Author note: We are so sorry for not updating for a while. Things are a bit hectic at the moment. I'm (Diuchi) in the middle of exams and will first finish them June 26. When they are done and I've graduated both me and Little Hufflepuff will write new chapters! We promise you!
This chapter is written by Little Hufflepuff alone. Let's give her a hand for writing a chapter for you guys!

Live. Love. Dance

-Chapter THREE: Pirouettes and Cigarettes-

Harry stood outside the academy's large front doors, tapping his foot eagerly on the ground and nervously fiddling with an unlit cigarette held between the fingers of his right hand. His gut was squirming unpleasantly; it felt like he had wriggly worms squiggling in the pit of his stomach. Shoving his free hand into his back pocket Harry fished out his lighter.

"If you have one of those now you'll be puffing and wheezing by the time you show me your stuff." Harry whirled around on his heels, knowing the drawling voice immediately, but startled by Malfoy's sudden appearance. He hadn't heard the man approaching, hadn't even heard his car, which was parked not far off on the curb of the road. As fitting it was a flashy, expensive car.

He regained his composure quickly and shrugged his shoulders, "they help calm me," he stated as if this excused his bad habit. "And right now I'm really on edge." He said quietly more to himself than to Malfoy. The blond raised an arched brow and Harry realized he had caught the last part of his sentence.

"I kind of realized that when you shrieked at me through the phone." Draco's hair was slightly messy, it looked like he had been running his hand through it constantly, and his clothes were rumpled. "Is everything all right, Harry?" he inquired when Harry just stared at him. Harry was taken aback by the genuine concern in Draco's tone.

"Everything's fine. I was just having a bad moment." He said around a thick swallow. The lighter in his hand suddenly felt very heavy and he focused on rolling his thumb across it and watching the flickering flame burst to life from the tip.

Draco took slow steps towards Harry, his eyes solemn; Harry had the vivid mental image of Draco approaching a startled deer, slowly and with caution.

"Potter," he sighed. The use of his surname made Harry look up at the taller man from under his fringe. Draco's lips were drawn flat into a thin line. Harry wasn't certain whether the man was concerned or annoyed – it looked like both emotions were battling for victory. It was almost comical to watch Draco's smooth features furrow with the emotions. Harry didn't feel much like smiling so he settled on looking up in askance.

Draco stopped a foot away from him and Harry could smell the slight tangy scent of alcohol. Had Draco been drinking? If so Harry hoped he hadn't had much, not if he had been driving.

"What's really bothering you?" Draco asked softly. Harry didn't want to talk about what Victor had done or his own doubts and anger at himself. It wasn't the first time that he had stopped Victor when the older boy had wanted sex, in fact the situation was actually quite common between them.

When they had only just began dating Victor would be gentle and understanding when Harry said he wasn't in the mood and just wanted someone to talk with.

However, when Harry continued to stop Victor on numerous occasions the brunet had started to get snappish at Harry. It wasn't so bad at first, Harry could even understand why Victor would be annoyed, he wouldn't like to be stopped abruptly when he was in the mood, but still! Did he really deserve his boyfriends' harsh words tonight?

Some small niggling part of Harry screamed yes loudly and it made him feel nauseated. Perhaps he really did deserve it. He didn't mean to be frigid at times, but there were days when he just needed someone to hold him and talk with him. Sex was good, and at times Harry wanted nothing else but to be with Victor physically, but tonight he had just needed someone to chat to.

Draco cleared his throat and Harry blinked. He'd been staring blankly at the blond. "What's going on? What made you so doubtful?" Harry dropped his head, hanging it so low his chin almost touched his chest. "Harry?"

"Can we just get on with the dancing? What do you want me to do?" Harry changed the subject bluntly and stepped away from Draco. Before the slighter could get another step away Draco reached out and caught Harry's wrist, his hand was strong and palm warm. The lighter in Harry's hand was squeezed into a fist.

Harry froze, not sure how to take the sudden contact between them and somewhat panicked that Draco was about to strike him or shake him roughly. His fear sapped away like water down a drain when Draco tugged gently at his wrist, dragging him a step closer.

"You've been crying," Harry couldn't restrain the blush that bloomed over his cheeks at the accusation; it made his head spin from the rush of blood. He didn't pull away from Draco, he left his wrist in the hold of the man's firm grip and just stared at his feet, hoping Draco would leave him be.

Draco wasn't finished speaking, he absently brushed the pad of his thumb over the tender underside of Harry wrist in an attempt to soothe the boy. "You're eyes are rimmed red," he said as if proving his indictment correct, "why have you been crying?"

