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Chapter Text

Six months. That’s how long it had been since the end of the war. When Harry had defeated Voldemort, a name that no one no longer feared to speak, Hermione Granger felt a rush of emotions. Relief, happiness, frustration, anger, sadness, grief, but most importantly, she felt love. Love for those that she and many others had lost. Love for those that had survived. Love for her parents that she had obliviated and sent to Australia. Love for Dumbledore for believing in her and her friends. Love for Harry Potter, her best friend who had lost so much while fighting the biggest fight anyone could ever imagine. And love for Ronald Weasley, who had finally plucked up the courage to kiss her and admit his feelings for her in the midst of the darkest day in the last decade.

Hermione’s heart had soared when his lips pressed against hers, and she had never felt more alive than she did in that moment. But the feeling didn’t last.

The first few weeks were hard on all of them. Funerals were held and loved ones were buried. Fred’s was the hardest funeral to attend, and Hermione swore that she had noticed Draco Malfoy standing under some trees watching the proceedings that day, but when she blinked, he was gone and she thought it was her imagination playing tricks on her. After all, it wouldn’t have been the first time. The remaining Death Eaters were caught and thrown into a holding cell to await their trials at The Wizengamot, but Ron was still distant. But Hermione had hope that one day soon things would get better… they had to, she was sure of it.

Another month passed and the Death Eaters’ trials had begun, and things were only getting worse for the two of them. Ron and Hermione had just moved into an apartment together which should’ve been a joyous time, but instead Hermione was feeling more and more like a burden every day. Ron would lock himself in their study for hours on end until he saw the bottom of at least two bottles of cheap firewhiskey.

Hermione’s heart was breaking at the sight of her first love circling the drain, and she tried her hardest to be there for him, but it was never enough. She bought fancy lingerie that she definitely couldn’t afford to try and spice things up in the bedroom, and perhaps evoke some kind of happier emotion from her other half, but it was no use. Ron barely even acknowledged her as she laid in their bed, and simply slipped underneath the covers and turned off his bedside lamp.

Hermione was running out of options, and so she owled Harry and arranged for the three of them to get together for lunch, thinking that surely that would cheer Ron up. But she was wrong.

“Come on Ron! We’re going to be late!” Hermione rushed around the apartment as she checked to make sure that all of her muggle appliances were turned off, and that nothing was laying around that should be put away. She brushed the creases out of their orange couch and straightened the decorative cushions, turned each bottle of alcohol that was on display so that their labels were facing front on, and grabbed her wand just as Ron trudged down the stairs, a solemn look on his face.

“Ready?” She asked him with a cheery smile, and could only just make out the mumble of a yes before she apparated them to the cafe where they were to meet Harry.

She had barely seen her best friend since the end of the war as he had been so busy training for the Auror’s at The Ministry, and she was so looking forward to hearing all about what he and Ginny had been up to since she saw them last.

They approached the cafe host and gave her name, and they were then ushered towards a table beside a beautiful fountain and that provided them shade from the bright sun that carried no warmth whatsoever. As Ron and Hermione sat down beside each other, their waiter levitated a bottle of cool water over to their table and filled each of their glasses before setting out three menus. Hermione turned to Ron, about to ask him what he fancied to eat, when a voice she knew like the back of her hand rang out from behind her.

“Mione! Ron!” Hermione stood and fell into the open arms of Harry who squeezed her in a tight embrace before letting her go and giving Ron a more masculine version of a hug before taking his seat opposite the two.

“How’ve you been mate?” Hermione nearly jumped at the clear sound of Ron’s voice from beside her, it was something so unusual and foreign to her.

“Oh, I’ve been fantastic! Auror training is going really well! And Ginny is having the time of her life with her Quidditch!” Hermione could only smile fondly as Harry told them all about what he had been up to as of late, and for a moment it was as if everything was as it should have been… but only for a moment.

“But enough about me! What about you two?” Harry looked to Ron. “Mione tells me you’ve been struggling recently Ron, what’s going on?”

Ron’s head snapped towards Hermione, and his eyes held nothing but angry storms as he looked at his girlfriend with more hatred and anger than Hermione could ever have thought was possible, and for once she was at a loss for words, and it seemed the same could be said for Harry as he stared in disbelief at the exchange occurring in front of him.

“She did, did she?” Ron’s voice raised an octave or two and he threw his hands in the air. “What exactly did you tell him, Hermione?

“I-” Hermione’s voice broke, and Ron took that opportunity to continue.

“Did you tell him that ever since the war ended you have been constantly at me to pay you attention? Did you tell him that you bought some ridiculous outfit to try and get me to fuck you when I clearly don’t want to? Did you tell him all of that Hermione ?” He said her name with such venom that had Hermione shrinking down into her seat, not avoiding anyone’s eyes.

“ Ron !” She heard Harry say.

“No Harry! I’ve had enough of her constantly looking at me like I’m not good enough for her, when really she’s the one that’s not good enough for me! ” Hermione’s lip quivered and Ron grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him with tears in her eyes. “You hear that, Hermione? You aren’t good enough for me . And quit the fucking crying, it’s pathetic!”

Deep down, Hermione knew that this would happen. When things between her and Ron didn’t get better after a couple of months, she knew that they never would, but that didn’t stop her from having hope. But sitting there, listening to the words leaving Ron’s lips was shattering every, last sliver of hope she had. He was tearing her apart and making her feel worthless.

As Hermione took a breath and re-focused on what was happening in front of her, she saw Harry waving his finger at Ron, and Ron yelling back at him. She looked around at the other patrons in the cafe and noticed that they were all staring, and so she quickly interrupted the heated exchange between the two boys.

“Harry, stop. Please both of you, just stop .” 

“Mione-”

She raised her left hand and placed it on the side of his face, and memorised every detail about him that she could before turning to Ron.

“I can’t believe you said those things to me Ronald-” Ron’s face was bright red and he began to open his mouth to undoubtedly say something else to shatter Hermione’s heart further, but she stopped him by quickly holding up her hand. “Don’t say anything else. It’s very clear that you’re not happy with me, and so I’ll make the decision that is obviously too difficult for you to make on your own.” She took a deep breath and the person she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with. “We’re over Ronald. I’ll clear my things out of the apartment now.”

Hermione stood up and quickly hugged Harry. “I’m sorry, this was not how I envisioned our catch up to go.” She said before turning her back on them and walking away without a second glance.

~*~

As soon as Hermione had left the cafe, she apparated straight to her- to Ron’s apartment and quickly began packing up her belongings.

She produced an extension charm on her suitcase and filled it with feminine products, linen, clothing and her muggle inventions before closing the latch and taking a final look around the apartment. She knew that if she were to forget anything, she could dismiss the idea of ever seeing it again.

Up until this point, Hermione had kept her composure and not let her guard down, but as she looked at the pictures of memories that she and Ron had shared, and the furniture she had spent hours picking out and rearranging, a dam burst within her and she slid down the ivory wall beside the door, dropping her head onto her knees as she brought them up to her chest, and she cried.

Her shoulders shook while she sobbed, and all she could think was ‘ Why me? ’. She had gone through hell and back growing up as she tried to convince the Wizarding World that she belonged there despite the prejudiced beliefs regarding her blood and heritage. She had fought alongside her two best friends for seven years to protect themselves and their loved ones. She obliviated all memories of her existence from her parents' minds and sent them away to Australia in order to keep them safe. She had spent nine months on the run hiding from Voldemort and his Death Eaters while her friends endured pain and suffering in her absence. She had been tortured at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange and still had the scar on her left forearm to prove it. She watched her professors, peers and friends die in front of her eyes. 

She had been through so much in her 19 years, and now she had lost one of the only people she had left. 

After crying until there was nothing left inside of her, Hermione shakingly stood up and gripped the handle of her suitcase tightly before dropping her key on the  kitchen counter and closing the door behind her, listening to the lock click for the last time.

She walked out onto the street and as she mindlessly wandered for a minute or two, she suddenly realised that she had nowhere to go. She couldn’t go to any of her friends for comfort, because they were also friends with Ronald, and she didn’t want to put them in an uncomfortable situation where they had to choose a side. Ronald may be okay with doing that, but she wasn’t.

If only she had a place that she could go to escape, a place that no one else would care to look for her. If only her parents were here to-

Her parents. 

Hermione’s family home had been demolished in the war, making it clear that obliviating her parents’ memories was indeed the correct decision. However, they had a small apartment in the heart of muggle London that they had lived in before giving birth to her, and she remembered them saying that they had couldn’t bring themselves to sell it, and so Hermione wondered if it was still there, and still under ownership of Wendell and Monica Wilkins.

The longer Hermione thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. The root of all of her problems had started in the Wizarding World, and over the years she had lost touch with her muggle roots. If she simply disappeared and reinserted herself in the muggle world, maybe that would solve all, or at least most, of her problems. She wouldn’t have to worry about her friends choosing sides between herself and Ronald, and she most definitely wouldn’t have to see her now ex-boyfriend, and that was most appealing to her. 

She could think of it as an extended vacation with an unknown end date. She could reinvent herself amongst the muggles, and return to the Wizarding World with a clear head after the dust had settled.

Yes, that was exactly what she would do. But first, she had to know whether she still had access to the apartment, and so with a flick of her wand, she apparated to an alley behind the apartment block on Park Street, ensuring that she wasn’t seen appearing out of thin air.

She breathed in the familiar scent of London as she approached the front door of the building and pushed through the extravagant double doors and walked up to the reception desk.

“Good evening,” Hermione greeted the desk clerk who looked up at her through his spectacles. They reminded her of the ones McGonagall wore, and the thought made her smile briefly. “I was hoping that you might have a spare key for my apartment? It’s in my parent’s name, but they have moved to Australia, and have given me permission to stay in their apartment.”

Hermione was well aware that the desk clerk didn’t believe her, and so she quickly continued. “They gave me their key but I misplaced it on the way here. I can provide identification!” She reached inside of her bag and wrapped her hand around her wand out of habit, but stopped herself before pulling it out in front of the short, chubby man in front of her and making a huge mistake. She dropped the wand and instead located her photo identification that she provided to the man whose name she noticed was Geoffrey, and he examined the plastic card before typing away at his computer.

“Miss Hermione Jean Granger. I take it your parents are Mr and Mrs Wilkins?” Geoffrey asked, and Hermione quickly nodded her head.

“Yes, that’s them! Monica and Wendell Wilkins!” 

Geoffrey appraised her for a moment before excusing himself and entering a locked room, emerging a moment later with a small, silver key with a green plastic head labelled ‘ Apt. No. 607’ and he produced a form that Hermione quickly signed before he handed the key to her.

“Level 6 and apartment number 607.” Hermione grabbed her suitcase and thanked him profusely before rushing inside the elevator and hitting the button for Level 6 . 

The elevator shot upwards, leaving Hermione only a little lightheaded, nothing compared to the elevator at The Ministry, and excited once the doors slid open to her level. As she scanned the doors looking for Apartment 607, she thought about all the possible reasons as to why her parents had never sold this apartment.

They bought the apartment nearly 25 years ago, and so the value of property back then was considerably lower than it is now. The apartment was located on one of the wealthiest streets in muggle London, and Hermione had no doubt in her mind that her parents would have received quite the price for the unit. But in many ways she was thankful that they didn’t ever sell it, because if they had, she wouldn’t have had anywhere to go after leaving Ronald.

Once she found 607 , she placed the key inside the lock and gave it a turn, and pushed the door open to reveal the most beautiful apartment she had ever seen. She stepped into a stunning entry with a marble bar to her left where she placed the key. Directly in front of her was what she assumed to be the main area of the apartment and took in the sight of an open plan living room with a gorgeous kitchen to the left with marble bench tops, and a huge window overlooking the city, and Hermione took in the breathtaking view that was Hyde Park. 

She dropped her suitcase and inspected the quaint furnishings and decor, and wasn’t at all surprised by any of it. Every item that she laid her eyes upon reminded her of her mother, and she pictured Monica fussing over the placement of the decorative cushions and throw rug that was carefully draped over the arm of the pale blue couch. 

Hermione dragged her feet into the bedroom, and once again was left speechless at the huge, comfy looking bed and adjoined bathroom. It appeared that the apartment had been kept in pristine condition, and Hermione concluded that there must be cleaners that have maintained it throughout the years. 

She laid back into the soft mattress of the bed, and her eyes fluttered as she sunk down into it. It felt like she was floating on a cloud, and she knew right then and there that she had made the right decision coming here. This bed was so much more comfortable than the one she had shared with Ronald back in the Wizarding World.

As Hermione laid there, she watched the sun set over the horizon through the window of the bedroom, and reality soon slowly began to set in. She had made it to London, she had found more than suitable accommodation, and now it was time for the next step.

She had to find herself a job.

~*~

Hermione spent the next few days walking the streets of London, searching for a casual job, at least until she had some money behind her, and then she could look for something a little bit more permanent if that’s what she decided. 

She had been in and out of at least fifty or more stores in the past 72 hours, and she was no closer to finding a stable source of income. Yes, she had the apartment that she didn’t have to pay for, but there was groceries that needed to be bought, basic household expenses that she would be billed for eventually, and she needed to prepare for that.

It was very unlike Hermione to not have a set plan before she jumped into making any decisions, but deep down she had known for a while that her relationship with Ronald was not going to last, but she still put her all into it, knowing that her efforts would most likely be for nothing.

The sun had well and truly set by the time she had made the decision to head back to the apartment. She would get up bright and early tomorrow morning to go back out into the city and continue searching for a job. 

Hermione weaved her way through the flocks of people that congregated in the streets of Strand as she made her way to the nearest taxi rank, and lifted her nose in the air and breathed in the scent of a delicious variety of cuisines, and her stomach grumbled. She had only had a few slices of toast for breakfast and had picked up a sandwich ‘to-go’ while walking the streets of London, and so she decided to stop at a fast food restaurant just to help take the edge off her growing hunger. 

Just as she reached to grasp the handle, she heard an alluring composition of music streaming from a small, brightly lit doorway to her left. All thoughts of a meal pushed to the back of her mind, Hermione let her feet move of their accord as she made her way down a dimly lit stairwell before stepping out into what appeared to be a very lavish muggle club. 

There were round tables scattered throughout the entire floor, with five or six chairs to each. From what Hermione could see, the majority of those chairs were filled with excited patrons holding tall glasses of what she assumed to be alcohol in their hands. There was a long bar at the opposite side of the club with five bar staff pouring drinks and placing them on the black bench tops, where one of the beautiful, young waitresses would collect them and serve them to the paying customer. 

Hermione felt herself being drawn further and further into the club, until she was stopped by a strange looking gentleman with small, round glasses who demanded that she pay the entry fee of £10, and not wanting to leave just yet, she dug her hand into her purse and presented the doorman with the flimsy note. Once the money was in his hand and the transaction complete, he plastered a smile on his face and directed her to find a seat and to “enjoy the show”.

Hermione made her way to the bar just as the lights went out, and her attention was pulled to the stage at the front of the club where a group of six women were positioned. Half of them wore tight, black shorts that barely covered their backsides paired with a lace corset and black top hat. The other half were dressed in a sparkling, white one-piece with a kind of sailor cap, Hermione noticed. They all wore matching thigh-high black and white striped stockings and black pump heels. 

Hermione was mesmerised as she watched them move slowly in time with the music, and a seventh woman entered the stage. She was tall and had black, wild hair that was styled similar to how hers had been in her earlier years of Hogwarts. She wore a dazzling one-piece that surely couldn’t have been comfortable, with black fishnet stockings and an equally dazzling coat.

She stood in the centre of the six girls who had slowly made their way to the floor of the stage, and then the tall woman began to sing.

“Show a little more

Show a little less

Add a little smoke

Welcome to Burlesque”

Hermione was completely in awe of the women that danced on that stage. They moved so perfectly together and every step was in time to the music. Not to mention the beautifully unique voice of the taller woman that kept in the centre of the dancers at all times.

“You can dream of Coco

Do it at your risk

The triplets grant you mercy

But not your every wish”

“Fantastic, aren’t they?” Hermione spun around at the close proximity of a voice from behind her and came face to face with one of the men behind the bar. He had dark eyeliner around his eyes and a black vest and top hat. Hermione flashed him a quick, friendly smile before turning her attention back to the stage where at least six more women in black and red had joined.

“Show a little more

Show a little less

Add a little smoke

Welcome to Burlesque!”

The lights went out, and Hermione could see the girls’ silhouettes as they rushed off the stage presumably to change costumes for their next performance.

Hermione didn’t care what she would have to do, or who she would have to do, but one thing she knew for certain. She was going to dance on that stage, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

She turned quickly back to the gentleman at the bar who was still watching her with a smile on his face.

“What kind of dancing is that?” Hermione asked.

“That, my dear, is Burlesque. A lot of people think of it as similar to strip dancing, but it’s completely different.” The man poured her a fruity drink while he explained. “Yes, it is provocative, and yes, occasionally there’ll be a striptease or two, but Burlesque is considered to be quite a classy dance.”

The music started again and Hermione’s head turned back to the stage just as the girls started their next routine, which was just as mesmerising and brilliant as the one she had just witnessed.

“So, what does a girl have to do to get from here,” she motioned to where she was standing “to there?” She pointed to the stage where the girls were swaying their hips sensually to the beat in their short, golden dresses.

“See those stairs?” Hermione nodded as she looked in the direction his index finger was pointing, “Head up them and ask for Tess. She’s your guy.” 

“Thank you! Very much!” She hurried across the room, nearly tripping over her feet in her excitement. She climbed each step with an equal amount of enthusiasm and found herself amongst a stunning group of young women. Some of them were sitting in front of mirrors touching up their flawless makeup, others were gossiping in the corner of the room, and a few girls flitted past her with a magnificent outfit in their hands.

