19 Years (HP - Drarry)

Chapter 29: Dueling Lessons

Monday, October 16, 2017

Harry shooed his students out the door a few minutes early, then stood hesitantly outside Draco's door, arm raised, poised to knock, debating with himself. He could just... leave. Turn around, walk back to his rooms. Out of the castle. Something. He hadn't promised Draco that he'd show. He didn't owe Draco anything. And yet.

The door opened, then, taking the decision from him. He stepped back to let the stream of giggling students pass, ignoring the pointing fingers and snickering from James' friends. He'd faced worse, after all, than a few stares.

Draco looked up as he entered, and the smile that lit up his face - admittedly still-pointy, though less so than it had been - made it all seem worthwhile. Harry felt a shiver run through him, as he realized that Draco could ask anything of him, and all it would take was that smile to make Harry agree.

"What is it?" Draco asked, stepping closer and peering anxiously down into Harry's eyes. "You had the strangest expression on your face just then."

"Hmm? Oh. It was nothing." Harry shrugged the disturbing thought away, using Draco's presence in front of him as a lodestone for his wandering thoughts. They snapped easily back to him, and Harry wondered how often he must have done this, for the shift to be so automatic.

Draco still looked concerned, but he accepted Harry's apology readily enough. "Thank you for coming." He looked... nervous, Harry decided, and wondered what on earth Draco had to be nervous about.

"Sure," he said absently, resisting the urge to poke about in Draco's cabinets, remembering the last time he'd done so. A soft melody drifted through the air, and it took him a moment to register the change.

"Malfoy?" he asked, looking up warily, "why is there music?"

Draco straightened from where he'd been bent over a small box, fiddling with a knob on its front. "Surely you know what dancing is, Potter? Even if you are a heathen?"

Harry felt his breathing quicken, his eyes widening in alarm. "I...I don't dance."

Draco snorted. "Well, after your poor excuse for proper dueling posture yesterday, it's not as if I'm surprised. Now. Come here."

Harry hesitated.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter!" Draco rolled his eyes. "How am I supposed to teach you proper dueling posture if you won't cooperate?"

"Dueling posture," Harry said pointedly.

Draco sighed. "Dancing posture is dueling posture, Potter. If you can learn one, you can learn the other."

"Malfoy..." Harry looked frantically around the room, hoping to find a convenient excuse for escape, but nothing was out of place. There were no students coming back to ask a question, or loitering to get into mischief. Draco was between him and the door. He was trapped.

"Come here, Potter." Draco's voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of command, and Harry's feet obeyed without him thinking about it. He forced himself to stop walking once he realized, but he had already crossed the room to stand in front of Draco.

Harry sighed. He didn't protest when Draco stepped even closer, nor when he reached out, claiming Harry's hands. He gulped when Draco placed one hand on his waist, gripping the other tightly in one cool, dry hand.

Harry's palms were sweating, and he had a near-overwhelming urge to wipe them on his pants, only Draco was still holding them. Then, Draco moved, drawing Harry along with him, and they were dancing.

"Potter!" Draco exclaimed, after Harry stepped on his toes for the fifth time in as many minutes, "have you ever danced before in your life?"

"Yes," Harry said stiffly, "At the Yule Ball. And at the wedding."