Harry swallowed as he chanced a look up at Draco. The man's silver eyes were round with concern; it surprised Harry that someone he had only recently met would be worried about his wellbeing. It was something Harry had never experienced and his resolve began to crack.

"I," his voice broke over the word, clearing his throat he tried again, "I just had a bad moment." It was a deterrent they both knew it and had Draco not been so stubborn he might have accepted Harry's words.

"I'm sure you had a bad moment," Draco said after a brief silence, "however, I also think you've been upset by someone…" Harry gritted his teeth.

"Just what are you getting at?" he snapped. The warm thumb brushed over his pulse point in his wrist. Draco tilted his head to one side, studying the slim dancer.

"I think you know, Harry."

Harry threw his head to one side in a gesture of annoyance. Yes, he did know. "You're blaming him for me being upset?" it was more an angry statement then a question but Draco answered regardless.

"I'm not blaming him, but I do think he's done something. Would I be right?" he asked Harry simply. And damn it! He was right. Harry was put out by just how observant Draco was. "You haven't denied it." Draco added when Harry refused to talk.

Another soft brush of Draco's thumb over his wrist had Harry's throat swelling with a thick, difficult swallow. Wetness prickled behind his eyes, burning them with the threat of tears. He didn't want to think about Victor just now.

"Tell me what's bothering you, what did he do?" Draco questioned calmly. He moved closer so they were now standing toe to toe. Harry could smell and almost taste the alcohol on the man's breath. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion – Draco was being uncharacteristically soft and gentle with Harry and the boy didn't know why.

Dropping his gaze from Draco's steady scrutiny Harry sighed. Twisting the unlit cigarette between the fingers of his free hand Harry decided to get it out, to rip the words from his throat like a child might rip a band-aid from their leg. "Victor said some things that weren't very nice, it made me upset." His words were decidedly rushed and breathy.

Draco lifted his free hand to his lips and trailed his finger tip across his mouth in contemplation. Now that the words had been spoken out loud Harry found them to sound childish and stupid. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping to hide from his embarrassment. His chest felt tight, whether from nerves of confiding in Draco or because what Victor had said still stung at his emotions, Harry wasn't certain.

The quiet stretched longer. Harry dropped his head down, letting his messy hair hide his face. He snapped his chin up a moment later when Draco tugged the cigarette from between his fingers. Harry let the blond take it, his grip lax.

Draco frowned somewhat at the cigarette before looking directly at Harry. Harry swallowed a gasp that climbed his throat when Draco lifted his trapped wrist and plucked the lighter from his palm with confident movements. Had it been anyone else Harry probably would have demanded his belongings back, but somehow he knew Draco wasn't intending to keep them.

"Here," Draco said so quietly it could be classed as a whisper. Harry looked inquisitively at Draco's hands; the blond had long fingers and neatly trimmed nails. He was fumbling with the lighter, running his thumb over the little wheel to ignite the flame. "It goes against the rules I have in place, but," he glanced at Harry with a small shrug, "you are tense and I want you to talk with me before you dance."

"Why?" Harry said just as quietly as Draco.

Lifting the cigarette to the flame Draco touched the tip of it and waited for it to light. "Because if you have a problem it will interfere with your dancing and I want you to be able to show me your best."

The cigarette crackled and a thin wisp of smoke curled into the darkening sky. "Oh," Harry breathed.

Draco was only being kind so Harry wouldn't stuff up his addition. He didn't really care about Harry's problems; he just wanted to know if he could get a new, talented dancer. Harry's gut prickled with unease and despite himself he couldn't quite hold back the quiver in his bottom lip.

Don't cry! His mind screamed at him. If you do you'll seem even more pathetic. Draco won't want to have a cry-baby on his dancing team!

It was stupid to get upset over something so trivial. He had only known Draco for a short while. In that time they'd never actually shared a true conversation, and Harry knew his smoking and attitude grated on Draco's nerves. A tiny part of Harry had wanted to make a good impression with Draco when they first met, and an even tinier part had wanted the man to like him.

"Open your lips," Draco ordered, his tone was soft nevertheless. Harry complied numbly, feeling out of sorts now that he understood why Draco was being so kind. "Good boy," despite his upset Harry's belly flipped when Draco reached out and placed the lit cigarette between his lips.

He took a long inhale, savoring the almost immediate rush of endorphins. Smoking really did make him feel calmer. After a minute of Harry dragging in long breaths of smoke and blowing them out to one side so Draco didn't cop a face full, Draco spoke up.