“Ladies! That was fantastic!” The tall woman from before addressed the girls before heading to her office, with Hermione hot on her heels.

“Excuse me? Tess?” She knocked on the doors and the woman turned, appraising her front head to toe.

“Depends on who’s asking.” The woman cocked an eyebrow and sat in the chair behind her desk.

“My name’s Hermione Wilkins. I’m sorry to just barge in like this, but I just witnessed your show, and it was so beautiful-”Hermione didn’t know what made her change her surname, maybe it was the thought of a fresh start, but whatever it was, she was glad she did.

“Thank you, darling.” Tess interrupted her, and Hermione quickly cleared her throat before continuing.

“I was wondering if you had room for another dancer?” She spoke so quickly that the words jumbled into one, and for a moment Hermione thought that Tess hadn’t understood her, Merlin knows she barely even knew what she had said. But then Tess sighed deeply before standing back up and making her way over to where Hermione stood, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“As much as I love your enthusiasm, and by God could some of those girls out there learn a thing or two from you in that regard,” she used her index finger to tilt Hermione’s head upwards so that she was looking directly into Tess’ eyes “but I don’t have any room for another dancer right now.”

Hermione’s shoulders slumped, and she tried to hide her disappointment, but Tess spoke again, igniting a tiny flicker of hope back into the young witch.

“However, we can always use a waitress, and you are more than welcome to learn the routines just in case one of the girls happens to fall ill one day.”

A smile lit up Hermione’s face and she quickly embraced Tess in a hug before pulling back. “Yes! Thank you, Tess! I won’t disappoint you, I swear!”

“I believe you, Hermione. Now, go and see Jack behind the bar. I’m sure you have already met him, as there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the one that sent you to me.” Tess dismissed Hermione and she quickly made her way back down the stairs and towards the barman she had spoken to earlier.

“Learn the routines” Tess had said, and if there was anything that Hermione was good at, it was learning and studying. And so that night, she went back to her appointment and sat at the laptop that her parents had left here and began typing.

Chapter Text

For the next couple of days, Hermione spent every waking second studying Burlesque, she had even made her way to the library and found herself lost in the scent of books. She read about the history of the dance, as well as how it had evolved and developed over the years. She researched the costumes, the dances, and practiced the routines until she fell backwards onto her bed in exhaustion and sleep took over.

With each shift she worked, she danced around the tables in time with the music, and sometimes she even danced along with the girls on the stage from beside the bar. She so badly wanted to be up there with them, but she had to be patient. Her parents had taught her a lot in the time she’d had with them, but one of the most valuable lessons she took from her mother was ingrained in her mind.

Good things will always come to those who wait .

And so she waited. Every night she watched the girls dance while she served drinks to the paying customers, and on more than one occasion, caught the eye of Tess while she swayed her hips to the beat. 

Hermione had become quite familiar with the dancers, one in particular she’d grown quite close to. Georgia invited her back to her apartment one night after witnessing Hermione and her “wannabe” dancing, and had offered to teach her some of the routines personally, and of course Hermione jumped all over that idea. 

They practiced together in both of their apartments, and even gained special permission from Tess to use the club during the day once a week. 

Hermione had noticed herself becoming better at the dances every day, and so had Georgia. The redhead, who often reminded her of Ginny with the things she would say, applauded Hermione’s efforts and often referred to herself as “Hermione’s Number One Fan”, and in many ways, she was.

“Drinks, ladies?” Hermione placed a tray of shots on the counter and smiled as the girls swarmed to her like birds, downing their drinks without so much as a grimace.

“Which of these is Nikki’s?” Hermione turned as Tess approached her from the costume room, and motioned between the last two glasses on the tray.

“Both of them, I guess. Unless you-”

“Oh no, that won’t be happening.” Tess picked up both of the drinks, tipping them down her throat just as Nikki walked up to them.

“ Hey! They were for me!” Nikki’s shrill voice rang out above the chatter in the dressing room, and Tess simply shook her head, and told her to enjoy disappointment before heading back to the costumes.

Hermione had been thinking a lot recently, especially in regards to the vocals. She had thought back to the night she first walked into the club, and the goosebumps she had gotten when hearing Tess sing live, and so she wondered if maybe the girls could incorporate live singing into their routines as well. It would completely change the entire image of the club. From what Hermione had witnessed in the past month that she had worked there, the numbers of people that paid to watch the show was decreasing. The club was still busy, and there were still a lot of patrons in seats, but each week there was noticeably less and less people walking through the doors.

“ Um , Tess? Can I have a minute?” Hermione tentatively approached her boss.

“Hermione, you know that any other time I would love to chat, but I really need to get these vocals sorted out-”

“Yes, absolutely but you see, that’s what I was hoping to talk to you about!” She began to explain how amazing the experience was when she first came to the club and saw the dancing, and that a big part of that was the live singing from Tess. She suggested that maybe the girls could incorporate some of their own live singing, and that that would most definitely bring more people to the club, but Tess didn’t want to hear it.

“Honey, I know that you can’t help the ideas that pop into that beautiful mind of yours,” Tess grabbed her face and dug her fingers softly into Hermione’s curls, as if to emphasise her point “but people don’t come to hear the girls sing, they come to see them dance. Uh uh! That’s just the way it is.” Tess silenced her by holding her palm up in the air, and turned Hermione before giving her a slight push in the opposite direction.

Hermione slunked back to the empty tray she had delivered full of shots earlier, and slowly began to make her way down the stairs towards the bar. She tried to hide her disappointment as she heard Tess yelling at the girls, “Where did Nikki go?”

She passed the bathrooms before she took her first step onto the rickety staircase, and almost barrelled into Nikki as she stumbled through the door. Hermione grabbed the sides of Nikki’s arms to steady her, and in doing so was able to take in the state of the woman swaying in front of her.

Nikki’s eyes were completely bloodshot, and her pupils dilated so that the colour of her eyes almost appeared black. She was swaying on her feet, clearly not able to stand on her own, and her hands were shaking as she scratched at her arm. 

“Nikki? What’s wrong with you? Tess is looking for you.” Hermione began to lead her back to the change room with the other girls, but Nikki seemed to have enough strength to pull back as she shook her head.

“No! No!” Nikki tried to wrestle herself out of Hermione’s grip, but she held onto her with as much strength as she could muster. Whilst the methods were different in the Wizarding and Muggle worlds, there was not a doubt in Hermione’s mind that Nikki was high. 

“Okay, okay, we won’t go in there. Just...lean against this wall for me okay?” Nikki looked visibly relieved and slumped against the wall like she was told, and Hermione looked around wondering what on earth she was going to do with her now. Nikki was supposed to be getting changed and was due to be on stage in less than ten minutes with Georgia and the other girls.

“Mione?” Hermione’s head whipped around at the sound of Georgia’s voice, and she quickly ushered her over. Georgia took one look at Nikki and dropped her head in her hands, cussing to herself before she lifted her gaze back to the girls in front of her.

“What happened? Where did you find her?” Georgia asked, her green eyes crinkled at the corners with worry.

“She stumbled out of the bathroom as I was about to head back downstairs.” Hermione quickly reached out to stabilise Nikki as she began to slip down the wall, and Georgia made a move at the same time. Together they both held an almost incoherent Nikki up, and slowly began to lead her to the change rooms.

“She’s got a show in five minutes Georg, what-”

“I know, I know. Let’s just go see Tess.” Together they dragged Nikki across the floor, ignoring the gasps and whispers from the other girls before pushing their way through the doors to Tess’ office.

The look on Tess’ face wasn’t one of shock or surprise, much to Hermione’s confusion. Instead, it was as if she knew, she expected this to happen, and it made Hermione wonder about how many times it's happened in the past.

“Tess, Hermione found her like this in the bathroom, she has to be on stage now.” Georgia explained the situation, and Tess listened, only nodding a few times as she took in what Georgia was saying.

After a moment, she stood up with her index fingers pressed against her temples. “There’s no one else who can take Nikki’s place. No one else knows her routine well enough so-”

“I do.” Hermione hadn’t even realised that she spoke aloud until she noticed Tess and Georgia both staring at her, and she swallowed thickly before she spoke again. “I-I know her routine. Georgia and I have been practicing it for a month now.”

“She’s not lying, Tess.” Georgia turned away from Hermione briefly, “She’s really quite good too. And she’s about the same size as Nikki wouldn’t you say? She could easily fit into the outfit.” Two pairs of eyes roamed Hermione’s body, and she shifted her feet uncomfortably at the sudden scrutiny she found herself under.

There was silence, and Georgia filled the void with her sweet voice. “Tess, you have to make the decision now, otherwise the entire show will be late.”

Hermione didn’t dare to hope, because after all, where had that ever gotten her? But she desperately wished for the words to leave Tess’ mouth, the words that she’s been wanting to hear ever since she stepped foot into the club just over a month ago. 

The silence felt like it dragged, and suddenly Tess lifted her head a little higher, the movement causing Hermione and Georgia both to startle slightly, and then she spoke. “You’re on, Wilkins.”

~*~

Hermione had never changed outfits so quickly in her life. She tore off her waitressing uniform and stripped down before sliding her little body into a tight one-piece that was made up mostly of a see-through material with a black lace pattern covering up the important areas. After all, this wasn’t that kind of club.

Georgia helped her touch up her makeup and hair as much as they could with the time that they had, and Hermione felt the nerves rippling through her as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, a reflection she didn’t recognise.

“Hey,” Hermione felt a tiny hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face Georgia who was looking at her with the expression of a proud mother. “-you’ve got this. You know the dance, it’s just like we practiced okay?”

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded as Georgia led her to the stage and she took her place behind the curtain. She sat herself on the edge of a grand piano, crossed her legs and leant back on her hands.

Hermione didn’t have much in the way of assets , but the tight outfit she was wearing did wonders for her, and she pushed her chest out a little more than necessary to accentuate her breasts. She took a deep breath, and then the familiar music sounded throughout the venue as the curtain was raised and the spotlight was on her.

I got a dentist

Whose over seven feet tall

Hermione leaned forward and shimmied her chest before resting her chin on top of a curled fist as she mouthed the lyrics, and the routine came as easily to her as if she had been doing it for years.

Oh, I’ve got a dentist, baby

The man is over seven feet tall

His name is Doctor Long John

And he answers every call

She circled her hips in the air when necessary, and ran her delicate fingers along the back of her thigh and rested her hand on her backside. She switched positions quickly and ran her hands down her chest in a provocative motion before the music tempo changed and she slowly stood up, moving her hips to the beat as she made her way across the stage.

Her backup dancers supported her effortlessly, and they complemented one another’s moves easily. Hermione swayed her hips and dropped low when the routine called for it, and the laughter and cheers from the audience spurred her along and gave her a hit of adrenaline that electrified every nerve in her body.

He took out his trusty drill

Told me to open wide

He said he wouldn’t hurt me

But he filled my whole inside

Only when Hermione mouthed the lyrics did she realise how sexual the song was, and instead of making her blush, she felt strangely excited. Back in the Wizarding world, she never would’ve been caught dead singing and dancing to a song like this, let alone be working in a Burlesque club. Although when Hermione thought about it, she didn’t believe that a club like this actually existed back home.

Boy were they missing out.

She seductively climbed onto a black, leather dental chair and tried not to think about the personal connection she has to two particular dentists as she rolled her body in time with the music, causing a few whistles to sound from the audience.

Yeah, when he got done drillin’, he said

‘Baby, that’s gonna cost you ten

But if it ever starts in to throbbing,

Hermione pulled herself up onto her knees and stretched her torso out as she raised her arms in the air, swinging them from side to side as the finale approached.

Come back and see old Long John

Again and again and again and again and again!

The lights went out, and she climbed down from the chair that the girls had spun her around on and made her way backstage where she was ambushed by the other girls. They congratulated her and told her how amazing she had done, and Hermione felt, for the first time in a very long time, truly happy.

“Hermione!”

She whipped around just as Tess approached her with a hard-to-read expression on her face, and immediately she began to doubt herself. Did she mess up a step? She didn’t think she had. The dance had come so easily to her as it was the first one Georgia had taught her. Speaking of Georgia, Hermione noticed her standing behind Tess, hunched over, and she thought that she caught sight of mascara streaking down her face, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Come with me.” Tess ordered, and Hermione shyly followed her and Georgia to Tess’ office, where they were both asked to take a seat.

“Hermione, tonight-”

“I’m so sorry Tess!” Hermione interrupted her boss without a moment of hesitation and scrambled to redeem herself, believing that the reason she had been called into the office was because she had completely ruined the dance tonight. “I really thought I knew all the steps! I was so confident! In fact, I was so confident that I’d be willing to put my entire life on the line. I’m so, so sorry! I don’t know what-”

“Hermione-”

“-happened, I must have been nervous, I don’t know. I’ve never done something like that before, let alone in front of an audience! And I-”

“Hermione!” Tess shouted to get Hermione’s attention, and it worked. She stopped talking immediately, her mouth snapping shut as she looked between Georgia - who had been unusually quiet this evening - and Tess. “Hermione, I’m not here to tell you that you ruined the routine tonight. You actually did the complete opposite.”

Hermione leaned back in her seat as she narrowed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. “Then, why…?” Her voice trailed off and Tess asked Georgia to explain the situation.

As Hermione looked at her friend, really looked at her, she noticed a few things about her that she hadn’t earlier. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, almost as if she had been crying. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was disheveled. Hermione also noticed the tear stains on her cheeks, confirming her previous thoughts that she’d been upset tonight, and she quickly reached out to grasp Georgia’s hand in her own. Her skin was burning hot.

“Georg, what’s going on?” Hermione asked, and she watched as her friend took a deep breath before looking up and meeting her eyes.

“I’m pregnant.” Hermione’s eyes widened in their sockets at the sudden confession. That was definitely not what she had been expecting to hear this evening. 

“That’s… wonderful! Congratulations!” Hermione stood up and rushed over to wrap her arms around the redhead, but slowly pulled away when she realised that she wasn’t being met with the same enthusiasm. “What’s wrong?”

Another deep breath, but this time it was Tess that spoke up. “Georgia won’t be able to dance for the club anymore, or at least not until after she’s had the baby.” 

Hermione was still unsure as to what this had to do with her, and she asked as much. A small girlish giggle from beside her tore her attention away from Tess, and Georgia was snickering into her hand. “You’re a bright girl, Hermione, but sometimes you can be so dense. No offence!” Georgia placed her palms on both sides of Hermione’s face and brought it closer to hers, and Hermione could feel her breath blowing onto her skin. “I can’t dance anymore, so Tess needs someone to replace me. Preferably someone who knows all of the routines.”

The pieces of the jigsaw puzzle clicked together in Hermione’s brain, and she felt her heart pounding in her chest as she looked to Tess with hope written all over her face.

“What do you say, Hermione? Think you have what it takes?” 

Hermione nodded her head quickly and managed to squeak out a reply. “Yes!”

Tess stood up from her chair and walked around the desk, placing a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Well then, welcome to burlesque.”

~*~

The pub was full of people at this hour on a Friday night which came as no shock to Draco considering that he had been coming here every week for the last two months.

It had become a weekly tradition that Theo, Blaise and himself meet here on Friday nights after a long week of work to blow some steam and catch up. Theo worked in the Department of Magical Games and Sports at The Ministry, Draco worked as an Auror for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Blaise owned a few pubs in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, including the one they all met at every week.

Draco had arrived first, which was very unlike him as he usually tended to make his way to their reserved table at least an hour past the agreed meeting time. Today, however, he and Potter - who had rather suspiciously been assigned as his new partner - had made a major bust earlier in the day when they arrested a man brewing various illegal potions and selling them in Knockturn Alley. They had surprisingly worked quite well together and submitted all of their paperwork by 5 o’clock, giving Draco two hours before he was due to meet up with his mates.

“Well isn’t this a sight for sore eyes!” Draco rolled his eyes as Theo approached with outstretched arms. “Draco Malfoy is on time, no, Draco Malfoy is early! What strings did you have to pull for that one mate?”

“Nott, good to see you.” They wrapped their arms around one another in a masculine embrace before parting and taking a seat opposite each other, and before long three glasses of firewhiskey were not so carefully placed onto the wooden table between as Blaise clapped each of them on the shoulder before sliding into his own seat.

“I thought I saw your blonde head, mate. What the fuck are you doing here so early? You’re throwing out the routine.” Blaise and Theo laughed as they took a sip of the familiar liquid that filled a quarter of the crystal glass the three of them held in their hands.

“Fuck off, the both of you.” Draco tipped the contents of his glass back in one go before sliding it to the end of the table where it levitated and floated back over the bar. One of the better ideas Blaise had thought up when deciding to open his own pubs. Enchanting each and every glass so that once completely empty, they would make their own way back to the bar. “Potter and I had a successful morning. Arrested a guy selling illegal potions in Knockturn.”

“No shit, really? Did you bring any back for us?” Draco reached over the table, his hand colliding with the side of Theo’s head. It wasn’t hard enough to injure him, but it wasn’t soft enough that it wouldn’t cause him to at least feel a small amount of discomfort.

They chatted for over an hour, each of them gradually becoming more and more alcohol affected with each round of firewhiskey they ordered, which never ended well. One of them would generally think up what they believed to be a “brilliant” idea that, in fact, turned out to be the furthest thing from brilliant. One time Blaise had suggested they go for a fly on their quidditch broomsticks, and while intoxicated is definitely not the best idea considering Theo had needed to spend the following week at St Mungo’s healing his broken bones. Another time Draco had suggested that they sneak into Hogwarts and mess with Slughorn’s Potions supplies. Thankfully, they had barely made it through the wards before Headmistress McGonagall had scolded them before sending them away with three vials of Pepper-Up Potion. So it was only a matter before one of them decided to-

“I have an idea!” Theo slammed his sixth glass down, and Draco groaned as he placed his head in his heads. “Why don’t we venture outside of our comfort zone?”

