Thank you to all of you who have stuck with me from the beginning, to those who found this as a work in progress, and to those who have plowed through this in one or more sittings because 'yay, it's complete!'

I am so appreciative of all of you. Thank you for going on this journey with me.

~A.

Chapter 41: Outro

Center Stage: Hermione and Draco
Setting: Malfoy Industries

Nine months had passed - and no, there wasn't a baby involved. Not unless one counted the adorable bundle of joy given to Daphne and Blaise Zabini. No, our story ends, much the way it began: with a dance.

That is, if our two protagonists could be on time today.

"Draco, we were supposed to leave ten minutes ago. By this time, the floo network gets clogged up, and-"

From behind his desk, Draco Malfoy smirked and counted his blessings in hopes that Hermione wouldn't send him hurling into oblivion for what he was about to say. "It's cute you think being on time is fashionable, but if that jumper is anything to go off of, you wouldn't know fashion if it slapped you in the arse." He watched her send him a scathing look before glancing down at her blue, woolen jumper which looked far too itchy to wear on any occasion.

"Molly made this for me," Hermione said defensively. "She said blue was my color."

"That material, however…" He let the disapproval hang in the air. "I'm nearly done. Just one more document to sign."

The witch nodded in response, tucking her arms behind her back. "Right." She seemed to have forgiven him quickly for the quips about her attire, but she usually did. They both knew he didn't really mean it. Even if the sweater was atrocious.

Draco finished scribbling his signature onto a patent approval and slipped it neatly into the bin marked 'approved'. Since taking on the company, he'd approved ninety-two patents to date. It was a record. And what made it even more grand was the new laws written in to give back to the patent owners. Malfoy Industries was 'in the green' as Hermione had said on multiple occasions - more than they had ever been. Who'd have thought listening to what the people wanted was actually good for business?

"Annnnd...done." Standing from his chair, he circled around his office desk and enveloped Hermione from behind in a playful hug. "Maybe the sweater wouldn't look near as drab if you made one slight adjustment?"

"Oh?" she laughed.

"It would look better on the floor."

"Draco, we don't have time!"

"Hermione, we do, if we just skip-"

He didn't get a chance to finish that sentence, because he was already being dragged toward the floo, shoved in, and sent hurdling through space before he knew it.

Draco landed with a THUNK backwards out of the hearth and smack on his arse. He groaned, glancing up in time to see Hermione arriving, perfectly upright, a grin set wide on her face.

"Come on. Pip pip! What are you doing on the floor?"

With a sneerful smirk, Draco replied, "Mind giving a chap a hand up?"

Together, they got him set right on his feet and walked hand in hand to the end of the hallway. The walls were the same, so was the floor, but what was new was the open door to Studio Uno and the people inside it.

Greg Diggle stood at the front of the room, proud and humble. He now ran the dance studio; his father was still serving another three months on house arrest for his unfortunate debacle in Diagon that night.

On his right sat Ron and Astoria, sprawled out across the floor doing some kind of exercise routine that had Ron as red as his hair. 'Yoga' Hermione had called it. Draco had called it 'No-Ga' and sent the idea packing.

In the middle were two unlikely candidates who had somehow fallen into a relationship over the last three months: Charlie Weasley and Lavender Brown. Draco supposed Charlie liked wild things, which explained why he was so fond of Lavender. They didn't quite make sense, but the worked. And that's really what counted, right?

On Diggle's left was Ginny and Harry, who had decided that the 'Salsa' seemed like a bloody good dance to have at their wedding, which was set two months from today. It was obvious who had made that call (NOT Potter). He looked more fear-stricken standing in this dance studio than he ever did standing before the Dark Lord. At least, Draco thought cheerfully, Potter would be worse at something than himself. Karma was a beautiful bitch sometimes.

"Nice of you to join us," said Greg as he and Hermione bustled into the room.

"Blame Draco," Hermione replied, already tucking her hair up into a horse-tail to keep her hair out of her eyes.

"I usually do," chided Diggle, quirking an eyebrow at Draco, who rolled his eyes in response.

"Are we going to stand around or are we going to dance?" he asked.

"Dance?" Weasley perked his head up. "Wasn't this a salsa class?"

"Uh, yeah," said Potter, inquisitively eyeing his friend. "Like, the Salsa dance? You know? Originated from Cuba and all that?" He glanced over proudly at Ginny, as if hoping she would notice his knowledge on the subject and reward him. She shot him a smile, and that was enough. God, Draco hated when Potter smiled.

"What did you think this was, Ron?" Astoria asked.

From the corner of his eye, Draco watched Weasley push his bag away from him, listening to the crunch of what sounded like something being smashed inside of it. "Er...I think I might have misunderstood…"

"Did you bring corn crisps to this rehearsal?" asked Lavender, sniffing the air.

"I haven't the faintest clue what you're...erm…" Weasley sighed. "In my defense, I like food."

"Don't we all?" laughed Charlie. "Just gives us something to snack on afterward."

"Are we all quite done?" asked Diggle, folding his arms. "I would like to begin hoy día if you wouldn't mind."

Just then, the door opened meekly, and someone familiar, yet entirely out of place, peeked her head inside. "Erm, is this...is this where I apply for the assistant director position?"

"Pansy?" gaped Draco, quirking an eyebrow. "What in the devil are you doing here?"

"Hush you," Hermione scolded him, approaching the door and opening it all the way - a gesture to invite Pansy inside. "I invited her."

"What?"

Pansy stepped inside, her nose up in the air. She waved an invitation in Draco's face as she sauntered past him all the way up to Diggle. "Miss Granger tells me you're willing to take me on."

Greg nodded. "Yes, Hermione says you trained in the ballet some years ago?"

"I did."

"Wonderful. Let's try you out today then, shall we? You can be my partner." He took a small bow.

"Do try to keep up," Pansy teased, taking her place beside him.

"Before you say another word, let me remind you that Pansy has been single for six months now. And Diggle...Lord knows how long he's been without."

"So you decided to play matchmaker?" Draco chuckled. "Why am I not surprised? But how did you get her to even entertain the notion of working?"

"Simple," she said. "I just showed her a picture of Greg and mentioned she'd be working long hours with him, should she be approved for the position."

"Cunning witch."

"Mmh, yes. Quite."

They turned toward each other and settled into first position. A wedding? Sometime in the future. But not now. For now, they both were quite content with getting to know one another. To grow and build the trust that flowed and ebbed between them. Some days they would test each other's nerves. Other days, they were the world's most powerful couple. But one thing was for certain: they inspired one another. And without inspiration, the world is quite a dull place, indeed.

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