"Better?" he asked with a twist of his lips. It wasn't exactly a smirk but neither was it a smile. Harry nodded his head finishing up the now shrunken cigarette. "Want to sit down?" Harry looked to where Draco was pointing and shrugged in compliance.

Once they were settled on a small step just outside the large doors Harry cleared his throat. "You know, I'm feeling much better now."

"Mmm," Draco hummed. Harry knew the blond didn't believe him. "Good. I still want to know what's bothering you." He stated. Harry's shoulders hunched forward in defiance.

"It's nothing, it's stupid."

"You said Victor said some things that weren't nice, what did he say?"

Harry was about to lie and brush off Draco's concern, but when he turned to do so he caught the sight of Draco's worried frown, the little line that had appeared between his eyebrows and the attentive grey eyes. Surely no one could feign concern so well? If Draco simply wanted Harry to get his problems off his chest so he could dance better, why did he look so worried for him. Was Draco an emotional drunk?

No, it couldn't be that. The man wasn't even tipsy, let alone drunk. But maybe the alcohol had softened his demeanor somewhat?

Harry didn't know why Draco's attitude had shifted so abruptly.

"It wasn't that bad; he just got a bit hot-headed and told me to leave. That's all." Technically all those things had happened. Harry just skimmed over the other parts. Draco received his answer with a nod of his head.

"Why was he hot-headed?"

Harry stiffened. He'd hoped Draco could have been satisfied with his brief explanation. Apparently not.

"Erm…"

"Erm isn't an answer." Draco said when Harry floundered for words. Surprised by the mild reprimand Harry drew up his knees and rested his arms across them.

Fiddling with the denim of his jeans Harry shrugged. "He just gets like that sometimes is all. Everyone does at times." He whispered not looking over at the blond even when he could feel a burning stare on the side of his face.

"Did he hurt you?" Draco's voice was low. A tendril of heat curled in Harry's belly at the dangerous tone. A second later the heat disappeared when Harry digested what Draco had meant.

"No!" He said overly loud, Draco raised his brows up his forehead slowly. "I mean, he's never hurt me like that. He's really gentle and nice. He just has his moments when he gets annoyed. It was my fault anyway."

Watching the boy lower his head sullenly Draco shifted on the cold stone step, stretching his legs out in front of him he said; "why is it your fault?" Harry's reply was quick in coming.

"I didn't let him have something."

"Didn't let him have what?" Draco pressed.

"Something, it's not important what it was, Draco." Harry's lips were pursed tightly, making them flush a lighter shade of pink. "He got upset, told me to leave and that was it."

Silence from the blond. Harry shifted his knees closer to his body, his shoes scraped across the ground, the sound oddly loud.

"He made you cry," Harry wrapped his arms around his shins and cuddled his legs. "You don't appear to be the type of boy who cries over trivial matters, there's more to the story than you are telling me."

"I hate how observant you are, you know that?" Harry grumbled. Draco gave a shocked little laugh at the boy's unexpected words.

"You're making it too easy to notice things, Harry. You're terrible at hiding your emotions." Draco responded. Harry tilted his head to peer up at the blond, his features were shadowed but Harry could plainly see the smile that played about his lips. It made the boy want to smile also.

"Can I dance for you now?" asked Harry when a comfortable silence blanketed them. Draco stared at him for a long moment.

Sighing he nodded, "I don't think I'm going to get any more information out of you tonight." He stated, it was more directed at himself than to Harry. "What genre do you want to dance in?"

Harry mentally sigh a breath of relief, his muscles relaxed, having been tight all throughout Draco's interrogation. He was glad that the man had decided to drop it and let him dance.

"Contemporary, it's what I know best." Harry said, he stood up quickly, feeling strangely lighter now that he had shared his problems, albeit the bare minimum. Draco got to his feet in one fluid movement. "You dance don't you?" Harry asked impulsively.

Of course Draco danced, he taught it. But Harry also knew a lot of dance teachers were retired and no longer danced. By Draco's elegance Harry discerned he still danced.

"I do. Not as much as I would like too, my job keeps me on my toes, but I do occasionally take time out to dance." He gave Harry the barest of smiles that still managed to look warm and bright, "shall we go in? It's getting a bit chilly out."

Harry's body felt shaky with adrenalin. He knew he was good at dancing, he knew he could beat a lot of other dancers when he had too, but something about standing in front of the gorgeous blond and fighting for a place at his dance academy made Harry's skin crawl with nerves.

"Just relax," Draco said to him, it was as if he had eavesdropped on Harry's thoughts. Taking a steadying breath Harry loosened his shoulders. He didn't want to mess this addition up, he wanted to come back on Monday and wow Draco.