“What the fuck are you on about, Nott?” Blaise downed the rest of his drink.

“Unless I’m wrong, which I never am, none of us have been to muggle London since the war ended, have we?” 

“No, Theo, none of us have been to muggle London. We don’t have a reason to.” Draco answered. Trust Theo to bring up the one thing he tried hard to never think about. The war forced him to do things he wasn’t proud of, and took away a part of him that he would never get back: his innocence. Whilst he hadn’t personally taken a life, he had played a major part in the deaths of the many witches and wizards that gave up their lives to save the Wizarding world, and he was too much of a fucking coward to do anything about it. 

“Let’s change that then, shall we?” Theo stood up and made his way towards the exit, before Blaise reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back to them.

“Oh no you don’t!” He tightened his grip on his friend's arm, ensuring that he wouldn’t go anywhere that he shouldn’t. “I happen to like where we are tonight.”

“Well you would, wouldn’t you? You own the fucking place.” Theo ripped his arm free before turning to Draco. “Come on mate, think about it. Three extremely good-looking men out and about in muggle London for the night. You never know what we might find.”

Draco couldn’t even fathom why he was entertaining the idea, but the more he thought about it, the more appealing it was to him. Theo had a point. For the past three months, Draco had felt stuck, like he wasn’t moving forward or going anywhere with his life. He felt like he had no purpose even though he had a rewarding job, and one that didn’t keep him chained to his desk like the other unlucky bastards that he worked with. 

A change of scenery surely wouldn’t hurt, Merlin, it might even be good for them.

“Well?” Theo pushed, and Draco looked between him and Blaise before allowing the hint of a smirk to creep onto his face.

“Fuck it.” Draco raised his hands in the air and stood up, shrugging his black coat over his shoulders. “Let’s go to muggle London.”

Chapter Text

An evening in muggle London was nothing like Draco had ever thought it would be. He had only been there a handful of times with his father during his younger years, but even then he’d only seen it during the day and had quite different ideals than he does now.

Theo had apparated the three of them to some sketchy, dark alley where upon their arrival he and Blaise had shared the same knowing look between each other: they both immediately regretted their decision of allowing Theodore to follow through with this absurd idea he had thought up.

However, once they had left the alley and entered the adjacent street, most of the doubts that Draco had were simply forgotten. Most of them.

The streets were filled with a variety of different people that were practically rubbing shoulders with one another. It reminded Draco of when he and his mother used to visit Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade at Christmastime when he was younger, and witches and wizards would congregate to find the perfect gift for their loved ones. Those days have long since passed though.

It seemed as though everywhere Draco looked there was a brightly lit establishment full of people. Whether that be a restaurant, store or club of some description, the night was alive as bodies bustled around the three wizards.

“Where should we go lads?” Theo asked, and Draco and Blaise both stared at him. Trust Theo to suggest a night out with no plan whatsoever. 

“You really put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you mate?” Blaise shook his head as they weaved their way through the street, assessing their options. 

“The best nights have no plan…..” Draco rolled his eyes as he tuned out of Theo’s piss-poor explanation. He took in the sight of the muggles around him just going about their business with not a care in the world. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel envious at the thought of everyone around him being so care-free. None of them would’ve been raised hating a certain type of witch or wizard due the status of their blood. None of them would’ve listened to his mothers scream while she was tortured due to his fathers mistakes. None of them would’ve housed a pyschopathic murderer and his army for over two years. None of them would’ve been branded with the symbol of death. None of them would’ve been faced with the decision to kill their headmaster or be killed themselves. None of them would’ve watched their classmates be killed and tortured, one of which occurred on the floor of his own home.

If someone had of told Draco five years ago that he would be walking around muggle London wishing to one of them, he would’ve spat in their face. But the truth is that ever since the war ended, Draco had felt lost. He bought an empty shop that used to be an old pub in Hogsmeade, but it’s continued to sit there empty. Draco had thought about reviving it back into the pub it used to be, but there were already too many similar places in the village. He’d also considered turning it into a bookstore, but decided against that idea as well. He’d realised that once people learned that it was owned by a Malfoy, no one would willingly walk in there and hand over their hard-earned galleons to a Death Eater. He’d simply accepted that fact, and so the shop sat vacant, waiting for something, for anything to inspire Draco.

“What about here?” Theo stopped them outside of a club with pulsing strobe lights and Draco grimaced at how tightly packed it was. He could practically feel the sweaty bodies brushing against his handsomely tailored suit.

“Absolutely not.” He began walking again along the strip and only continued once he heard two pairs of shoes against the pavement behind him. “Too crowded.”

“Well bloody hell, Malfoy. It’s a Friday night in London, what do you expect?” Theo quickened his pace so that he was now walking alongside Draco and ran his fingers through his curls in an attempt to tame them. “Are you hoping to just stumble upon an nearly empty bar where you don’t have to interact with any of the common folk?”

Draco spun and glared at his best friend of 18 years. “Don’t you dare start Nott. I know exactly what you’re insinuating, and you know that I’m not-”

“Hey! What about that place?” Blaise and Theo broke from the seething stares that they were giving each other, and instead followed the direction of Blaise’s finger. Across the street was a blinding sign that read ‘The Lounge’ and that was when Draco heard the music. It was as if he was being drawn to it, now that he knew it was there. And when he looked up, standing on one of the terraces above the sign was a group of beautiful women wearing … quite revealing costumes. 

Lingerie, they were wearing lingerie.

“Well-spotted my friend!” Theo grasped Blaise’s shoulder before turning back to Draco. “Come on mate, let’s just give it a go. Never know what you might find in there.” 

Draco wet his bottom lip and sighed deeply, resulting in a stupid grin to spread across Theo’s face when he realised that he’d won. The three of them descended the stairs and were greeted by an odd looking gentleman. Behind him Draco could see dozens of round tables, a few of them unoccupied; a long bar with a constant stream of customers; and a group of three women dancing provocatively on the stage.

“That’ll be £10 each.” Theo and Blaise reached into their pockets and pulled out some muggle money that they had converted at Gringotts before apparating, and Draco turned to the man behind the counter.

“What is this, a strip club?” He asked. Whilst Draco was not opposed to watching a bunch of girls strip down in front of him, he’d never been to a club of that kind before especially considering that they were non-existent in the Wizarding world. 

“You wash your mouth out right now, good sir!” The man snatched the £10 bill from Draco’s hand and gestured to the room behind him, “You are the second person to ask me that in the last month! This is a Burlesque club.” He handed each of them a small slip of parchment. “Enjoy the show.”

~*~

Hermione and Georgia had spent the better part of the week at the club memorising the routines so that Hermione was ready for Friday night. 

Georgia was a blessing, Hermione realised. She was patient and kind and supported Hermione with every step, every complaint, and every doubt. She sat Hermione down and talked her through one of the most frustrating ordeals she had been made to endure: how to apply makeup. 

Hermione was adamant about starting fresh, and that included taking a much needed time-out from practicing magic. She had tucked her wand away in a safe hidden in her apartment and had only reached for it a handful of times in the last month.

She missed the ease of taming her wild hair in the mornings and applying a flawless layer of makeup with a flick of the wooden object. 

“Hermione!” The voice of Georgia cut through the voices in the dressing home and Hermione was pulled up from her chair into the arms of her best friend. “You look beautiful! I see you took my advice with the eyeliner.” 

“Thank you Georg. Are there many people down there?” Whilst Hermione was a proud Gryffindor and one of the traits associated with her House was bravery, she felt far from brave as she stood amongst her fellow dancers - legs shaking with an abundance of nerves.

“Can you stop worrying? You’re going to smash it! And besides-” Georgia brushed her lips against the shell of Hermione’s ear, “-you had me as a teacher, what could possibly go wrong?”

Hermione threw her head back and giggled before wrapping her arms around the redhead in front of her. 

“Thank you Georgia, you have no idea how much of a blessing you have been to me.” Hermione rapidly blinked back the tears she felt in her eyes before they spilled and ruined the makeup she had spent a painful hour on.

“Hermione! Why aren’t you dressed yet?! Let’s go!” Tess took Hermione by the arm and gently dragged her over to the costumes and handed her a simple black leather two-piece that was joined together by more leather straps. The waist-high bottoms had a silver zip at the front that locked her body into the material, and the bra-like top pushed her breasts up to her chin leaving very little to the imagination. Tess helped Hermione slip her feet into the thigh-high leather boots, and handed her a matching pair of elbow length gloves as well as a muggle police officer hat.

When Hermione looked at herself in the mirror, the woman staring back at her was unrecognisable. She felt powerful and confident just by putting on an outfit. But Merlin, it was a sexy outfit.

If only Ronald could see me now, Hermione thought to herself as she made her way down the stairs and took her position in the middle of the stage alongside Angela and Tiffany. Georgia gave her a thumbs up from the side of the stage, and Hermione plastered a seductive smirk on her face as she lifted her chin in the air, and the curtain was raised.

~*~

“I have no idea what this is, but let’s just hope it’s strong enough to make us forget about our troubles!” Theo placed a round of drinks on the table in front of Blaise and Draco. It didn’t look very appetising that’s for sure.

Blaise held his glass in the air and the other two men followed suit. “To the most ridiculous idea Theo has had to date!” They clinked their glasses and each downed their drinks in one go. Draco’s eyes almost bulged out of his head as he tried not to choke on the foul liquid that he was trying to not spit all over the table, and by the looks of the other two they were in a similar situation to him.

“W-what the fuck was that!” Blaise coughed and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and Theo just shook his head as he didn’t have an answer. 

“Don’t you dare go anywhere near that fucking bar again, Nott.” Draco demanded as he looked at the stage. They had watched three separate groups of women seductively dance on the stage in barely any clothing, and it had become obvious to Draco that this definitely wasn’t a strip club. It was a lot classier than that. While the women were wearing lingerie and the like, the clothes that they were wearing stayed on, much to Theo’s dismay. 

The dancing had been mesmerising to Draco from the moment he walked into the club, and he found himself drawn to the art of Burlesque. He made a note to research more about it and look into any similar clubs that may be in the Wizarding world when he travelled back. 

The women had a lasting effect on the Malfoy heir as made evident by the tightness of his dress pants, however he felt nothing but the utmost respect for them. He’d had a lot of time to reflect on the way he’d treated people in the past, particularly women. He used Pansy and played with her feelings like he would a puppet on its strings, and he most certainly didn’t deserve for her to forgive him and offer him the friendship they had now. Katie Bell who he had cursed in his Sixth Year - granted it was a case of ‘wrong place wrong time’. Luna and the way he had been forced to torture her in the cellar of Malfoy Manor. His mother and the way he spoke to her as if she meant nothing to him, when the truth was that couldn’t live without her. And her. The wild haired, freckled face Gryffindor whom he had tormented ever since their First Year. The girl he had watched grow into a young woman and cursed himself when he caught himself admitting that she was beautiful. The girl he watched writhe on the floor of the drawing room while his aunt tortured her over and over again with the Cruciatus Curse and then proceeded to carve into her skin.

The memories haunted him.

The group of ladies that were on the stage finished their set and exited to the side, and the audience applauded loudly bringing Draco out of the dark place that his thoughts had taken him. He was here to spend some time with his best mates and for one night just forget about all of his mistakes, and push the memories to the back of his mind. 

The lights went out and everyone in the club went quiet, leading Draco, Blaise and Theo to the same conclusion that the next set was the main event. The atmosphere had them all on the edge of their seats, Draco in particular. He had felt electrified by the energy surrounding the club and that feeling had magnified upon his first steps through the door. It was unexplainable. His magic thrummed beneath the surface of his skin as it coursed through his veins. Draco almost felt as though he was pumped full of adrenaline, but what was causing this strange reaction was a mystery to him.

Through the dim light in the room Draco watched as the curtain was raised and he could make out three figures standing on the stage and a single spotlight focused on the group.

Ooh, oh yeah yeah

Ooh yeah yeah

A shiver ran down his spine as the woman in the centre sang into the old-fashioned muggle microphone. Her voice was like silk, and was instantly familiar to him, although he had not a clue why that was.

I need a tough lover, yeah yeah yeah

The lighting changed and bright colours flashed through the club, lighting up the ladies as they danced across the stage. Draco kept his eyes on the woman that had been in the centre of the trio. Her hair was styled in a way that covered a lot of her face, and so he roamed his eyes over the rest of her body. She seductively swayed her hips and ran her hands along her thighs.

The seven sisters got nothing on him

I’m talking about a lover who’s fast as the wind

Everyone will talk about how he got me fixed

She stopped abruptly back in the centre of the stage and turned to face the audience, the spotlight focused directly on her and lighting up her face. Draco’s jaw felt like lead as his mouth hung open, agape. A low whistle from Theo and an unbelieving laugh from Blaise confirmed it.

Draco’s hands clenched into fists as they rested on the table in front of him, his eyes glued to the woman on the stage. There were no longer three people dancing, not in Draco’s eyes at least.

“Mate! That’s not who I think it is, is it?” Blaise was still recovering from his outburst, but Draco was barely registering what was being said beside him. He could hear Theo’s voice engaging in a conversation, but for the life of him, Draco couldn’t understand a word nor did he want to.

His heart was beating so fast that he thought it might palpitate in his chest. He could feel beads of sweat gathering on his forehead and his palms were clammy. His stomach was doing somersaults and his trousers were becoming tighter and tighter the longer he stared.

He’s a tough lover (yeah yeah)

He’s a tough lover (oh oh)

The ladies finished their routine and received a standing ovation, although Draco remained glued to his seat. Because there was not a chance that out of all the clubs along the busy street of London that the three men had chosen this club. This club out of all the witches and female muggles in the world, that she would dance for. After the memories that had resurfaced tonight, she would appear, and that she would look that fucking good. 

There was no way that that was Hermione Granger.

~*~

“That was amazing Hermione!” The second Hermione had exited the stage, Georgia swept her into a bone crushing hug and spun her around until they both began to feel dizzy. “You looked so great out there!”

“I felt amazing!” Hermione was jittery with excitement as she and the girls made their way up to the dressing rooms. She had never felt more powerful, more sexy than she did during that dance. The way she moved her hips and ran her slender fingers across her skin gave her on a high like no other. And the fact that Tess had allowed for her to sing was the cherry on top.

Hermione’s set was the last for the evening and so everyone was taking the steps to pack their things to go home. As she stripped out of her leather outfit - with help from Georgia - she replayed the dance in her mind on repeat.

She had started out strong. Her pose and facial expressions were faultless and once the music began, her moves were natural and precise with not one step out of place. Towards the end however, she faltered. Only briefly, and barely enough for anyone but her to notice, but she had done it nonetheless. She had made the mistake of eyeing the audience as they spurred her on, and one of the lights lit up a face, a face that she had never expected to see again. A flash of platinum blonde hair and porcelain skin had resulted in Hermione missing a step, although she recovered immediately and deliberately didn’t look back to the centre of the club until the music stopped.

When she raised her chin and looked towards the table where she had seen him, he was gone, and she concluded that it was just a figment of her imagination. She couldn’t deny the fact that she was disappointed to see that he wasn’t there and that confused Hermione. On more than one occasion she had thought she’d seen people from her past, so the shock mostly came from seeing that particular wizard. She mostly saw Ginny in Georgia, although the hair and personality explained that. She thought she had seen Harry walking through the park across the street from her apartment a couple of times, but dismissed that idea entirely as Hermione knew that no one had any idea where she was. Did they miss her? Had anyone even noticed that she had disappeared without a trace? 

Seeing Ginny and Harry made sense, Hermione missed them. They were the closest friends she had, and so imagining them being here with her wasn’t an absurd thought. But him? It was almost laughable to imagine that he would choose to spend a Friday evening wandering the streets of muggle London and sitting in a muggle club. That didn’t make sense at all, and it was quite concerning to Hermione that she was imagining him doing just that.

After changing into some jeans and a loose olive shirt, Hermione sat in front of a mirror and started the painful process of removing the layers of makeup she had packed on earlier. She carefully peeled off the false eyelashes that were stuck on her eyelids and began to wipe the foundation off her face. She smiled quickly at her reflection as she began to look more like the simple version of herself. She liked that version a lot more than the dolled-up, faker looking Hermione.

“Do you girls want to go and grab a pizza?” Hermione looked to the right as Tiffany addressed the group of women, each of them jumping at her suggestion of food. 

“Yeah!” Hermione agreed and began shoving her cosmetics into her bag; but when she stood up to leave with them, they had already left. 

Of course she was still the new girl, and so it was understandable that they forgot her and she tried not to let the feeling of disappointment weigh her down. She slowly sunk back into her chair, once again staring at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed and full of freckles, her lips stained red from the lipstick she had just removed. Her hair was wild and untamed, but Tess was adamant that it was all part of “the look”. 

Hermione wondered what her friends were doing tonight, and her thoughts had begun to drift back to a place that she didn’t want to go. So she -

“Granger.” Hermione’s breath halted. Her heart was beating so hard and fast that she thought it might break out of her chest cavity. Her eyes were wide open and her mouth dry. In the muggle world, she was Hermione Wilkins, no one knew of her true surname. Only those from the Wizarding world knew Hermione Granger. And that voice, over the years it had become deeper but it was undeniably familiar. She would never forget the voice of the person who had spent the majority of their childhood tormenting her. The voice of her first crush, and judging by the way she was feeling in that very moment, that crush was still lingering. 

