He hauled her up against him. She suppressed a shiver at the feel of his hard body against hers. The notes of the violins seemed to slice through the air. She couldn't tell a paso doble from a tango or a waltz, and so blindly followed where he led. It seemed natural to let him take charge in this, her body instantly molding itself to his, her movements in sync with his, her frame acquiescing to his subtle movements, bending for a dip, spinning in a graceful twirl, allowing him to lift her. Well, the last she could not help. With his strong hands around her waist, there was no way she could offer any resistance to being displaced.

His eyes seemed to bore into her soul, through the layers of flesh and bone, as the orchestra played the last strains of the song and the dance came to an end.

"Thank you for the dance, Draco."

"It was my pleasure, Hermione," he said, quickly recovering from her use of his given name and following suit by using hers. Perhaps it was his imagination but he could have sworn the little half smile on her face had appeared after his use of her name. "Meet me outside on the terrace," he urged softly.

She hesitated. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, Malfoy".

He felt a pang at her return to his surname. He leaned down and whispered seductively in her ear. "Say yes, Hermione".

What will she say? Nothing if you don't review. I'll just end the story here.