "I had lots of ... entertainment."

Remus eyed him curiously. "Really?"

"Yes."

"So," he sounded tense, "you liked your ... birthday present?"

"My ... ?"

Remus held his breath.

Severus stared. "You ... arranged this? You set me up?"

Remus' hands shot up in sudden, exaggerated defiance. "No! They were really looking for a new presenter. I didn't pay them or anything. I just thought you would ... like it. Just for yourself."

"Then you were late on purpose?"

Remus smiled.

"That's ... I don't know what to say."

A flicker of smugness showed on Remus' face. "So, you liked it?"

Severus held his eyes for quite a long time before he answered. "Well, why don't you show up on time for the next ... gig, and see for yourself - if I like it?"

Remus' smile broadened. "I think I can do that. As long as I don't have to dance."

Severus smirked. "Lo Que Vendra."

The end