Hermione thought back to the platinum blonde that she thought she had seen earlier, and as she slowly turned in her seat it was abundantly clear that she had not imagined it.

Because the platinum blonde was standing in front of her in a tailored deep purple suit, his hair slicked back casually, and stylish black-rimmed glasses resting on his nose. His cheekbones and jawline had become more structured and he was noticeably more muscular since the last time she saw him. She was thankful that she was sitting down otherwise her legs would’ve given way and she would have embarrassed herself spectacularly. She eyed him up and down before clearing her throat and finally finding her voice. 

“Malfoy.”

Chapter Text

“Malfoy.” Hermione meant for it to be a statement, an observation but instead it came out as more of a question. She supposed she had also meant it in that way as well, not that she wanted him to know that.

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards in the famous Malfoy smirk, the smirk she had grown accustomed to during their years at Hogwarts. Back then it had infuriated her, so much so that she had dreamed of the day she wiped it off his face with a slap across the cheek. It was the picture of cockiness, that definitely hasn’t changed. But what did change had nothing to do with him, not entirely anyway. It had everything to do with Hermione’s reaction to him. She felt her body heat, and it was as if her skin was on fire. She bit down on her lower lip until she tasted blood, and was completely aware of Draco’s line of sight zeroing in on the action. She shifted slightly and pressed her thighs together, a movement that Draco also noticed and subsequently made him shift on his feet as well.

He appraised her from head to toe, not saying a word. Instead he brought his hand up to his face and rubbed his chin, deep in thought, and swiped his tongue across his lips. His pink, pursed lips. Lips that had Hermione entertaining all kinds of inappropriate thoughts. Are they as soft as they look? What would they feel like pressed against hers? 

It was only when he finally spoke that she pulled herself out of the trance she’d found herself in, although instead of diminishing her previous questions, his voice only raised more, none of them appropriate to ask out loud. 

“I have so many questions, Granger-” As do I. “-but I suppose I should start with the most basic one.” He slowly walked over to where Hermione was still seated and leaned in so close that she could feel his breath on her face. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes searched hers like they would hold the answers to all of his questions. His breath smelt of peppermint sugar quills, Hermione’s favourite sweet treat from Honeydukes. 

“Well? Surely I haven’t finally succeeded in silencing The Brightest Witch of her-”

“Don’t call me that!” Hermione’s voice was stronger than she thought it was going to be, and she suppressed the joy she felt because of it. Ever since she had been labelled The Brightest Witch of her Age, Hermione had hated the title. To her it made her seem better than everyone else, like she was the smartest, bravest witch “of her age”, and that simply was not true. While yes, she was bright, brave, and everything else that the title entailed, she was not the only one. Lavender Brown who was murdered by Fenrir Greyback in The Battle of Hogwarts was brave and smart. Ginny Weasley who had been possessed by Tom Riddle when she was only 11 years old, who had watched her older brother die was brave and smart. Cho Chang, Susan Bones, Luna Lovegood, Parvati and Padma Patil, the list was endless. She was not the brightest witch of her age, she was one of the brightest witches of her age.

“Well are you going to answer my question or not?” Draco was still standing before her, his arms crossed over his chest in a very flattering manner. Hermione cursed under her breath and stared at the floor for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

“It’s really none of your business, Malfoy. But I know that you won’t leave until I give you a satisfactory answer.” she stood up, her legs only shaking slightly and tilting her face so that she was looking directly at him. “There was a situation that I needed to remove myself from, and I decided that I wanted to vacation in muggle London for a while. At least until the situation calmed down.” Hermione figured that if he thought she was eventually going to be back in the Wizarding world that he’d leave her alone. Alas, that was not the case.

“A situation? What kind of situation would cause Hermione Granger to run away?” 

“I didn’t run away, I simply knew that by staying I would put my friends in a tough situation.” Hermione grabbed her bag and began to make her way down the stairs with Draco hot on her heels.

She didn’t know whether having him follow her made her excited, frustrated, or possibly somewhere in the middle. She waved goodbye to Jack who gave her a confused look as she walked out onto the street. That makes two of us, she thought.

She walked a couple of metres before stopping abruptly, causing Draco’s chest to press against her back. She spun around, intending on giving him a taste of her Gryffindor attitude. But when she looked into his eyes, she forgot everything that she was planning on saying. He still had that damn smirk on his face, and if she was being completely honest with herself, it was quite charming.

“Come and get some dinner with me.” His fingers gently brushed hers, sending another shiver up her spine, and after blinking two times she glanced down at her wristwatch which indicated that it was well past dinner time.

“Malfoy, it’s nearly two in the morning-”

“Your point?” God he was infuriating. Hermione looked around and her eyes locked onto the Chinese restaurant she and Georgia go to all the time, and quickly averted her gaze away.

Just as she began to open her mouth and tell him that she wasn’t hungry, her stomach betrayed her and made a low rumbling sound. Draco’s lips curled upwards in satisfaction.

“You’re not going to leave me alone unless I say yes, are you?” She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her stomach tightening at the sight of him staring down at her and slowly shaking his head and she sighed deeply. “Alright, fine. But I’m choosing where we eat.”

She turned and began walking briskly towards the restaurant and rolled her eyes when she heard Malfoy follow her. She had so many questions for him, it was hard for her to bite her tongue and not interrogate him then and there. 

They were seated at a table for two in the back of the establishment and out of sight from passerby’s on the street. Not that Hermione was expecting anyone else to unexpectedly pop up from her past, but she still felt uneasy as she sat across from Draco Malfoy while he looked over the menu.

He had always been attractive, even during their time at Hogwarts. It had always been a weakness to her. She vividly remembered that time in third year when she had struck him across the face and afterwards cradled the palm of her hand against her chest, thinking about the smoothness of his skin, and cursed herself for wondering if he was okay. Another time in sixth year, before they had confirmed his status as a Death Eater, Harry was obsessed with finding out the truth. Everything that went wrong that year was blamed on Draco without any proof, and on more than one occasion Hermione had found herself defending the platinum-haired boy. When she had been writhing in pain on the floor of Malfoy Manor while Bellatrix hit her repeatedly with the Cruciatus curse, Hermione had been staring at Draco the entire time, trying to focus on him to get through the pain. She noticed that he would wince every time she screamed, would avoid looking at her, and relied heavily on the hand of his mother stopping him from taking a step forward. She believed that he had wanted to stop his aunt's assault on her, but understood why he couldn’t.

“Are you going to continue to stare at me, or are you going to ask one of the many questions I’m sure you have?” Hermione lifted her head that had, without her awareness, dropped to the palm of her hand and she flushed with embarrassment. 

It was at that time that the waitress decided to approach their table, and Hermione could’ve kissed the tiny woman for her impeccable timing. Hermione ordered her usual: lemon chicken with a side of rice, and Draco ordered the same. 

Once the waitress had left, the two of them sat in silence, both waiting for the other to speak. Hermione fiddled with a loose thread on her jeans before taking a deep breath and looking back up to Malfoy.

“I, er, well-” Hermione was cut off as the waitress returned with two glasses and a chilled bottle of water which Draco poured for them, sliding Hermione’s cup over to her, his fingers brushing hers briefly. It was the slightest touch, but Hermione gasped at the contact. It had sent a shock up the entire length of her arm, and she quickly withdrew her hand from where it had been resting on the table.

“You were saying?” Draco was still staring at her intensely, and it was really beginning to effect Hermione. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, and she thanked God that Draco couldn’t see her legs underneath the table otherwise he would notice how tightly her thighs were pressed together. 

“I suppose I’d just like to know why you’re here?” She asked. 

“Because I’m hungry.” He said simply, knowing that that was not the answer she was looking for.

“I don’t want to know why you’re here in this restaurant Malfoy, I want to know what you’re doing in muggle London.” Her voice was a little higher than she intended, and her eyes widened as she looked around to make sure no one had heard her. “Are you… following me? Did someone send you?” It wasn’t too absurd of an idea that he would’ve been sent to find her, although for the life of her, Hermione couldn’t think of who would bother to ask him. The last she had heard of Draco Malfoy was that he wasn’t a very well-liked person, especially after the war. None of the ex-Death Eaters were, and those that hadn’t found themselves in Azkaban or executed generally kept to themselves.

“No, Granger, I wasn't sent here to follow you.” He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. “Contrary to what you and your friends might think, not everything is about you.” His jaw tensed and he turned his head to the side, avoiding looking at her for what felt like the first time this evening.

“Well, why were you here? You can’t blame me for asking the question, Malfoy. Even you have to admit that-”

“That what? That it’s unusual for a Death Eater to be walking around with muggles? Should I just stay confined to the walls of Malfoy Manor and avoid socialising completely? Am I that pathetic that I can’t even go out in muggle London for one night considering I can’t go anywhere in wizard London?” Hermione could hear the hurt in his voice, and she was sure that if he was looking at her, she would see it all over his face too. Without thinking, she reached out and grasped his hand in hers.

Draco’s head spun back around and his hand twitched at the contact with Hermione, but he didn’t remove it. Instead, he stared as she gripped his palm in hers.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I simply meant that I didn’t think you’d want to be in muggle London.” The softness of Hermione’s voice startled her, considering that not fifteen minutes before she had been trying to get away from the boy across from her.

The waitress approached them with their meals, and Hermione pulled her hand away from Draco’s as their plates were placed in front of them. Hermione picked up her fork and pushed her food around the plate, no longer hungry. Neither one of them spoke for what felt like hours.

“It was Theo’s idea.” Draco startled Hermione when he spoke and when he looked up at her, he noticed a slight crease in between her eyebrows. “Theo Nott. We usually meet at a pub in Hogsmeade every Friday night with Blaise Zabini.” Draco explained to Hermione how they had come to be in muggle London that night, and eventually how they’d managed to find themselves in the Burlesque club that Hermione worked at. “Which leads me to my question.” He leaned in, and Hermione swallowed thickly. “What are you doing working in a muggle Burlesque club?”

“It’s a long story-”

“I have time.” Draco seemed to have a retort for everything Hermione said, and so she sighed and ran her tongue along her bottom lip.

“Ron and I broke up. I knew that if I were to stay in the Wizarding world it would put our friends in a difficult situation, and so I packed up my things and left.” She took a bite of her dinner and sipped on her water to allow her time to think about what she would say next. “My parents have an apartment here in London that they no longer use, and so I live there now. I figured that eventually I’d need a job and I stumbled across the burlesque club. I started as a waitress and fell in love with the dancing, and so I memorised them all. The opportunity arose for me to step in and dance on behalf of another lady who was.. indisposed.. and after that performance they hired me as a full-time dancer. Tonight was actually my first proper show.”

Draco asked her about burlesque, and she answered every question he had. They both agreed that the Wizarding world needed something of its kind and Hermione admitted that she would love to open her own club one day, but she wasn’t planning on returning anytime soon.

After they had both finished eating, Draco insisted on escorting her back to her apartment.

“So, why did you and Weaslebee break up?” Draco asked as they rounded the corner to the entrance of her apartment building.

“After the war ended, things between us were strained to say the least. He lost his brother, and we both lost a lot of people that we cared about, so when our relationship should have been blossoming and full of happiness, it was instead filled with grief. The trials, the funerals, it all took its toll on us, Ron apparently more so.” 

“So he broke up with you?”

“No,” Hermione shook her head. “No he didn’t break up with me. The day that I left, I’d arranged for us to have lunch with Harry. Things got out of control very quickly and Ron was being a complete ass, so I told him that I’d go back to our apartment and pack my things. I left within the hour.” Talking about the break-up should’ve made Hermione sad, or at least a little upset. But she wasn’t. It was as if the whole ordeal had no effect on her and she wondered if she ever truly had feelings for Ronald. 

“Well, if I didn’t already know he was a fucking git, I do now.” Draco started to reach for her hand however he stopped himself just as quickly, but not before Hermione noticed. She entwined her fingers with his and that feeling of electricity from before shot up her arm again. She opened her mouth to invite him up to her apartment for coffee, but thought against it. He seemed like he’d changed, but she couldn’t be sure. After all she had only been with him for… nearly four hours she realised as she glanced down at her watch.

“Well, I suppose this is good-”

“I’d like to come back and see you.” His admission rendered Hermione speechless, but it also sent a warm feeling through her entire body, every nerve was tingling with… hope? Anticipation? Dread? She wasn’t sure. All she knew is that in the time they had spent together tonight, this was not the same Draco Malfoy she had known in school. That Draco had died at some point during the war. And good riddance too, because that Draco was an absolute ass.

Hermione tugged on her ear and chewed her bottom lip as she contemplated her response. When she first saw him in the dressing room, she was skeptical about his motives, but as the night progressed, Hermione felt herself being drawn to him. She hung onto every word he said and couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in her stomach. She wanted to see him again, but she couldn’t help the seed of doubt that was planted in the back of her mind. This could all be a part of some elaborate scheme Malfoy and his friends had thought up. After all, he did say that he came here with Blaise and Theodore, but Hermione had yet to lay eyes on them. They could very well have set this whole evening up so that Hermione would play right into their hands and fall for whatever Slytherin trick they were playing on her. But the war had dramatically changed her and her friends, and so she hoped that it had the same effect on Draco and his mates.

“I’ll be dancing Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday night next week. Doors open at 6pm.” Just as Hermione turned to enter the lobby of her apartment building, Draco reached out and grabbed her head, tugging her back to him. She reached up and placed a hand on his chest to stop herself from colliding with him, and he leaned in so that his lips were brushing against the shell of her ear sending an abundance of shivers down her spine.

“See you then, Granger.” His voice was a soft purr and Hermione felt its effect on her between her thighs. The entire night she had been looking at him and trying to control the sudden lust she felt and stop herself from initiating something that she couldn’t take back. But her self control was lacking with each second that ticked past, and no amount of occlumency could shield her from the range of emotions stirring within her.

Her mouth was dry as Draco pulled away from her, his fingertips grazing hers before he turned his back and apparated away without a second glance back. Hermione leaned back against the outside wall of her building, a hand pressed to her chest in an attempt to slow down the rapid beating of her heart but it was no use. After a moment, she made her way up to level 6 and with shaking hands she managed to unlock the door to her apartment.

The second she was inside she dropped her bag by the door and threw herself onto her bed, not even bothering with a shower. She simply laid there going over the events of the last five hours, and anticipating the week ahead. The next time she saw Draco Malfoy, she was going to be prepared.

~*~

Hermione spent the following two days trying to figure out what had happened on Friday night. She began with the facts, and those were that Draco, Blaise and Theodore had visited muggle London; Draco had split from his two friends at some point in the evening to go to the dressing room; Hermione and Draco had eaten at a Chinese restaurant and talked for four hours or so; Draco had walked her back to her apartment and said that he would be coming back to see her. 

The facts were simple, they weren’t complicated in the slightest. It was everything surrounding those facts that had Hermione’s head spinning and left her with all the questions that needed answers. Why were the three Slytherin’s in muggle London when they could’ve gone anywhere? Why did they just happen to be at her Burlesque club? Why did Draco insist on spending time with her that night? Why was he so interested in what she was doing? He used to believe that she was an imposter in the Wizarding world, so shouldn’t he have been glad that she finally recognised that she shouldn’t be there?

And then there were the more complex questions, the questions Hermione asked herself but tried not to dwell on as she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know the answers. Why did she let him in so easily? Why did her body betray her every time he spoke? Why hasn’t she stopped thinking about the feel of his chest underneath her palm? Why couldn’t she dismiss the image of her inviting him up to her apartment? Why did she regret not doing that? Should she do it the next time she saw him? If she saw him? 

It was a never ending stream of unanswered questions, and Hermione hadn’t been able to focus on anything else since she watched Draco apparate away. 

“Hermione, did you hear me?” Tiffany was waving her hand in front of Hermione’s face for Merlin knows how long.

“Sorry, Tiff, what was that?”

“I asked if you wanted to join a bunch of us for drinks after the show tonight? Dee’s partner owns a bar just down the street and is going to stay open for us.” 

Hermione opened her mouth to say yes, but stopped herself when she remembered a certain platinum blonde man that may be in the audience. The thought sent a rush through her entire body, settling in between her thighs where a pool of moisture was forming. The last time she had slept with a man was Ron, although describing him as a man was giving him more credit than he was worth. He hadn’t known what to do, and instead let Hermione do all the work each time they were intimate. For the first couple of times it was fine, but when it became a regular occurrence it began to frustrate Hermione. All she wanted was a man that knew what they were doing, and Ronald Weasley was not that. Draco Malfoy on the other hand…

“Sorry Tiff, but I actually made plans already. Another time?” The girls were of course fascinated by the “plans” that Hermione had made, but she didn’t divulge any information to them. She wanted to keep it close to her chest.

Hermione slipped into tonight’s outfit: a dazzling black one-piece with silver handprints across her breasts and backside paired with a matching black top hat, fishnet stockings and knee-high boots. As she made her way down to the stage, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. What if Draco didn’t end up coming? What if he did? She tried to convince herself that either way, it wasn’t a big deal. But it was, to her it was. Because for the past 72 hours all Hermione has done is picture herself inviting Draco up to her apartment for a drink, and then having his hands explore every inch of her body. 

“Mione!” Georgia came trotting over to her, out of breath, just as Hermione was about to enter the stage and take her starting position. “Table 7, he’s at table 7.” She said, and then she was gone.

Hermione’s heart was pounding in her chest, and she shakily swung her legs over the chair in front of her. He was here. He was here. Table 7. 

The curtains rose and the spotlight was on her.

