Tango!

Tango!

Chapter One - Tango!

Hermione sloshed the wine in her glass and then sniffed it. Fruity, yes, but there was something else. What was it? Hermione took a sip, which confirmed her nose's suspicions. The vineyard had added rosemary as the wine aged. She took another sip and swallowed as she watched the flames dance in the fireplace. She liked where she sat. The chair was comfortable, and she had a small plate of sandwiches. Hermione looked upward at the dome on the top of the Teachers Lounge. The sky was black, yet tiny stars twinkled happily.

Hermione ran a hand through her hair, which was just under shoulder length (think Enigma-Kate Winslet). She had tied a scarf tied around her head that looped across the top of her head and tied at the nape of her neck, as sort of Muggle 1920s look she'd seen in a magazine. A short dress with quarter length sleeves accompanied the scarf, as well as her worn, black, one-inch heels. According to the magazine, the flapper look was coming back into style.

Her first year at Hogwarts had been a challenge. Hermione liked a challenge, but this one was of a different sort. She knew Hogwarts by heart, passageways and all, so she had no problem teaching here. However, the students had changed since she had left. Three years at the Salem University had taken her away from England. She had only come home once, to see Harry's wedding to Ginny. Otherwise, America was home. Her first week back, Hermione had noticed that England had changed. The passage of time had made her childhood home change. And the passage of time had made her students change.

There was little difference between student and teacher, and yet there was a sea of something between the two, she reflected. Aside from the power scale, the teacher learned as the students did. Arithmancy had been her best subject, and teaching it was a sort of review for her. Some of the material had progressed over time, and students had also.

She was a strict teacher, and she knew this. The twittering in the hall that only the deaf could miss told of her harsh punishments and heavy workloads. Hermione could take this. Yet she often had wondered why Britain's youth had evolved in the same direction as Lavender Brown had ten years ago.

Merlin, I'm turning into Snape, aren't I.

Her eyes roamed over her fellow teaching associates. Professor McGonagall was munching on a dinner role, laughing with Dumbledore over something. Madame Hooch was discussing Quidditch with Professor Flitwick. Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey were in a heated debate over the properties of myrrh. Only Severus Snape sat as she was, off to the side, watching everything that went on around them. He met her eyes briefly, and then continued their scan of the room.

Hermione continued to stare at the flames as the soft chords of Dumbledore's beloved chamber music drifted through the room. She didn't know how long she had sat this way when suddenly Dumbledore was seated in the chair opposite from her. His eyes twinkled with an internal light, and he smiled at her surprise.

"Reflecting, my dear?"

"Well, yes and no. I thought about things, my life here and my teaching. And all I can seem to think is that another year has passed. Professor, I am twenty-five. I have my whole life in front of me. Voldemort has been defeated, I have a wonderful job, all these brilliant colleagues, and yet, something is missing. I feel like I should get up and do something. I need some panache in my life, so to speak."

Hermione took another sip of her wine, as Professors Sprout and Flitwick began to dance to the waltz that now floated from the Muggle gramophone. McGonagall had changed positions, and so had Madame Hooch. Only Snape hadn't moved.

He infuriated her, and yet, she was drawn to him. His independence made her want to hover over him, just to see what he did when he wasn't teaching. Snape, she had found over the previous year, was more alike her than she ever could have imagined. They both had a thirst for knowledge, even thought that thirst had subsided over the years. When he was not in his niche, and his need for isolation dwindled, they had actually had several stimulating conversations. These left her running for the library, or to find a literary passage she knew she had memorized, but couldn't seem to remember.

Dumbledore noticed that her eyes had glazed over again. He decided she needed to get out of her chair.

"Would you like to dance Hermione?"

Hermione convulsed out of her train of thought. She smiled shakily at Dumbledore.

"I'd love to, Professor."

He took her hand and lifted her out of the chair with ease. He grasped her right hand and placed the other on her waist. Hermione gently rested her left hand on his arm. Her posture spoke more than her words. She arched her back slightly and turned her feet out. Hermione had obviously danced before, and knew what she was doing. In the corner of his eye, he saw that Snape had acknowledged this as well.

They swayed to the waltz, along with Sprout and Flitwick, but Dumbledore could see that Hermione's mind lay elsewhere. The song ended, yet Hermione didn't break away. AS the upbeat sounds of the tango soared from the gramophone, Hermione tensed. Her feet shifted and she turned her shoulders to match his.

"I see you know the tango?" Dumbledore asked her.

"Oh yes. My father taught it to me. He liked to dance, and we would just dance for hours when I was home. The benefits of a classical education, I suppose." Hermione smiled at the memory, her body moving automatically to the rhythm.

"Severus, come here a moment," Dumbledore called. He let go of Hermione and waved to Snape. He came over without reply.

"Hermione, Severus is excellent at the tango, if I do say so myself." Dumbledore smiled and set Hermione's hand in Snape's. He backed away, leaving the two of them. Another tango began. This one was sultrier, more upbeat. Severus turned to Hermione.

"Now Ms. Granger, be ready. Follow my lead. I will give you ample notice for anything out of the ordinary."

With that, he took her hand, and she grasped his arm. Then they began.

The two crossed the room, feet intertwining, bodies shifting to the rhythm. He spun her once, then they crossed again, her hips mirroring his, her feet following the path his led. He spun her again, this time letting her dip. She arched her back and lay limp for just a second, letting her arms brush the floor. Then she was up again, into another spin that caused her to lock her arms around his neck. They continued back and forth, the spins that swished her skirt and dips that left her breathless for a moment. The movement of shoulders, hips, and feet that left them lost in the music.

With a final spin as the music ended, Hermione broke away. Her scarf had come askew, and her skirt lay flat no longer. Severus looked exactly the same, with the exception of his slightly tousled hair. He bowed briskly, and she returned with a small curtsey. It was then that they noticed everyone else.

Dumbledore was smiling. Professors Sprout and Flitwick smiled in awe. Madame Hooch beamed. Professor Trelawney looked bemused, and Professor Lupin looked shocked. Severus took Hermione's hand, and the two bowed together. Their tiny audience roared with applause.

"Hermione, I didn't know you could dance like that," Professor Lupin said softly.

"I just had a wonderful idea! What if Severus and Hermione started a sort of Dancing Club to teach the students how to dance? It would make the Holiday Balls so much more fun," Professor Sprout exclaimed.

Dumbledore nodded, "I heartily agree. Severus? Hermione?"

"I'd love to Professor," Hermione said, still slightly out of breath. She turned to Snape, and was surprised to find him staring at her.

"If you wish, Professor," was Snape's only reply.

"Then it's settled then! Wonderful."

As the party adjourned, Hermione found herself walking alongside Severus.

"Do you really want to do this?" she asked him.

"I think I might find it enjoyable. Of course, if the students can't dance, then I don't know what will happen. They had better follow strict directions. However, I club with Professor Snape at the head should scare away some of the twittering brats."

"I agree," Hermione laughed. Snape looked at her oddly. The right corner of his mouth twitched upward.

They walked together to the teacher's wing, not speaking. The silence settled on both of them, not apart, but not together. Something had begun as they danced, though neither of them knew it. It was a comfort in each other's presence that both had not felt before. Hermione approached her door.

"Goodnight Severus," she said softly.

She was inside and the door was closed before he could respond.

"Goodnight Hermione," he whispered.