-DMHP-

Harry's muscles ached pleasantly, the sort of ache that one got after a good work out. Harry's legs were slightly on the shaky side, having worked hard during the impromptu audition. His arms fared better but his abdomen was tight and burning from all the jumps and twists he had performed. The audition had been quick, barely twenty minutes of dancing.

Harry sniffed absently and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was late evening and he was making his way down a dimly lit street. The chill in the air brushed his cheeks until they were pink.

Draco had been subdued and thoughtful after the tryout. Harry wasn't certain how to take it. Had he been good? Fair? Terrible? Gods he hoped he wasn't the latter. He'd pushed himself, despite the bruises left from his uncle and the nagging hurt still remaining from Victor's words, Harry had tried his utmost best.

He walked under a tall street light, its orange glow beaming down on him. He didn't want to think about what he would do if he didn't get in. As it was his grades were suffering from his dismal attendance at school, so he had little hopes of ever getting a well-paying, respectable job. His only talent was dancing. It was the one thing he truly wanted to do.

Kicking at a solidary pebble in his path Harry peered up at the apartment building. He knew Victor said to leave, but he desperately wanted to make amends with his boyfriend so the heaviness in his stomach would disappear.

He didn't get any closer to the building before a voice shouted out to him.

"Harry!" Harry spun around on his heels, scanning the empty street for the source of the noise. A moment later Victor emerged from a thicket of trees a bit away, his hair was pushed back from his forehead and he looked flustered. "Hey babe," he breathed out deeply when he was closer. Harry's lips flickered into a hesitant smile.

"Hey," he said softly. "Where've you been?" Victor flashed Harry his own tentative smile, shifting on the balls of his feet as he did so.

"Went for a run," he shrugged, "needed some fresh air and to clear my head." Harry felt his face heat with a guilty flush. It was his fault that Victor needed to get away –wanted to get away from him.

Twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers Harry swallowed noisily, Victor looked at him calmly. "Vic," started Harry, he half expected Victor to stop him and tell him he didn't want to hear it, but the older boy merely tipped his head to one side and waited for Harry to continue. "I'm sorry about earlier, I," another swallow, even louder this time, "I shouldn't have stopped you."

Victor rolled his shoulders and shook his head. The movement was small, almost like he didn't want to do it. "Don't worry about it babe," he ruffled his sweaty hair. Harry felt even guiltier due to Victor's flippant tone; it was as if he had expected nothing less of Harry. And that hurt.

"Vic," he tried again, "I really am sorry…"

"And I said don't worry about it." The curt tone cut Harry deep and he took a step back from Victor, blinking his eyes quickly to cover up the rush of tears that wanted to fall. Victor noticed Harry flinch. His dark eyes softened a little and he frowned. "It's fine babe. Really." He said more gentle with his attitude this time.

Harry knew it wasn't fine. Victor clearly wasn't okay about it.

"You know I like being with you, Victor, I really do. And," blushing Harry kicked at the ground with the tip of his shoe, "and the sex is good, you and I both know that –"

"Then why don't you ever want it?"

"I do!" Harry exclaimed desperately. His head snapped up to stare at his boyfriend. "I do," he said more quietly, "it's just that I wanted to have a talk." Yeah. When he said it out loud for the world to hear it did sound lame. Like an excuse. He couldn't blame Victor for being hurt by his denial.

Victor crossed his arms across his chest, the scarce dark hairs on his forearms noticeable in the orange glow of the street lights. "We could have talked, Harry. It's not impossible to talk after sex you know?"

His words were condescending. Harry guessed he deserved them. He nodded stiffly. Victor was right; they could have shagged and talked.

"I'm sorry," Harry's voice was barely audible. The words virtually mouthed not spoken. Victor shrugged awkwardly with his arms crossed.

"Doesn't matter." He said shortly. "You'll do it again."

That stung. Did Victor really think him so reserved?

"It does matter," Harry said. His lips and tongue felt dry and more than anything he wished Victor would hold him and give him sweet, soft kisses to make the lump in his stomach go away. But judging by Victor's defensive stance that wouldn't be happening.

"Look, I know that I've done it before," Victor grunted at that. Harry looked to the ground but continued to speak. "Sometimes I just like to talk with you. It's nice to know we can just sit and talk about everything and anything."

A long sigh was the only response he got. Then Victor spoke; "where have you been tonight?" Harry shrugged one shoulder up. "With the blond?" Victor said sharply.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek at the sharp edge to Victor's voice. "You mean Draco?" he questioned as casually as he could. He was treading on slippery ground. He knew Victor didn't like Draco. Would he be mad? He already was Harry supposed.