It’s a cold and crazy world that’s raging outside

Well baby, me and all my girls are bringing on the fire

Show a little leg, got to shimmy your chest

It’s a life, it’s a style, it’s a need, it’s burlesque

Hermione leaned backwards with one arm in the air, and the other sliding down her body, her hand resting on the junction of her thighs. The music changed and Hermione spun around in her seat so that she was facing the audience. She lifted her right leg and crossed it over her body while she snapped her fingers in time with the tune. She scanned the faces in front of her, and she immediately locked onto a pair of grey eyes staring back at her from table 7.

E-X-P-R-E-S-S

Love, sex, ladies, no regrets

She ran her hand up her leg before jumping up and gripping the back of the chair while she wiggled her arse in the air, never breaking eye contact with the man at table 7.

Fasten up, can you imagine what would happen

If I let you close enough to touch?

Step into the fantasy, you’ll never want to leave

Baby, that’s guaranteed, why?

She turned around and dropped to the ground, and when she rose she slid her hands up her sides and lifted them above her head. She saw Draco lean forward in his seat and rest his chin between his thumb and index finger. Hermione had never wanted a dance to be over as much as she did in that very moment.

I tease ‘em til they’re on the edge

They screaming more for more and more they beg

I know it’s me he’s here to see

My pleasure brings him to his knees

Hermione thrust her hips in the air and changed the words as she left the stage and strode seductively over to table 7. Draco’s eyes widened as he watched her approach, and she climbed onto the table, grabbing his thin black tie and pulled his face closer to hers.

It’s a passion and emotion

It’s a fashion, burlesque

It’ll move you, going through you

Do what I do, burlesque

Hermione made her way back to the stage where the rest of the girls were smirking at her while they continued the dance. As she walked back up the steps, she saw Georgia giving her a thumbs up as she positioned herself in the middle of the rest of the women.

All ladies come to flaunt it

Boy, throw it up if you want it

Can you feel me, can you feel it?

It’s burlesque

The song ended and Hermione practically sprinted off the stage as fast as she could in the shoes she was in. She flew up the stairs to the dressing room and burst through the doors, startling a few girls that Hermione didn’t know very well. She mumbled a quick apology and stripped out of her costume, replacing it with a lace royal blue bra and matching knickers before sitting in front of a mirror and taking her makeup off just as the rest of the girls entered the room.

“Hermione!”

“Who was he?”

“What a catch!”

“Go get him, girl!”

“You left the stage pretty quickly! Someone you need to go and see?”

She was bombarded with questions from the others and was beginning to feel overwhelmed as she pulled on a little black dress that was tight in all the right places. She was surrounded with dancers until Georgia pushed her way to Hermione, raising her voice above the chatter.

“Quiet! God you’re like a pack of feral dogs! If Hermione wants to tell you about it, she will. In the meantime, leave the poor girl alone would you?” No one dared to argue with the pregnant woman and they all shied away, leaving Hermione with Georgia.

“Thank-”

“Yes, yes, you’re welcome and all that, whatever.” Hermione had been about to thank her ginger friend before she cut her off, and continued with a blasé flick of her hand. “Now, you need to get going. Mr Tall and Handsome is downstairs waiting for you.”

Hermione bit her lip and couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face and she made for the stairs that led down to where Draco was waiting for her. He came, he told her he would and he did. Something about him keeping his promise made Hermione feel something stirring within her. Ronald had always promised things to her and never, ever followed through with them, and so this was a welcome change.

“Oh, and Hermione?” She spun around and faced Georgia once more before descending the stairs. “He called me Weasley, should I be offended?” Hermione couldn’t stop the laugh that erupted from her as she threw her head back. Of course he would refer to her as a Weasley, and it’s quite fitting considering Georgia does remind Hermione of Ginny.

“No, you shouldn’t be offended. Don’t pay any attention to him.” Hermione answered once her laughter died down and she slowly made her way to where Draco was waiting for her, casually leaning against the wall at the foot of the stairs.

Hermione hadn’t had a chance to take in his appearance properly before, but now she did. He was wearing charcoal dress pants and black shoes. Tucked into his pants was a plan white shirt with silver cufflinks and sleeves that were tight around his biceps. He had a black tie hanging loosely around his neck and his blonde hair was casually swept to the side. The image made Hermione weak at the knees.

He didn’t say anything as she approached him. Instead he simply ran his eyes over the length of her body which caused her to shuffle on her feet at the scrutiny she was under, but relaxed once she heard a low, appreciative whistle that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Well, well Granger, the muggle world certainly looks good on you.” He held out his arm which she took without hesitation as he led her out into the street and in the direction of the Chinese restaurant they had dined at on Friday night. Neither of them said a word until they were seated and had ordered their meal. 

It was Hermione that spoke up first. “So, you came?” It was intended as a statement, but when her voice rose higher at the end, and so it was presented as more of a question, and Draco tilted his head to the side and smirked. 

“Not yet I haven’t.” Hermione choked on her water, and pressed a palm to her chest as she worked on controlling her breathing and trying to not embarrass herself in front of Draco. 

“What’s wrong, Granger? Does that bother you?” He leaned forward, his cocky expression gone and replaced with a more serious one. Hermione shook her head.

“No, I just, I wasn’t expecting you to say that.” She truthfully answered. 

“Good. Because I want to tell you a secret, Granger.” He lifted his left index finger in front of him and beckoned her to lean towards him. “Come closer.” She obliged. “Good girl. The truth is that ever since I saw you in that tight little outfit on Friday night, I’ve thought of nothing else except for when I’d be able to see you next.” Hermione’s breath hitched in her throat. “I kept wondering about what outfit I’d see you in tonight, and then when the curtain lifted and I saw you… Granger, you don’t even want to know how it made me feel.”

Hermione’s heart was thundering, and she gulped as she conjured all of her Gryffindor bravery to ask him what she wanted to know. “Tell me. Tell me how it made you feel.”

His face darkened. Moisture pooled between Hermione’s thighs and she pressed them together to try and find some relief, but it was no use.

“I wanted to walk right up onto that stage and peel the clothes off you. I wanted to run my fingers along every inch of your skin and feel you shiver under my touch.” Hermione was shaking, she couldn’t control it. She wanted him to touch her. “I wanted to get on my knees and taste you, I bet you’re sweet. Tell me, Granger, have you ever ran your fingers along yourself, collecting the nectar between your thighs? Have you ever brought those fingers to your lips and tasted yourself?”

Hermione could barely breathe let alone string together an answer that would make the slightest bit of sense, and so she simply shook her head. Every nerve in her body was electrified, and all he was doing was talking. His voice was enough to make her want to break, and it was taking all the restraint she had to not allow it to happen.

“Pity. I’d love to know…” he said, and Hermione saw something flicker in his grey eyes and that smirk crept its way back onto his face. She narrowed her eyes at the devilish look on Draco’s face, and was about to ask him what he was thinking, when she suddenly felt cold fingers trail along her thigh underneath the table. She froze.

The table they were seated at was only made for two people, and Draco was a tall man with long arms. As his fingers climbed higher, Hermione’s breathing was becoming frantic. His hand slipped under the hem of her dress, and she felt him graze her knickers. She was throbbing. She was both in awe and completely terrified. Was he really going to do this to her in a restaurant? A public setting where the waitress could walk over with their meals at any second? 

“Relax, love. Calm your breathing, you’ll give us away if you don’t control yourself.” He said, and Hermione was about to bite back with a witty response when her breath halted. He had pulled her knickers aside and slipped one finger through her folds, swirling around her entrance. “Fuck, you’re soaking.” He growled before carefully retracting his fingers from her. Hermione groaned at the loss of his touch and he chuckled lowly. “Patience, Granger. There’ll be time for that later. But for now… let’s find out just how sweet you are.” Hermione’s mouth was bone dry as she watched Draco lift his finger to his lips and suck the moisture clean off it. His eyes closed as he swallowed, and when they opened again they were burning with desire.

“Well?” Hermione squeaked, she could barely talk.

“I’m certainly going to enjoy devouring you later.” Draco kept his eyes on hers, and she was now a shaking mess. She wanted his fingers back on her, she wanted them in her. She wanted his face buried between her thighs. She wanted all of it plus more. She no longer had an appetite, at least not for Chinese food.

“What’s stopping you from doing it now?” Hermione asked boldly. She no longer cared about where they were or who would over hear them, all she knew is that she wanted Draco and she wanted him now.

“What’s stopping me? Granger, don’t you know that you’re not supposed to eat dessert before your dinner?” It was at that exact moment when the waitress decided to approach the table with their food, and Hermione was speechless. Draco sat across from her with a knowing look on his face and for the rest of the meal, and for the most part they sat in silence. When they spoke, it was mindless small talk and was about nothing relevant, and nothing compared to what they wanted to talk about.

When they exited the restaurant it was nearing 2am, and the breeze was biting against Hermione’s bare skin. 

They walked in silence back to Hermione’s apartment, and she invited Draco up for a drink. It was exactly how she had planned for it to go in her head. She opened her door and dropped her keys onto the kitchen bench before making her way to the refrigerator and taking out a chilled bottle of white wine. She poured two glasses and handed one to Draco.

While Hermione sipped on her glass, she kept her eyes on him and he kept his on her. Neither of them spoke until the sound of glass clinking against marble sounded, and Draco placed his wine on the bench and slowly stalked towards Hermione.

“What-what’re you doing?” Hermione stuttered.

“I’m ready for my dessert, Granger.” Hermione’s stomach was in her throat as Draco slipped her glass out of her hand and she was backed up against the kitchen bench and he leaned in. “Are you ready to offer it up to me?”

His breath was cool against her skin, and she swallowed thickly before answering. “I don’t know Draco, are you going to disappoint me like you did earlier?” Hermione watched his expression darken, and something within him snapped. 

He grabbed her by the hips and lifted her, firmly placing her backside on the bench and roughly sliding his hands underneath the hem of her dress. He palmed her ass before latching his mouth onto the side of her neck. Hermione threw her head back to allow him more access and slid her fingers into his hair, moaning as she felt him press his tongue against her skin. 

“I disappointed you earlier did I?” He breathed, and before Hermione could answer, he bit down on her throat causing her to gasp loudly. “Let me show you just how fucking disappointing I can be.” She felt her knickers being pulled down her thighs and she watched as Draco lifted them to his face, his eyes closing as he inhaled before he discarded them across the room. The action had Hermione dripping onto the counter, her entire body quivering as Draco pulled her forward and lowered himself so that his face was level with her centre. 

She could feel his breath blowing onto her sensitive area, her fingers still threaded through his hair. “Draco… please…” she begged, and she heard him chuckle, the sound flipping her stomach.

“Keep quiet love, we don’t want your neighbours to hear.” He said before pressing his mouth firmly onto her clit. His tongue swirled around her bud of nerves and Hermione’s neck almost snapped with the force when she tossed it back. She bit down on her lip to stop herself from emitting a noise, and she could feel herself climbing higher and higher towards her release. 

She moaned when she felt Draco push a finger inside of her, his tongue swiping and collecting the juices leaking from her. He hummed and the vibration pushed Hermione right onto the edge of her orgasm. “Fuck, Draco! I’m close!” She felt him add another finger and began thrusting into her rapidly, and his tongue continued flicking her clit as he drove her off the cliff and she fell into a sea of pleasure. “Oh my god… yes!” She rode the waves of her high, and felt Draco pull his fingers out of her and watched him place them in his mouth.

“Fucking delicious.” He said as he wrapped her legs around his waist and carried her in the direction of the bedroom. He threw her down on the bed and she watched as slowly loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. 

“Wait,” Hermione crawled towards him and grasped his hands in hers, “let me.” Draco cocked an eyebrow before dropping his hands and allowing her to slide his shirt over his shoulders. Hermione’s mouth watered as she took in the sight of his sculpted body, and she ran her fingers over his abdomen, watching the muscles contract. Hermione looked up at him through her eyelashes and ran her tongue along her bottom lip, Draco’s eye following the movement before she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulling his hips towards her.

“Fuck, Granger…” Draco growled as Hermione pulled his trousers down, taking his briefs along with them. Hermione’s eyes widened as she took in the size of him, and he wrapped a fist around his length, slowly stroking himself while Hermione watched.

“Are you worried that I won’t fit inside of you, Granger?” He let go of himself and gently peeled the dress off Hermione, tossing it across the room. He pushed her down so that she was lying flat on her back and he settled in between her thighs. “Don’t be.” He said before he pushed himself inside of her.

“Oh my god… Draco…” she moaned as he filled her, and he stilled so that she could adjust to the size of him. He could feel her stretching around his cock, and it took all of his willpower to not fuck her roughly into the mattress straight away. 

“Can I move?” He asked, and Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

“Please…” she begged, and that was all the confirmation Draco needed. He thrust his hips into hers, the sounds of their combined breathing and moaning creating a symphony that no orchestra could ever top. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, love. You feel so fucking good.” He growled as he snapped his hips roughly, and the added sound of skin slapping against skin had Draco’s cock throbbing inside of Hermione.

“Yes – Draco – right there, right there!” She exclaimed as he hit that sweet spot inside of her. 

“Come for me, Granger. Let me feel you come around my cock.” Draco ordered, and Hermione shook as she screamed his name while her walls clenched around him, and a dam burst. She saw stars as she came, and Draco thrusted into her once, twice, and she felt him twitch as he groaned. “ Fuck, Hermione!” He spilled his seed deep into her as they both rode out their orgasms, and Draco reluctantly pulled out of her and collapsed on the mattress beside her.

Hermione slid over to him and lifted her leg, crossing it over his body as she curled into his side and felt his fingers tangle in her hair.

“Was that disappointing, Granger?” He asked, breathless as he rested his cheek against her forehead.

“No, Malfoy. That was definitely not disappointing.”

Chapter Text

She felt hot, too hot. She was naked and so she figured that she had stripped in her sleep. Had she left the central heating on? 

Hermione groggily blinked the sleep out of her eyes as she stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together what had happened last night. The details were blurry. She remembered dancing and seeing Draco in the audience. They had gone to the Chinese restaurant together, and afterwards he had walked to her back to her apartment. They drank a glass of wine… and then… 

The restaurant. Hermione remembered his fingers as they collected evidence of her arousal. She remembered him bringing them to his lips and tasting her, his “dessert”. After the wine, one thing had led to another… she froze, and slowly turned her head to the left. 

Draco Malfoy was in her bed. Also naked. Her heart was beating a thousand times a minute as she took in the sight of the sleeping man next to her. She ran her eyes over his face and noticed how peaceful he looked. He was an incredibly attractive man, and Hermione hadn’t expected him to stay the entire night. She figured at some point he’d slip out from underneath the covers and quietly make his exit from her apartment. But waking up with him asleep next to her, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed was… unusual. Unusual but welcomed. 

The thought that last night meant more to Draco than just a one night stand was dangerous, and so Hermione pushed it to the back of her mind immediately. She built a shaky wall around it that could collapse at any moment, and she just hoped that the structure was strong enough to withstand the storm that plagued her subconscious.

Her eyes wandered down the length of the sleeping form and widened when she saw a tent made out of the covers approximately where Draco’s hips would be. A morning erection is completely normal for men, Hermione knew this because of her relationship with Ron. She would wake up and notice the dome in his boxers before he went to take care of it, whether that be by releasing the pressure by means of getting himself off, or simply taking a cold shower. Hermione had never been given the opportunity to help, and she’d never wanted to until now.

She remembered the way that Draco had pleasured her not once, but twice last night, and Hermione felt that it would only be fair for her to repay the favour. She reached towards him, but just as quickly, she stopped. What if he didn’t want her to touch him like that? Maybe to him, last night was only a one night stand, and he had intended to leave but fell asleep before he could. Her hand hovered in the space between them as she contemplated all possibilities until she had arrived at the conclusion that he’d simply been too exhausted to apparate. Apparating while fatigued was quite dangerous and posed the potential for that witch or wizard to get splinched and seriously injure themselves, and so of course he had stayed.

Hermione sighed and just as she began to pull her hand away, cool fingers wrapped around her wrist, startling her. She gasped as she looked into the grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. How long had he been awake? 

“What do you think you’re doing, Granger?” His voice was lower and deeper when he spoke and had a rougher edge to it. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat and she was lost for words. Draco raised an eyebrow, and so she cleared her throat before opening her mouth.

“I… I thought that-”

“Yes?” His grip around her wrist tightened as he encouraged her to keep speaking. However as soon as her next words were on the tip of her tongue, she felt her hand being dragged down and slipped underneath the covers, her fingertips grazing the skin on Draco’s waist. She froze, what she was planning on saying to him was completely forgotten. “You were saying?” He said as her hand was moved lower and lower until it rested just above his erection.

Hermione was barely able to keep her breathing under control, her own desire evident with the flushed look on her face, and the wetness between her legs. She had two options. The first was that she could shy away from what Draco clearly wanted her to do, or she could do the opposite. 

She decided on the latter.

Hermione smirked and raised a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow and watched as Draco ran his tongue along his bottom lip. She leaned forward and gently bit down on his ear lobe, eliciting a deep groan from the man in her bed. She wrapped her fist around his shaft and slowly began stroking up and down. The only sounds that could be heard was the heavy breathing from each of them, and the occasional crack of Hermione’s wrist as she adjusted the angle of which she was handling him. 

She pressed her lips against the soft skin just behind Malfoy’s ear followed by her tongue. She left a trail of kisses and purple marks along the column of his neck before she reached his shoulder. When she looked up at him, she saw his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut and so she figured that she must be doing something right.

Her own arousal was borderline torture, and she wanted nothing more than to thrust her hand between her thighs to find some relief from her growing desire. But this morning was about Draco, and about repaying him for the night before. 

