I do not own any of the HP characters and am making no money by writing this fanfiction.
"You know, Harry, I love when Snape brings Hermione to these kinds of events," Ron said to Harry as they stood by the liquor table. "I get her practically the entire night. Iím about to make my move when the right music comes on."
Harry just shook his head.
Hermione was seated with her husband, Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy and his wife. They were attending the yearly celebration of Voldemortís death. The events were always gay and festive with lots of dancing. There were a few waltzes, but mostly more modern music and a few golden tunes from the disco age.
Ron had never really gotten over Hermione marrying Snape, and the highlight of the year for him was getting the witch out on the dance floor and tripping the light fantastic to music that Snape would never dance to. He would tease Hermione, saying that there were some drawbacks to marrying an old man. Heíd dance with her several times a night as Snape sat there, impotently, watching them.
"This just isnít his kind of music. He can waltz and tango as you know, Ron," Hermione would say in Snapeís defense as Ron bobbed and danced around her, smiling.
"Yeah, but can he shake a booty?" Ron would reply.
Hermione never once asked her husband to join her on the dance floor with all the gyrating younger witches and wizards. But age had little to do with it. Lucius and Narcissa would get out there right with everyone else. In fact, plenty of people Snapeís age danced. It was more of a matter of reserve than ability. Snape would never dance in such a manner.
Instead, he would watch his wife dancing, and was aware Ron monopolized a lot of her dance floor time. This had been going on for four years now. From time to time, Ron would look at him and give him a knowing smile. Snape would bristle, but do nothing. He couldnít very well hex the wizard for dancing with his wife, when he wouldnít.
Once again, Ron came over and asked Hermione to dance. As usual, she agreed. She loved to dance after all, even if her husband didnít go for this kind of music. Snape watched them go and subsequently, watched them dance.
Lucius was seated next to Severus, watching Ron dance with Hermione and noting the tightness in the Potions masterís jaw.
"I say, Severus, every year Mr. Weasley commandeers your wife on the dance floor as if she belongs to him. I imagine being outclassed by a Weasley isnít the high point of your night," Lucius said to him, his gray eyes mirthful.
"You know, in some cultures, the way a man dances is considered a testament to his physical and sexual prowess. Women are aroused by a man who dances. Look at your wife, how flushed she is. For the moment, Mr. Weasley is in control of your woman. Narcissa dances as well, but when I see someone truly catching her eye, I cut in and remind her who I am."
"Hermione knows who I am," Snape said in an irritated voice, taking a sip of his Firewhisky and watching Ron dancing uncomfortably close to Hermione, gyrating his loins.
"Yes, but does Mr. Weasley know? He is challenging you, Severus. Year after year, his youth and virility pitted against yours."
Snapeís face contorted.
"Mr. Weasley canít hold a torch to me, Lucius. Hermione knows that. No man can take her where I can."
"Maybe not in the marriage bed, Severus, but out of it . . . thatís another story altogether. Look how smug Mr. Weasley looks when he glances over here at you, dancing behind your wife, shaking his goods inches from her bum. You may have her, but he is encroaching on your territory. And itís perfectly acceptable socially, but I have to ask you, is it perfectly acceptable to you seeing your wife enjoying such proximity with another man?"
Snape said nothing, but his nostrils flared.
"Youíve got to re-establish who you are, Severus. Allow no man to best you in anything when it comes to your woman, or you could lose her. Your wife is young, attractive and enjoys dancing to music other than waltzes and tangoes. You need to step up, old man. Make the most of your talents. Show Mr. Weasley that he has nothing on you."
Lucius was bored and playing devilís advocate, hoping to spark some excitement. If anything, heíd get a good laugh at Snape trying to keep up with the others. Narcissa listened with a thin smile. Lucius was such a conniving bastard sometimes.
The music died away, and another song came on. An old disco song called, "Got to Give It Up." It had a thumping sexy beat. Ron and Hermione clapped and hooted as did the others before they started dancing again.
Hermione was snapping her fingers and shaking her hips, when she saw that Ron had stopped dancing and was looking over her shoulder in amazement. She turned to see Severus standing behind her, looking sober.
"Severus? What is it?" she asked her husband.