"Yes," Victor's teeth were clenched. He took one look at the wide-eyed expression Harry was wearing and hissed a profanity into the night. "Fucking hell, why the fuck would you go see him for? Going to cry on his shoulder about your big, mean boyfriend?"

Harry had expected the words to upset him. He'd been on the verge of tears far too much tonight. Instead the words angered him. He wasn't sure if he was feeling protective over Draco or annoyed that Victor was having a go at him. It didn't really matter where the anger stemmed from, he could use it to hide his hurt.

"Would you stop cursing?" Harry said loudly, Victor opened his mouth to reply. Harry glared and waved his hand in a silencing gesture. "Just shut up for a moment and listen to me. You told me to get out; you said you didn't bloody care if the Dursley's hurt me! So I left and went to see Draco for an audition."

"For an audition…?"

"That's what I said wasn't it?" Harry narrowed his eyes, it wasn't a full on glare, but it had to be menacing.

Victor squeezed his lips tightly together. "Why did you have an audition in the evening? He's probably some sicko who wants to get in your pants! Luring you out by yourself."

That done it. Harry saw red.

"You're such a hypocrite, Victor!" The taller boy furrowed his brows at Harry's expletive. "Draco is your age! I was having doubts. He gave me the option to try out to see if I should come back Monday for a full audition. There was nothing sick about it, he watched me dance and then said he'd see me Monday. End of story. Stop having a go at him just because you're jealous of him. What is it exactly that you don't like about him?" Harry finished with a huff and swore under his breath.

Victor was silent for a long minute, standing with his arms hanging loosely by his sides and watching Harry carefully as if he expected his little lover to blow up into a thousand shattered pieces.

"I don't like the way he looks at you." He said finally, under his breath, quietly. Harry balked in surprise.

What?

"What?"

Victor licked his lips quickly, wetting them before he spoke. "He looks at you like…like he wants you."

"Maybe he does want me; he said he needed a leading male dancer –"

"No," Victor cut Harry off, "not in that way. He wants you. I don't like it. I don't want any other guy looking at you like that. It sets my teeth on edge."

Harry nibbled on his bottom lip. Draco Malfoy looking at him like he wanted him! Harry. The thought sent little butterflies to flutter in his chest. His blood warmed pleasantly and he was alarmed to find that some part of him wanted Draco to want him.

"I don't think he wants me, Victor." And it was the truth. He knew Victor could get jealous easy. He had done in the past. And if Harry was honest he couldn't see a successful, handsome man like Draco Malfoy ever wanting a ruffian like himself. "He's very career focused and besides he didn't seem very impressed with my dancing, he probably won't even let me join."

It made Harry glum when Victor perked up at this. "Really?" The older boy asked. Harry nodded solemnly and Victor schooled his features into a mask of empathy.

"I'm sure you did great, baby." Harry's heart jumped in his chest at the endearment. It was a sure sign Victor was coming out of his bad tempered mood. "If he doesn't let you join he's a foolish git."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sincerity in Victor's brown eyes. He liked it when Victor was supportive and kind. "I hope I do get in though." Harry admitted softly.

"I know. Just promise me something…?" Harry looked up at Victor from under his fringe, he quirked an eyebrow in question. "If you get in and he tries anything let me smash his nose in."

A coil of emotion that screamed no burnt through Harry's stomach all the while battling with the warm feeling of having Victor be protective over him. He didn't want anything to happen to Draco, not that he really understood why that was. He settled on giving a thin smile.

"He won't try anything, Vic. He probably already has a partner…I don't even know if he's gay." And that was true. For all Harry was aware of Draco could have some cute, petite girlfriend who giggled at his jokes and ran her fingers through his blond hair after he had a long day at work.

Victor held out one hand towards Harry. It was a silent invitation for the boy to come cuddle up in his arms. Harry grinned a little giddily, happy to have his boyfriend serene. He took the offered hand and let the larger boy drag him into a tight cuddle.

"The way Malfoy was looking at you earlier made it obvious that he's inclined towards the male gender. He was literally drooling over you!" Harry laughed, knowing that Victor was over exaggerating. He'd not even noticed Draco paying him any special attention.

"You're just seeing things, Vic, he isn't interested…" even if I wish he was.

Harry wrapped his arms around Victor's middle, hugging him close and ignoring the musky scent of sweat that clung to Victor's hair and clothes.

"Mmm," Victor said noncommittally. "Let's go inside and you can tell me about the audition, yeah?"

Relieved and content Harry nodded against the soft fabric of Victor's T-shirt and allowed himself to be pulled over to the apartment building, all the while cuddled safely in strong arms.