Hermione slowly slid down Malfoy’s torso and pulled the covers back, revealing his hardened cock that was begging for relief. She gently ran her finger nails along his length, a hiss passing through Draco’s lips as his fingers curled in her wild hair. Hermione flicked her eyes back up to his face and was startled by the fact that he was now staring directly at her, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them before.

She felt his hand push her head down slightly, and taking the hint, Hermione stuck her tongue out and swirled it around his tip. A bead of white liquid seeped out of the slit, and she quickly collected it and trailed her mouth down before gently alternating his balls in her mouth.

“Fucking hell, Granger…” he moaned, and Hermione hummed at the thought of him enjoying himself and this seemed to only pleasure him more. A series of swear words left his mouth, and she lifted her face to watch him. His eyes were squeezed shut once again, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath he took. 

His eyes snapped open when he felt hers on him. “Did I ask you to stop?” He said, and Hermione smiled coyly before slowly descending her mouth and taking every inch of him, only stopping when she felt him hit the back of her throat which caused her to gag slightly.

She hollowed her cheeks and began moving her head back and forth, pressing her tongue along the side of him while taking him inside her mouth. The most heavenly noises were coming from him as she bobbed her head, humming every so often and that sent vibrations through him that he felt deep inside of his core. 

Hermione lifted her head and seductively let a trail of saliva drop onto his tip before using her hands to further lubricate his hard cock. That was the final straw for Draco. 

“Enough!” He all but growled as he reached down and lifted Hermione, pulling her so that she was straddling his lap. He reached down and slipped his fingers between her folds, feeling how wet she was before bringing them to his lips, his tongue collecting the sweetness that reminded him of the night before. He then angled himself and pushed inside of her.

She groaned as he filled her and she felt her walls stretching to accommodate the size of him. Once he was completely inside of her, he paused and grabbed hold of her face, tilting it so that she was looking at him. “Can I move?” She nodded her head at his question. “Yes, please…” she begged, and without another warning Draco began slamming his hips against hers. 

Hermione threw her head back as she rode him, her fingers digging into his shoulders so hard that she thought she might have pierced his skin. She looked down and felt herself clench at the sight of his cock disappearing inside of her body.

“Look at me.” Draco demanded as he pulled her hips down harder onto him with each thrust. He then lifted one hand and wrapped it around her throat, squeezing with enough pressure to slightly constrict her airways, but not enough to disallow oxygen to her brain although at this point, Hermione was sure she was hallucinating. She felt him dragging along her inner walls, and then his rhythm began to falter, as did hers.

He began pounding into her harder and harder, and she gasped when she felt him hitting her cervix. She was the first to let go. The earth stopped spinning on its axis as she dissolved into an abyss of pleasure, her vision filled with a bright white light as she came.

Draco followed soon after. “Granger…” his voice shook and Hermione felt him jerking inside her before he swore, going tense as he spilled his seed and allowed his own orgasm to take over.

He stayed buried within her for a few moments before slowly pulling out and Hermione groaned at the sudden emptiness she felt.

Draco lifted her and she flopped down onto her back beside him, both of them working to bring their breathing under control. There was silence between them but it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was peaceful and welcomed. 

“Well, good morning.” He finally said, and Hermione breathlessly laughed as she leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Good morning, indeed.” 

“Maybe I should stay over more often? Especially if that’s how I get to wake up every morning.” Hermione knew he was joking, but a part of her felt excited at the thought of spending every night beside this man. It was strange how things had so suddenly taken a turn for her. Before he found her at the burlesque club, she was completely content with her life and would happily go on as she had for the past month and a bit. 

But Draco did find her, and now she felt herself questioning whether she wanted to continue on this path she had laid out for herself, or if she needed to once again change course and set herself in a different direction. It was all too much for her to think about at this time of the morning, and it was slowly ruining her good mood. She looked over at the man beside her with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and Draco tilted his head to the side, “What’re you thinking about?” He asked.

Hermione splayed her fingers out over his chest, and she felt a spring coiling tightly somewhere in her stomach as she looked at him. “Round two?”

Draco pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek and shook his head in disbelief before rolling on top of her and sinking inside her wet heat, bringing both of them to their second climax of the day.

~*~

Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror and barely recognised the woman staring back at her. Her cheeks were flushed, but it was impossible to tell whether that was from the steam that filled her bathroom after her hot shower, the mind-blowing sex she’d had less than an hour ago, or the thought of a naked Draco Malfoy in her bedroom. Her eyes seemed larger and more awake, and also held in them an emotion that Hermione couldn’t out her finger on. 

The truth is that yes, Hermione had been perfectly content in the muggle world dancing in a burlesque club and spending time with her new muggle friends. But there was something missing, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was.

Magic.

Using magic in the muggle world is strictly forbidden, even in the comfort of one's home away from the eyes of non-magical folk. It was the one thing that Hermione had initially struggled with when switching from Wizarding to muggle London. After spending what felt like her entire childhood trying so hard to prove that she deserved to be in the Wizarding world as much as any pure blood witch or wizard, it was a tough pill for her to swallow knowing that she was willingly forfeiting her magic as long as she remained, essentially, a muggle. 

It had taken time but she’d eventually grown accustomed to her new way of life, occasionally she looked to the safe in which her vine wood wand was locked away and dreamed of casting just one spell whether that be a levitating charm or a simple lumos, anything, but by doing so she would be going against the rules clearly stated by The Ministry and that is something she just couldn’t do.

Seeing Draco and spending time with him had awakened that hunger for magic to be back in her life, and Hermione was both confused and angered by the notion. She was fine before she saw him. She had her moments, but all in all she was fine. And then Draco Malfoy had to waltz on into her burlesque club and shatter the perfectly constructed wall she had built between herself and the Wizarding world. She had spent the past few days going backwards and forwards between the pros and cons of going back into her world, into their world. And she couldn’t stand it. 

She had been content, truly she had been. And now, as tough as it was for her to admit, she didn’t have any idea of what her next move should be. 

She swiped some gloss on her lips and straightened her ivory shirt before exiting the bathroom and making her back to the bedroom. Her breath caught and she froze in the doorway at the sight in front of her.

Draco had his back to her with his arms above his head as he slipped a white collared shirt on, the muscles in his back tensing with the action. Hermione pressed her thighs together and closed her eyes, she was absolutely not going to allow herself to fall into bed with this man again. 

Today.

Draco turned and spotted her as he was doing up the buttons of the shirt and raised an eyebrow as she continued to stare. “Something the matter, Granger?”

“No, no nothing, sorry.” She mumbled as she shuffled to her dresser and spritzed herself with some perfume. “What’re your plans for the rest of the day?” 

“Our plans, you mean?” Hermione stopped and looked at him, confused by his response. He wanted to spend the day with her? In muggle London? Hadn’t he spent enough time there already?

“Here? In the muggle world? What on earth would you want to do?”

It was Draco’s turn to stop what he was doing and turn to look at Hermione. He tilted his head and his eyes held a certain mischievous look to them, and that unsettled Hermione. “Oh no, Granger, we aren’t spending the day here. You’re coming with me back to the Wizarding world.”

There was silence between them, and unlike before, this silence wasn’t welcomed. Not at all. Hermione felt her skin heat and she could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She couldn’t go back to the Wizarding world, not yet. It was still too soon. No matter how much she wanted to walk the streets of Diagon Alley or pop into The Three Broomsticks for a butter beer, she couldn’t. 

“Draco, I can’t-”

“And why not? Tell me, Granger, what excuse are you coming up with as to why you can’t spend a day, a couple of hours, in Diagon Alley.” He took a step towards her, and then another, and then another until his chest was gently pressed against hers. “What are you so afraid of that you can’t return for a visit?”

“Afraid? I am not afraid, I am simply-”

“You’re afraid, Granger. There’s no point denying it, I can see the look in your eye.” He said before leaning down and brushing his lips against her ear, his cheek pressed to hers. “Be brave, Gryffindor.”

He pulled back, and with one look at her face, Draco knew he’d won. Hermione Granger never backed down from a challenge.

“Fine.” She stomped her foot and made her way over to the safe, unlocking it and taking out her wand. She instantly felt the magic course through her when she touched the small object, and the feeling was electrifying. It was as if she were being reunited with a part of herself that she had lost, or in this case, that she had locked away. “Let’s get this over and done with.”

~*~

Draco apparated them straight to Diagon Alley, and Hermione crouched down with her head in her hands, waiting for the world to stop spinning. She hadn’t been gone that long, but for some reason she had felt extremely lightheaded when side-alonging with Draco.

She felt him crouch down next to her and place his hand on her back. “You alright?” His voice was full of genuine concern, and it shook Hermione. This whole situation was so foreign to her. She could build all the bookshelves she wanted inside her mind, but every time he spoke they crumbled. Not admitting that her school girl crush on Draco had resurfaced was like telling someone she didn’t like books. It was completely inaccurate and false.

If Hermione was honest with herself while thinking back on her relationship with Ron, she was never in love with him, not really. She knew she could never be with Draco and so she settled for what she thought was the right thing for her. She settled for a mediocre relationship with a bit she had known since she was eleven, a boy that everyone expected her to end up married to and raising a house full of children with. 

She settled for something that had no spark, no chemistry, and that didn’t satisfy her or make her happy. Hermione had tried, really tried in the months that she was with Ron but it had become clear to her very early on that this was not what she wanted. But they had been through a war together. They had fought side by side along with their best friend and defeated the most powerful dark wizard this world has known. Surely that had to account for something? Right?

She knew Ron hadn’t been happy either, maybe the thought of being with Hermione had been more appealing than actually being with her. She couldn’t blame him if that was how he felt, after all she had felt the same. She wanted to go back and just stay friends with him, it was easier that way. Although, if she had never dated Ron, they never would’ve broken up, which in turn wouldn’t have caused Hermione to flee to muggle London and become a burlesque dancer. Draco never would’ve seen her perform that night, she wouldn’t have taken him back to her apartment, and they never would’ve had the opportunity to fuck each other into her mattress. She wouldn’t be standing, well, crouching, in Diagon Alley with his hand trailing up and down her spine in a soothing motion. 

No, Hermione couldn’t bring herself to regret the past, especially when it could’ve quite possibly brought her the one person that could change her future. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just felt a little dizzy.” She said as she pushed herself back up into a standing position and Draco grabbed her waist, pulling her so their bodies were moulded together. He lifted a hand and brushed a stray piece of hair back behind her ear, resting his palm on the side of her neck where he could feel her pulse throbbing underneath the skin. 

They stared at each other for a few moments before Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face to hers. Their lips collided and the kiss was immediately deepened, Hermione was unsure by whom, but suddenly Draco’s tongue was demanding entrance into her mouth. Neither of them cared who saw them in that moment considering that they felt like the only two people in the world. The other hand that gripped Hermione’s waist tightened its hold on her, and Hermione’s fingers pulled at Draco’s platinum locks, eliciting a deep moan from his throat. There was nothing that could ruin this perfect moment-

“Hermione?” They froze, and slowly Hermione pulled away from Draco and turned to where that very familiar voice was coming from. However, instead of only seeing one person, she saw two.

Harry was standing a few feet from her and Draco, his mouth agape and eyes shifting between the two of them. Standing next to him was the one person that she truly didn’t want to see today, the one person she didn’t want to see her with Draco. Ron was pale, even more so than usual and his eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets with how widened they were. Hermione felt herself wanting to crumble at the look he was giving her. She expected him to be shocked when he saw her for the first time, but that’s not the emotion she saw. He was furious, disgusted even. His eyes, unlike Harry’s, were locked on hers.

“Harry–Ron–I-” she started, but it was at the moment that Ron remembered he too had a voice, and he was going to use it.

“Are you fucking joking?” He stalked towards her, and Draco changed his positioning by pushing her behind him and blocking Ron’s path to her. This only angered the Weasley more. “What the hell do you think you’re doing with her? What the hell are you doing with him!” His voice was raising, and Hermione felt the stares that were on them at that moment. She needed to try and de-escalate the situation, and placed her hand on Draco’s arm before stepping out from behind him and standing face to face with Ron. 

Draco knew he couldn’t stop her, and so he grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, letting her know that he was still there if she needed him. 

“Ron, listen, I-”

“No, you listen! I should’ve known that this would happen. For some unknown bloody reason you’ve always had an...an… infatuation with him!” He pointed his finger in the direction of the boy behind her, as if she wasn’t perfectly aware of who he was referring to. “I could never fucking understand it Hermione! He’s bullied you ever since you were eleven, called you filthy names, or have you forgotten about the many times he referred to you as a mudblood?”  

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt Draco’s hand squeeze hers tighter at hearing that derogatory word leave Ron’s lips. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but she was speechless, and Ron took that as his queue to continue.

“You know who his family is, Hermione! He’s a Death Eater, his father’s a Death Eater, and his father before him! Are you that fucking far gone that you have forgotten all of that?” Ron had advanced towards Hermione so that his face was now centimetres from hers and she could feel his breath blowing on her cheeks. He’d just had butterbeer.

“Ron…” Harry made to pull at his best friend's arm, finally realising that he needed to intervene but it was too little too late. Ron was on a rampage, and he had his sights set. He ripped his arm away and out of reach from Harry, and instead pointed his index finger in Hermione’s face.

“Did you forget that he cursed Katie Bell? He poisoned me! He was ordered to kill Dumbledore and let his Death Eater friends into the school!” Neither Hermione or Ron had noticed, but Draco had let go of Hermione’s hand and was now standing directly beside Ron, his eyes daring him to keep talking. And he did.

“He let you be tortured on his floor by his aunt, let you scream as Bellatrix cast the Cruciatus curse on you over and over again! He watched as she dug her dagger into your forearm and branded you as a mudblood! How fucking stupid are you, Hermione? He probably fucking enjoyed it!”

Draco grabbed Ron by the shoulders and pushed him backwards so hard that he stumbled, but by some miracle managed to regain his footing before he fell.

“Don’t you dare touch me, Death Eat-”

Draco grabbed Ron by his shirt and pulled him so that he was mere inches from his face. “I dare you to finish that fucking sentence, Weasley.” His voice didn’t shake. It was low and so full of venom that it made Hermione shiver, but not out of fear. No, definitely not out of fear.

Ron and Draco stared at each other, Draco practically begging Ron with his eyes to continue speaking. Hermione saw Ron’s throat bob as he swallowed deeply, and Draco must have noticed it as well. He scoffed and let go of his hold on Ron’s shirt before turning away and took a step back towards Hermione.

“You fucking Death Eater.” Ron hissed at Draco once he had his back turned, and Draco stopped. Hermione was staring at the look on his face and it was then that she felt afraid. But she wasn’t afraid of Draco, she was afraid for Ron, and rightly so.

Draco spun around so quickly that his form blurred and Hermione barely had time to register that he had pulled his fist back and collided it with Ron’s nose. A deafening crack could be heard as Ron fell to the ground, clutching his face in an attempt to stop the blood that was pouring from his nose.

“Don’t you fucking dare speak to me like that again, Weasley.” Draco crouched down so that he was level with Ron. “And don’t you ever speak to Hermione in that manner again. There are a lot of other bones in your body besides your fucking nose, just remember that.” Draco stood up and turned to a blank-faced Harry. “Keep him in line, Potter.” And with that, Draco turned his back and took Hermione’s hand in his before leading them away from the two boys.

Neither of them spoke, they simply walked hand in hand until Draco led them into a secluded little cafe just around the corner from Flourish & Blotts. Draco ordered a tea with honey for himself, a black coffee for Hermione and a blueberry scone for them to share considering neither of them had eaten breakfast that morning. Well, technically neither of them had eaten breakfast that morning, but they had definitely eaten something. 

The waitress brought over their order, and Hermione thanked her with a kind smile. Draco cleared his throat, and opened his mouth to say something but Hermione beat him to it.

“That wasn’t the reunion I was expecting.” He met her eyes thinking she was going to be disappointed or angry with him, but instead she seemed… amused? 

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy reunion with Ronald, but I just thought that maybe after having a couple of months to calm down he might’ve, I don’t know… handled seeing us with a little more maturity?” She sipped on her coffee, feeling the warmth spread throughout her entire body. “I guess that’s too much to ask though, especially when it comes to him.”

Draco tried to hide the smirk on his face at Hermione ranting about the immaturity of her ex boyfriend, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bring him joy hearing her refer to him in that way. 

“Will you come back?” He interrupted her, and it took a moment for Hermione to realise that he was asking her to come back to the Wizarding world. 

“I can’t, Draco. Not yet-”

“What would it take? What would I have to do to convince you to come back here and stay?”

She prolonged the last sip of her coffee before answering him, and even then she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I really love burlesque, Draco. And there’s nothing like that here, so…” her voice trailed off, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was implying.

She wasn’t going to leave muggle London. She loved the job she had there, and like she had said, there is nothing even remotely similar to that in the Wizarding world. The only way she would return is if by some miracle a burlesque club opened up for the magical folk, but Draco didn’t see that happening-

He stood up quickly, and Hermione started. “What’s wrong?” She asked, and Draco couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought of it before.

He gently took her hand and led her out of the cafe after leaving a few too many galleons on their table. Once they were back on Diagon Alley, Draco gripped her hand tight and looked at her with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. 

“I want to show you something.”

-

Rest In Peace Helen McCrory (1968-2021) 

Chapter Text

Draco led Hermione through Diagon Alley whilst ignoring all of her questions about where they were going. He weaved them through witches and wizards that had annoyingly decided to stop and stare at the couple, and Draco had to bite his tongue to hold himself back from telling them to, in not so polite terms, bugger off.