"I was wondering if I might have this dance," he replied as Hermioneís eyes widened.
"To this?" she asked him incredulously.
Snape nodded as Ron grinned delightedly. This would be humiliating and Hermione would see just how out of touch her husband really was.
"Go right ahead," Ron said, backing away.
In fact, a lot of people were looking at Snape as he stood facing his wife. Hermione blinked up at him. He was so stiff. She began to dance, hesitatingly. Snape caught her hand.
"I dance a bit differently," he said softly, then began to spin her, walking around the witch, then pulling her in and spinning her outward, his steps in perfect time with the music as they began to Hustle, Hermione followed his lead, her smile growing broader and broader as those around them formed a circle, watching the perfectly executed and distinguished moves of Severus Snape.
No, he couldnít "shake a booty" but he had a style all his own that had other witches swooning. He released Hermione, who danced as he strode around her, his black eyes locked to hers as she did her thing, then he grabbed her hand and pulled her into him, leaning her back in a slow, sensuous, body to body dip, looking as if he wanted to absolutely devour her. He straightened and whirled her around the circle, tango-style.
People were clapping their hands and cheering as Severus Snape did his thing, whirling, dipping and even lifting his wife in the air, a true master of the dance.
Ron watched him, fuming. Compared to the wizardís smooth moves, he might as well be an ape bouncing about on the dance floor. Damn it!
"Heís only waltzing faster," he hissed at Harry, who was watching the Potions master with a broad smile on his face.
"Thatís more than waltzing, Ron," Harry said as Snape leaned back, Hermione flushed and breathless against his body. "Heís great."
The music came to a close and Snape twirled Hermione about deftly, ending the dance with bow and kissing her hand tenderly as she smiled at him breathlessly. Applause rang out from all sides as Ron sullenly walked over to the liquor table. There was no way he could outdo that performance.
Snape led his flushed wife back to the table, where Lucius applauded him.
"Well done, Snape. It seems thereís a new disco king in town."
Snape smirked and was about to reply when several witches walked up to their table.
"Um, Mr. Snape, we were wondering if we could have a dance with you later, after youíve rested a bit. You dance wonderfully."
Snape looked at the women, then at Hermione, who was scowling slightly.
"Youíll have to ask my wifeís permission," he told them.
Hermione blinked at him, then looked at the witches.
"No," she said pointedly.
Disappointed, the witches walked away, muttering how selfish Hermione was. She didnít look at Snape, but could feel his eyes on her and his mirth. He opened his mouth to say something about her dancing with Ron for the past four years and how turnabout would be fair play when she held up her hand, palm out and said, "Donít. Just donít, Severus."
He gave her a tight smile and took a sip of his Firewhisky, very smug and very satisfied. He wouldnít be tripping the light fantastic with other witches as long as Hermione was about. She wasnít about make the same mistake he did.
After that night, Ron barely had a chance to dance with Hermione more than twice at any function. Her talented husband, Severus Snape, monopolized almost all of her time as they happily danced the night away, well matched and in perfect tangent, the envy of all who saw them.
Lyrics: Got to Give It Up ~ Marvin Gaye
I used to go out to parties and stand around
'Cause I was too nervous to really get down
But my body yearned to be free
I got up on the floor, boy
so somebody could choose me.
No more standin' there beside the walls
I have got myself together, baby
I'm havin' a ball
Long as you're groovin'
There's always a chance
Somebody watchin' might wanna make romance
Move your body, ooo baby,
And dance all night
Do that groovingí
Feel all right
Everybody's groovin' on like a fool
But if you see me spread out and let me in
Baby just party high and low
Let me step into your erotic zone
Move it up
Turn it down
Shake it down
You can love me when you want to babe
This is such a groovy party baby
We're here face to face
This is such a groovy place
All the young ladies are so fine!
You're movin your body easy with no doubt
Know what you thinkin' baby
You want to turn me out
Think I'm gonna let you do it babe
Keep on dancin'
You got to get it
Got to give it up
* * *
A/N: This song came on in the car when I was driving home from the store and I thought "Snape would never dance to something like this unless he was forced to." Soooo, lol. I wrote this little one-shot. Thanks for reading.