They rounded a corner and abruptly came to a halt, causing Hermione to collide with Draco’s back. “I need to apparate us now, will you be alright? Or would you like us to find a floo network that we can use?” He asked as he placed a hand delicately on Hermione’s cheek.

She had only just recovered from her dizzy spell when they apparated into Diagon Alley, and Draco was concerned that apparating again could do more damage. However Hermione insisted that she was alright now that she remembered what to expect.

“I promise I’ll be fine, Draco. Just hurry up and take us to where we need to go.” She grabbed onto his arm and pressed herself against his side, eager to know where he was taking her. “Or better yet, why don’t you just tell me where we’re going.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, assessing whether or not she was telling the truth about being okay to apparate before sighing and leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead. He breathed in the scent of vanilla and cinnamon, and was reminded distinctly of their Sixth Year at Hogwarts during a Potions lesson on Amortentia led by Professor Slughorn. 

“We’re going to Hogsmeade.” He said before giving her a warning that he was about to apparate them, and Hermione felt a tug behind her stomach and felt herself spinning. She squeezed her eyes closed and focused on her breathing, relieved when she felt her feet hit solid ground. She didn’t feel as queasy this time around because, like she had mentioned to Draco, she remembered what it was like to apparate however that didn’t mean that she didn’t still feel somewhat dizzy. She leaned against the nearest wall and upon inspecting the building it belonged to realised it was The Three Broomsticks. 

Hermione’s face lit up in excitement. She used to love going to this pub during their trips to Hogsmeade when they were at school. Her and Harry and… Ron… 

Draco watched as the joyous look Hermione had on her face dropped almost as quickly as it had appeared, and he tilted his head. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing… it’s silly, really.” She shuffled on her feet while staring at the ground and avoided making eye contact with him, but he persisted.

“No, tell me, Granger. What’s the matter?”

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms over her chest as if she were attempting to comfort herself before raising her head and looking at him. “I was just thinking about all the times I used to come here with Harry and Ron. I guess it’s just a bit upsetting because I don’t see that happening for a while…” her voice trailed off and Draco watched as she wiped away a single tear that had spilled onto her cheek.

He couldn’t understand why she was crying for Weasley and Potter of all people, however he did know how close the trio had been ever since their first year. When Hermione had left, Draco noticed a significant change in Harry’s overall demeanour. He wasn’t as energetic or enthused, and his work had suffered as a result. He’d never told Draco the reason for his sudden change, but when he discovered that Granger had left the Wizarding world, those pieces clicked into place fairly easily. 

“I’m sorry, I know you aren’t fond of Ron or Harry.” Hermione straightened her back and lifted her chin in the air. “Enough of that, now, where are we headed?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Draco hesitantly asked. There was only so much talk about those two fools that he could take without the need to be physically sick, and he was thankful when Hermione quickly shook her head.

“No, no it’s fine. Let’s go!” 

Draco smirked as he took her hand and they walked through the quiet village. A few shops had been restored since the war, but others hadn’t. The owners most likely hadn’t got around to getting their business back up and running… or… the alternative was that the shops didn’t have an owner anymore. Lots of stores had gone up for sale once the war ended, and there was one shop in particular that Hermione had fallen in love with. She had fallen in love with the space instantly but didn’t have the funds to purchase it. Even if she did, she wouldn’t have any idea what to do with it. 

In some cruel twist of fate, Draco had stopped walking and stood standing out the front of that very shop Hermione had wished she could purchase. It was still vacant and it was clear that whoever bought it hadn’t done anything with it as yet. Hermione wondered what it would become eventually, and looked forward to seeing more little stores come back to life.

Hermione was so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed Draco staring at her until he cleared his throat, and she looked up at him.

“What do you think?” He asked. Hermione narrowed her eyes, confused.

“About what?”

“About this,” he gestured to the store, as if it were obvious what he was asking her. Hermione’s eyes widened slightly. It was too much of a coincidence, and Hermione shook her head to clear the fog that had begun to form in her mind, and Draco continued, “–I bought it.”

There it was. Draco Malfoy had purchased the store that she had wished she could afford to buy herself. 

“It’s lovely. You haven’t done anything with it yet?” She couldn’t help but be curious about why he hadn’t opened up some lavish bar or the like. 

“I wasn’t sure what to do with it.” He said as he unlocked the door and they stepped inside. 

There was nothing much to it, but it had been as Hermione expected: basic with lots of potential. Her mind was going wild at the endless possibilities the space held.

“Why have you brought me here, Draco?” After inspecting the empty space, Hermione slowly turned to Draco and squinted her eyes at the sight of him staring at the floor. She walked up to him and took his hand in hers, bringing it to her lips and placing a kiss on each knuckle. She felt him relax under her touch, and heard him take a breath.

“You said that you wouldn’t come back because you’ve fallen in love with burlesque–“

“That is correct.” 

“I suppose I was wondering what your thoughts would be on starting your own club, but here in the Wizarding world?” Draco had to force the words to leave his mouth before he decided against the idea of approaching this particular topic with her. He saw her eyes widen and she dropped his hand, and Draco silently cursed himself for thinking it was even a remotely good idea.

They had barely been in contact for a week and he was already suggesting that Hermione run a club that he owned. No wonder she had stopped holding his hand, the idea was completely absurd and Draco never should’ve mentioned anything–

“Draco…”

“I shouldn’t have mentioned anything. Don’t worry about it.” He strode towards the door and opened it, and Hermione felt her heart break a little at the expression on his face, or lack of an expression on his face. 

He locked up behind them and began to make his way back towards The Three Broomsticks, when Hermione caught his arm and stopped him.

“Wait.”

Hermione gently pulled him back to her and wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing in his musky scent that she was sure her sheets would always smell of.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, I’m just shocked that you would ask me that when we’ve only just started spending time together.” Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck, and his eyes fluttered closed at the contact. He knew this would be how she would react, however he supposed now was as good a time as any to tell her the truth.

“You’re right, we have only just started spending time with each other, but do you want to know why it was so easy for me to feel comfortable around you?” He waited for Hermione to nod her head before taking her face between his hands and pressing his forehead to hers. “Whenever I went out in public, a part of me always hoped to see you. I knew you were with Weasley, but that didn’t deter me from wanting to catch just a glimpse of you in the street so that I knew you were still safe.”

Hermione held her breath as he spoke, her thoughts were a scrambled mess and she could barely think straight. He wanted to make sure she was still safe? Surely he wasn’t referring to–

“I won’t bring this up again because I know how it makes me feel, and so I can only imagine how you must feel talking about it. But that night at the Manor, I still have nightmares about it, Hermione. I can still hear you screaming and can picture Bella leaning over you, carving that–” he gestured to her left forearm where there was still a scar of what Bellatrix had written into her skin, “–into you. Everyday I wish I had stopped her, even if it cost me my own life. Seeing you like that, in pain and exposed, I never want to see that again.”

“Draco…” Hermione’s hands had slipped down from Draco’s neck and were encircled around his waist, and she pulled one back and rested it on top of his that were still on her cheek. She could feel the tears pooling in her eyes at the memory he had brought up. She tried not to think of that night, although the scar on her arm was a daily reminder and even though she could conceal it with a basic glamour charm, at the end of the day it was still there. 

Draco quickly shook his head, “No please, let me finish. I won’t be able to say this to you again.”

Hermione closed her mouth and nodded her head, encouraging him to keep talking.

He told her that he realised how he felt about her in Fourth Year at the Yule Ball. He told her how beautiful she had looked in her periwinkle dress, and from that day it had been his favourite colour. He told her that every cruel word or action directed towards her from that day was not because he enjoyed hurting her, but because he knew that if he let himself care for her, he would be putting both of their lives at risk, and he was not willing to do that. 

He knew that Voldemort was going to make a return and that he would come after Potter, and by consequence would come after her as well. If Voldemort knew of his feelings for her, the torture she received from his aunt would’ve been only a fraction of what she could’ve expected from The Dark Lord himself. Every day that he was forced to fix the Vanishing Cabinet, he thought of her. When he cursed Katie Bell not too far from where they were currently standing, he thought of her. When he let the Death Eaters into the school he hoped that she was safe in the Gryffindor Common Room and wouldn’t do anything stupid, although he knew the latter was too much to ask. When he had his wand pointed to Dumbledore, he wondered what she would think of him if she saw him like this.

All the months that the three of them were on the run, he hoped that she was okay and that they were getting closer to ending this war. When he saw her at the final battle and his mother and father had beckoned him over to the dark side, he waited to hear her voice stop him, but she didn’t.

“I knew that if anyone was going to end that war, it would’ve been you three. It was always you three.” He swallowed thickly before letting his shaking hands drop from her face and he turned his back, hoping that she wouldn’t see. 

“Draco I didn’t know that you felt like that–”

“How could you?” He spun around and softened when he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks and he wrapped his arms around her delicate frame, pulling her to his chest and resting his head atop hers. “I never gave you any reason to believe that I didn’t hate you.”

They stood there in silence for a few moments, content with the feeling of being wrapped up in each other before Hermione lifted her head to look at Draco. “I felt the same way about you, you know?”

Draco narrowed his eyes at her as she continued. “I had a crush on you from First Year, and no matter how cruel you were to me, those feelings didn’t go away.” She nuzzled her face into his chest. “As I grew older, I realised that I needed to let it go, because there was no universe in which you and I would be together. We were too different, and your family would have never accepted me. So I settled and that’s when I gravitated towards Ron.” She looked up at him again. “And then you just happened to appear at the Burlesque club I was working at.”

Draco smirked and leaned down, pressing his lips against hers. When they broke apart, Hermione pulled away from him slightly, the skin in between her eyebrows creased in thought. “How would this work, Draco? I can’t have you just give me this space.”

“Granger, I wouldn’t be handing it to you, it would still be mine as much as it would be yours. It’d be a partnership. When I bought it, I truly didn’t have an idea what to do with it, I just bought it simply because I could.” He looked to the empty space and could picture it so clearly. Bright dazzling lights, swarms of people lining up out the door, Hermione dancing in an incredibly sexy costume and then coming home with him at night. “I know now what I want to do with it. The first wizard Burlesque club.”

“But Draco, no one would come–”

“Hermione, I can guarantee that they would. Next concern?”

Hermione huffed before wildly throwing her arms in the air. “Okay, well I’d be the only dancer! And while I’m not opposed to a solo show every now and again, it would be boring after a while. There would need to be more people and it’s not like I can just bring my muggle friends here to dance with me.”

Draco thought about that for a moment. She did have a point, if this was going to work they would need more dancers than just Hermione, although the idea of having her dance solo in a little outfit for him every night was incredibly tempting, if he wanted to make this a successful business he would need more ladies. 

As Draco pondered all of his options, a black bob appeared just down from where he stood, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. He whistled and beckoned for whom he had seen to come over to where he and Hermione stood, and she did.

Pansy Parkinson all but trotted over to them, placing a brief kiss on his cheek before turning and noticing Hermione. 

“Oh, hello Granger. Long time no see.” Pansy twirled some of Hermione’s hair between her fingers, and Draco chewed his lip in an attempt not to laugh at the expression on Hermione’s face.

“What can I do for you, Draco?” Pansy looked back to him, and he cleared his throat.

“Pans, do you know what Burlesque is?”

Pansy scoffed. “Is the sky blue, Draco? Of course I know what Burlesque is. Theo couldn’t shut up about it when he came home the other night, and quite frankly, I’m beyond pissed that you guys didn’t invite me, and so is Daphne.” 

Draco assured her that next time would bring her along, and gestured to Hermione who knew exactly what he was getting at. She shook her head, but he wouldn’t let her get out of this, so she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed thickly.

“Pansy?” She looked expectantly at Hermione. “I was wondering, if Draco and I were to start a Burlesque club here in the Wizarding world, would you want to be a dancer?”

There was complete silence between the three of them, and Hermione felt her palms sweating while she waited for Pansy to answer. 

Eventually a smile spread across Pansy’s face, and she placed her hands on Hermione’s cheeks, pulling her face close to hers. “Granger, I’d be fucking honoured.”

Chapter Text

Eight Months Later

The renovations had taken a lot longer than Draco and Hermione had expected. Initially they were hoping for three months, but by April they had begun to realise that that goal was far too optimistic considering all of the work that still needed to be done.

The old carpet had been ripped up and replaced by stained wooden floorboards, a stage was built at the back of the large open space and fitted with a stage curtain, a bar complete with alcohol from both the Wizarding and muggle worlds had been installed along the side of the club, and of course a upstairs alcove had been built into separate costume, makeup and changing rooms.

Hermione and Draco’s vision had been clear and precise from the beginning. Lavish but welcoming, classic but contemporary, exclusive but not limited to specific groups. Their club was open to everyone.

After hiring Pansy as the first dancer apart from Hermione herself, it didn’t take long for word to get around about what the Granger/Malfoy duo were doing, and it was surprisingly not difficult to find girls willing to be a part of this exciting new adventure.

Ginny Weasley, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, Sally-Ann Perks, Angelina Johnson, Cho Chang, Luna Lovegood, and Susan Bones had all shown excitement and enthusiasm for the burlesque club, completing the group of ten women.

Once the club had been built and the renovations were complete, Hermione trained the girls day in and day out, teaching them all of the routines that she herself had learnt in London. Some picked it up easier than others, but all in all the entire process was hassle-free, and before they knew it, opening night was here.

Hermione was putting the final touches on her makeup before slipping into a custom outfit that Draco had had made for her and all the girls, although he enjoyed pointing out that Hermione’s was far more impressive than the others. And he wasn’t wrong.

The other girls were all to wear a gorgeous silver dress that flared outwards when they moved their hips, and was extremely flattering on all nine of them. But Draco had ignored Hermione’s protests and had the most exquisite outfit designed for her, and as she looked at herself in the mirror she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.

Her dress was golden and hugged her hips before sitting loosely at her thighs. Her breast were held tightly in place and pushed up to enhance her cleavage and the dress was encrusted with an endless amount of jewels that sparkled as they caught the light. The straps that held the dress up were also made from expensive gemstones, and further draped down the side of her arms in a rope-like fashion. She also wore a matching headpiece that sat perfectly on her curls, and slipped her feet into a pair of high red heels that were bound to give her sores and blisters by the end of the evening.

Hermione looked herself over in the mirror and had never felt more confident in her life than she did in that moment. She still didn’t believe that she was worthy of a dress as beautiful as this, but she was thankful that Draco had put so much thought into it when consulting during the design process. 

She did a quick spin and watched as the bottom of the dress flew outwards, and she giggled with joy before the sound of a low appreciative whistle stopped her. Standing in the doorway to her change room was Draco, and the sight of him was enough to take Hermione’s breath away.

He was wearing an ivory collared shirt, black trousers, a bow tie and a matching black tux with coattails and white lining. His platinum hair was combed neatly to the side, a look Hermione had learned to love, especially when she was able to push her fingers through it at the end of the night.

“Don’t you look positively ravishing, Granger.” He said as he took a step towards her, his eyes trailing down the length of her body and then back up, a smirk on his face. “I almost don’t want to let you go out there tonight.”

“But then who would lead the girls? You know they can’t do this routine on their own.” Hermione replied with an equal amount of sarcasm, and gasped as Draco grabbed her waist and pulled her roughly towards him. 

His lips crashed against hers and Hermione’s arms lifted to curl around his neck. She could feel his tongue demanding entrance into her mouth, and so she widened her lips ever so slightly and felt the wet muscle tangle with hers immediately. 

Hermione groaned as she felt Draco’s hands slide down her thighs, and slowly make their way back up, this time creeping underneath her dress and finally cupping her backside.

“Draco– oh –we shouldn’t be doing this– ohh –I need to be downstairs–five minutes–”

“And I only need two.” He spun her around and bent her over the desk that was conveniently positioned behind her. “Why do you think I pushed for you to have your own private dressing room, Granger?” His fingers deftly moved aside her knickers, exposing her slick heat and sliding them through her folds, collecting the moisture that had settled there before lifting it to his mouth. “Just as sweet as always.” He said as he sucked every last drop of her off his digits.

“Draco–please–” Hermione begged as she heard him undoing the zip of his trousers. 

Draco ran the head of his cock along her, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from her. “Shh, be a good girl and keep quiet. Even though I know how much you love to scream.”

Hermione’s eyes widened before she felt him push himself inside of her, stretching her walls to accommodate him as she did each time. And then he began to move.

It wasn’t like any other time that they’d been together. Usually they took their time and drew it out, going slow and appreciating every movement, every stroke, every noise from the other person. But this time was rougher and more urgent considering they only had a few minutes before the opening act. And Hermione loved it.

Draco slammed his hips into her repeatedly and he dug his fingers into her waist as he pulled her to meet him. 

“Fuck–Granger–you feel– fuck –amazing–” 

Hermione could feel the pressure building behind her stomach and threw her head back. “I’m close–Draco–”

His pace increased and his thrusts became harder. All you could hear was the sound of their combined heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin.

Draco reached around and firmly pressed two fingers against Hermione’s clit and sent her over the edge. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth and screamed into her palm as she shook from the intensity of her orgasm, and Draco followed soon after. He pounded into her before stilling, grunting as he emptied himself inside of her.

There was a knock at the door and Hermione heard Ginny’s muffled voice say, “‘Mione, we’re on! It’s a full house!” before the footsteps faded away. 

Draco withdrew from Hermione slowly, watching as a mix of their come began to drip out of her. He flicked his wand to clean up and pulled her back up to him, helping her straighten her dress and ensure her appearance was intact. Draco smirked.

“What is it?” Hermione turned to face him.

“I was just thinking that the flushed look suits you, Granger. Might have to do this before every show.” He leant down and placed a kiss on her forehead, then her cheek, and finally her lips. “Go out there and smash it. I’ll meet you here after.” He gave her one last kiss before turning and walking out the door, leaving Hermione alone to collect her thoughts.

“Let’s do it.” She said to herself before following the same path as Draco. She made her way down the stairs and reached the stage just as the other girls were getting into position, noticing the wink Pansy gave her as she strode past and took her own position in the centre of the stage.

The stage for the opening act has been fitted out with steps and large letters that spelt out the word BURLESQUE.

Hermione turned to the girls. “I’d just like to thank each and every one of you for putting your faith in me and joining me on this crazy idea. You’ve all trained really hard to get to where we are tonight, and I couldn’t be more proud of you. So thank you, and let’s show them how to burlesque!”

She turned back around just as the curtain was raised and was met by a chorus of cheering and applauding. Ginny hadn’t been lying, every single seat was occupied, and if Hermione strained her eyes she could make out who some of the patrons were.

She saw Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini, Molly and George Weasley, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas amongst many others and finally, her eyes fell on Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Harry had reached out to Hermione and apologised for Ron’s behaviour that day that Draco had brought her back to the Wizarding world, even though it wasn’t his apology to give, and she had told him as much. 

He had organised a meeting between Hermione and Ron at Grimmauld Place, and it had gone both as Hermione had expected, and not. There were raised voices and a few broken vases, but once the heat had died down, they had been able to work through it like mature adults. Ron had apologised for his behaviour during their relationship and the day that they had broken up. He apologised for making her feel like she had to move her things out of their apartment and that she had to move to muggle London. And finally he apologised for the way he had acted when she came back, and how he had spoken about Draco, although he made sure to point out that he still didn’t like Draco and would most likely never like him, but he accepted that Hermione was happy with him and that was that. It had been the most mature version of Ronald Weasley that Hermione had seen, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t happy to be working towards getting their friendship back.

Hermione heard the music start and quickly snapped out of her thoughts, and located Draco in the audience before the spotlight was on her.

Underneath the city lights

There is a world few know about

Where rules don’t apply, no

And you can’t keep a good girl down

Hermione ran her fingers over her body, never breaking eye contact with Draco. The music changed and the entire stage was lit up, showcasing the other girls who were snapping their fingers and moving their hips in time with the beat. Hermione put one foot in front of the other as she slowly began to descend the steps, stopping every so often to move her body against one of the other girl’s.

She comes through the club looking for a good time

Gotta make that, shake that, money on a dime

Don’t need a suga daddy, she can work it just fine

Up on the table, she’ll be dancing all night 

She spun around and bent down, running her fingers along her leg as she straightened, and she swallowed as Pansy, Ginny, Cho and Luna gathered around her.

Hit it up, get it up (Won’t let you rest)

Hit it up, get it up (This is not a test)

Hit it up, get it up (Gotta give me your best)

So get your ass up, show me how you burlesque

They slowly danced their way across the stage, all completely in sync with one another before Hermione broke apart from them and began to weave her way through tables. She stopped in front of Draco and cupped his face in her hands, leaning in close and brushing her lips against his cheek before spinning and shaking her backside for him.

A little bit of naughty, it’s a little bit nice

She’s a whole lot of glam, sweat, sugar, sex, spice

Shimmy, shimmy, strut, strut, give a little what, what

Up on the tables, we’ll be dancing all night 

She felt Draco’s hand slap her arse before she made her way to the stage to re-join the others, and bit her cheek to stop herself from laughing. When Hermione had suggested that part of the routine, she had heard no arguments from Draco whatsoever.

We say

He-eh-eh-hey

Here come the ladies ‘bout to give a little show

He-eh-eh-hey

Here go the boys, you gotta show a little more

The girls crouched down and ground their bodies against the floor, Hermione’s hands were in the air and she swayed and moved her body to finish up the act.

Hit it up, get it up (Won’t let you rest)

Hit it up, get it up (This is not a test)

The other girls quickly rose to their feet and they gathered together.

Hit it up, get it up (Gotta give me your best)

So get your ass up, show me how you burlesque

They all raised their right hand and placed their fingers against their lips in a shushing motion before the lights went out. Hermione could hear the audience loudly applauding, cheering and whistling as they all made their way back up the dressing rooms.

Once there, Hermione gathered them all into a hug. They were all shaking with excitement at the success and reception for their first performance, and Hermione slunk away to her own dressing room to let the girls change for the second act. 

Barely a minute later, Draco burst through the door and gathered Hermione up in his arms, slamming a kiss against her mouth. One arm was snaked around her waist and splayed out on her back while the other cheekily played with the hem of her dress. Hermione lifted her arms and loosely wrapped them around Draco’s neck as she kissed him, and broke away when she felt him smile.

“What is it now?” She asked, rolling her eyes and Draco chuckled.

“You were great out there, Hermione.” He said, and she felt her heart flutter.

“We all were–”

“I only had my eyes on you. And you want to know why?” He leaned his forehead against hers, not breaking eye contact. “Because I love you.”

It was the first time either of them had said those words, and Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. Nine months into their relationship and those three little words were finally out there.

“I love you too, Draco. So much.” She kissed him hard, and had never felt happier than she did in that moment.

After a moment, Draco pulled away. “You better get changed for the next routine. Go and show them what The Royale is all about.”

Chapter Text

It was a perfect day. There was not a cloud in the sky and the cool breeze was present, but not strong enough to disrupt the calmness that fell over the grounds of Malfoy Manor. The sun was beaming down on the gardens, and thanks to Narcissa, a variety of red and white roses were in full bloom while the hedges had been perfectly trimmed and the trees looked as though they had been plucked from a children’s novel.

Hermione thought she would feel different, more stressed or nervous, but as she watched the guests arrive, she had never felt more content. That was until she felt a sharp prick at the back of her head.

“Ouch!” Hermione’s hand flew upwards before it was quickly smacked away by Ginny.

“I’m sorry! It was Georgia’s fault,” Ginny apologised as she carefully inserted the last pin into Hermione’s curls. 

“That’s bullshit Gin, I wasn’t saying anything…” Hermione chose to zone out of what was sure to be another of the many squabbles that her two closest friends have had during the last seven months. Hermione knew that the two women were similar–both in looks and personality–but she was entirely unprepared for just how similar they truly were. They were practically the same person, and any doubts that Hermione had about them getting along was squashed instantly.

Of course, in every great friendship there is the occasional bickering and theirs was no exception. However in the months leading up to this day, Hermione did wonder whether eventually one of them would snap, but it never happened. 

She heard the giggling as soon as it started and she smiled at the sight of her two red-haired friends indulging in what Hermione guessed to be the third bottle of muggle champagne. 

She collected her own glass as she made her way over to the full length mirror at the opposite side of the room, but was immediately blocked by Georgia. “No, you can’t look just yet.” She demanded.

“I just want to see–”

“No.” The bluntness of her friend's reply had Hermione rolling her eyes and instead walking over to where a silver garment bag hung from a transportable steel clothes rack. She slowly ran her slender fingers along the soft fabric before undoing the zipper and revealing the most exquisite dress Hermione had ever seen. She heard both ladies gasp from behind her, but Hermione’s eyes stayed locked onto the white dress in front of her.

“‘Mione, it’s beautiful,” Ginny placed a tender hand on her shoulder, and Hermione could only nod in reply as words were not possible at that moment. 

Together the two girls helped their friend into the dress and placed a few final touches on the look before stepping back and admiring their handiwork.

“Well? Can I see myself now?” Hermione laughed nervously as Ginny and Georgia proudly stepped aside, finally granting their friend complete access to the mirror as she appraised her appearance.

Hermione was, for once, lost for words. Georgia had applied her makeup so beautifully that it hardly appeared that she was wearing any at all. Her eyelashes were both longer and darker, her cheeks rosy with a slight shimmer to her cheekbones. Her freckles were prominent, having not been hidden and her lips had a natural glossy shine to them. Her usually wild curls had been tamed by Ginny and pinned to the back of her head with a few loose strands trickling down her neck and shaping her face. Ginny had also had the idea to include some dainty white flower petals that in her words “really added to the overall look”.

And then there was her dress. She’d had it specially made at Madame Plumes, a sweet dress store in Place Cachée, Paris. The overall design of the dress was slimming and extremely flattering for Hermione’s body shape. The bodice was dotted with gems and pinched around her waist, accentuating her hourglass figure while the skirt hugged her thighs before splaying outwards in a simple train. The neckline plunged lower than Hermione had originally asked for, however the mistake had been a blessing as it allowed for her to show a little cleavage without it being deemed too inappropriate. Her sleeves ran down the length of her arm starting from her shoulders and ending at her wrists, the material clinging to her tightly, but not enough to be uncomfortable.

As she smoothed her hands along the soft fabric of her skirt, she felt tears prick at her eyes. She felt beautiful. She was beautiful.

Hermione thought back on everything that had brought them to this moment. The first time she saw Draco at the muggle burlesque club, every time he came to watch her dance after that, the first night that they had spent together and his eagerness to taste her in the Chinese restaurant, the time she returned to the Wizarding world where Draco asked her to open a burlesque club for witches and wizards, their opening night at The Royale and the success of the last 18 months. But the memory that brought her the most joy was the night Draco had taken her to a classy muggle restaurant in Paris for their anniversary last year, and the walk they took on their way back to the lavish suite Draco had arranged for them.

“Granger?” Draco asked as Hermione gazed up at the Eiffel Tower, enraptured in its beauty.

“Hm?” She was in awe of everything this city had to offer, and if she was presented with the opportunity, she would choose to never leave. She had always dreamed of visiting the city of romance ever since she was a little girl, and being here with the love of her life was something that words couldn’t describe. She felt–

“Can you please look at me for a moment?” Hermione turned around to face Draco and placed a tender hand to the side of his face, the skin between her eyebrows creasing with a hint of worry at the expression on her lover's face.

“Is everything alright, Draco?” Hermione stepped forward and pressed her body against him, knowing that that action offered him some comfort.

“Yes, no, I think so. I guess–” Draco took a step back and fed his fingers through his hair, “I suppose I just want to know if you’re happy?” He took a deep breath before meeting her eyes again. “I know I came into your life at a time that you weren’t wanting me to, and I just want to know–”

“Yes,” Draco’s head snapped up from where it had dropped to stare at his feet, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You want to know if I’m happy? If I’m happy in this life, if I’m happy with you, the answer is yes and yes.” Once again Hermione stepped forward and this time took his face between both of her palms, forcing him to continue looking at her, “I wouldn’t change anything that has happened, Draco. I’m so in love with you.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of them for a few moments before Draco cleared his throat, “Do you think you’ll feel like that forever?”

A smile spread across Hermione’s face as she leaned forward and captured his lips with hers, his tongue slipping inside her cheek out of habit and his right hand reaching down and cupping her behind through her dress. Hermione tore herself away, breathless, but continued to pepper kisses along Draco’s jaw and neck before placing a final kiss to his mouth. “Forever and whatever comes after that, Draco.”

Draco nodded slowly and peeled Hermione’s hands off him. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but her words caught in her throat as she watched him sink to one knee in front of her. “Hermione Jean Granger, I don’t believe that it was a coincidence that brought me to the burlesque club two years ago. My life was dark, and you showed me the light. And for that I consider myself to be the luckiest man in existence to be the one you love.” He reached into the inside of his blazer and pulled out a small red velvet box. He flipped open the lid and Hermione gasped when it revealed the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. The stone was large and carved into a rounded square shape with smaller stones dotting the silver band. “Granger, will you marry me?”

Hermione flung herself into Draco’s arms, almost knocking them both to the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled at the hair at the back of his head, and their lips once again collided in a moment of frenzied passion.

“Granger–” Draco tried to speak through the assault of Hermione’s lips against his, “I–need–an–answer–”. Hermione leaned back in a fit of giggles and brushed away some hair that had fallen over his face, keeping her fingers in his soft platinum hair.

“Yes, Draco. My answer will always be yes.”

The squeal of a young child brought Hermione out of her trance, and she turned to see Georgia chasing after her son, and Hermione’s godson, Hunter who had woken up from his nap just in time for Hermione to walk down the aisle. 

Ginny took her friend's hands in her own, and gave them a slight squeeze. “Are you alright, ‘Mione?” Ginny led Hermione over to the armchair in the corner of the room and knelt down in front of her, “You kind of zoned out for a moment there.”

“I’m alright, Gin. I was just thinking about when Draco proposed…” her voice trailed off as she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears again, “I just can’t believe that I’m finally about to marry him.”

“Draco Malfoy is a very lucky man, Hermione. And you are–”

A knock at the door interrupted whatever Ginny was going to say next, and a deep voice that Hermione recognised as belonging to Theordore Nott bellowed through the barrier, “If you ladies are finished painting each other’s nails and whatever else you’re supposed to be doing, my best mate is waiting at the end of the aisle for the woman he loves, so can we get this thing moving? That way we can all get back to drinking and talking shite for the rest of the day?”

Hermione laughed as Georgia yelled out that they’ll be down in a moment, and both her and Ginny slipped into their lilac bridesmaid dresses that Hermione had also had made at Madame Plumes. 

Ginny handed Hermione a bouquet of assorted flowers and together the three girls–plus Hunter–made their way down to the foyer of Malfoy Manor. They were met by Molly and Arthur Weasley who both turned into a puddle of tears as they engulfed her in a warm embrace. 

“Your parents would be so proud of you, my dear.” Molly placed a kiss on both of Hermione’s cheeks and dabbed at the stray tears that had spilled from her eyes before making her way out into the garden to take her seat with the other guests. 

“We’ll wait for you over there,” Ginny tilted her head in the direction her mother had gone and Hermione watched as her bridesmaids both made their way to the threshold she would cross in a few moments time.

“She’s right, you know.” Hermione turned to look up at Arthur, “Molly. She’s right about your parents.” Hermione had been working with mind healers for the past two years in an attempt to bring back her parents memories, but it was proving to be more difficult than she had thought. They had made some partial progress which was a good sign, her parents remembered that they had a daughter, but they still didn’t know that that daughter was Hermione.

When Draco had asked her to marry him, she started pushing the healers to work harder so that when it came to her wedding day, her parents would be able to be there and her father could walk her down the aisle. But unfortunately they were not able to restore the memories in time for the wedding, and so Hermione had asked Arthur Weasley, a second father, to accompany her and give her away to the man she loved instead.

“Thank you, Arthur.” Hermione was once again wrapped inside the arms of Mr Weasley, and after a moment he pulled away and looked her directly in the eyes.

“Are you ready?” He asked, and Hermione managed to nod her head before she was led over to rejoin Ginny and Georgia. Ginny waved her hand to signal that Hermione was ready, and the music started.

Ginny walked out first, followed by Georgia who was carrying Hunter in her arms. When Georgia was about halfway down the aisle, Hermione linked her arm with Arthur’s, took a deep breath and stepped out into the gardens.

She saw Pansy and the other girls that dance with her at The Royale, Luna and her father seated with Neville, Seamus and Dean, Parvati and Padma Patil with Angelina Johnson and her soon-to-be-husband, George Weasley. Draco’s friends were seated together, and Hermione saw the warm smile of Minerva McGonagall who was seated with Hagrid. She was nearing the gazebo and locked eyes first with Ron, then with Molly and lastly, Harry, who all gave her encouraging smiles before she turned her head and finally saw the most beautiful man waiting for her underneath the gazebo.

Draco stood with his hands clasped in front of him and wore a smart, fitted white suit with his hair combed perfectly to the side. To his right stood Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini who both gave her a quick wink as she stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Narcissa Malfoy greeted her with a warm smile as she stood in the centre of the gazebo as their officiant, and was looking stunning in a royal blue robe.

Draco walked down the three steps to meet Hermione, and Arthur lifted her left hand to place it in his before she was led up to join the rest of the wedding party.

Draco’s eyes were piercing as they bore into hers and that is how they stayed, hands clasped and staring into each other’s souls that were soon to be bound for the rest of eternity. Hermione could hear Narcissa welcoming everybody and reading through the script she had spent months preparing, ever since Draco and Hermione had asked her to marry them. 

Everything was a blur to Hermione, but at the same time, her head had never been clearer. She was marrying the love of her life, the man that she was going to spend every evening going to bed with and every morning waking up to. The man that was going to father her children, their children, the man she was going to grow old with and eventually be buried with, their souls living on together in the afterlife. 

“Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take Hermione Jean Granger to be your wife for as long as you both shall live?” Narcissa looked at her son, a wide smile on her face.

“I do.” Draco declared with no hesitation as he slipped a thin silver wedding band onto Hermione’s finger.

“And do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take my son, Draco Lucius Malfoy to be your husband for as long as you both shall live?” Narcissa’s blue eyes were now trained on her, her smile still ever present on her beautiful face.

“I do. I do.” Hermione said first to Narcissa and then to Draco, whose fingers tickled her wrists as she slipped a matching silver wedding band into his finger, a muggle tradition that she had asked to be included in their ceremony.

“I now declare you husband and wife. Draco,” Narcissa placed a hand to her son's cheek, “you may now kiss your bride.”

Draco wasted no time in the matter as he wrapped his strong arms around Hermione’s waist and pressed his lips forcefully against hers. Their guests cheered at the union, and Hermione lifted her arms and placed them around her husband's neck, deepening their kiss further. 

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless and laughing, their foreheads leaning against the others. Hermione placed her hand on Draco’s jaw, angling his head so that she could look into his eyes. “Forever?” She asked, and Draco leaned forward to kiss her cheek once more before he replied.

“Forever and whatever comes after that, Granger.”

FIN