Spellbound (Dramione Smut Story)

Chapter Fifteen

Hermione

I squeezed my body through the crowd of excited women, dragging a busty and scantily clad woman with fake auburn hair behind me. Her name was Peony Write, and her actual body was alcohol-intoxicated and laying outside a bar across the street from the strip club. Ron had taken the liberty of nabbing some clothes from a shop in Diagon Alley and plucking a hair from the wasted Ms. Write's head. I had a brew of polyjuice potion off-hand at all times for special occasions. This occasion seemed pretty special.

"Hey, wait up, 'Mione!" Ron hissed, his voice nasal and atrocious. Peony Write did not sound like a fun person to invite to tea.

"Ron-" Peony's drag-dolled up face stretched horrifically. I grimaced, but understood. "Sorry- Peony. Hurry up! I'd like to get close to him!"

Peony's chest heaved, her decorative and entirely silicone breasts wobbling uncertainly. "I can't run in these things!" Ron hissed, gesturing sharply to his eight inch heels.

"You chose that outfit!"

"Well, I thought maybe they'd be more comfortable! You girls wear these monsters all the time, don't you?"

"Only if our occupation is Broke Hooker!"

"Well, you know what-"

"Shh!" I hissed as the lights began to dim and an automated announcement sounded from the ceiling. That typically meant two minutes until show. I dragged Ron behind me as I stole into the third row, squeezing his big rump between two girls who were just as wasted as the real Peony White was- only they had the ability to remain upright. Ron hiked up his brassiere and huffed beside me.

"I thought you hated this guy," he muttered.

I sighed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. "I do."

"So... Why do you want to stand so close to the stage?"

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "It's... Complicated," I mumbled, more to myself than to him.

The lights were fading. A nervous knot tied itself in my stomach. I silently scolded myself. This was no time to be self-conscious! He fell for me. I left him. All I was doing was innocently watching a show.... A strip show. His strip show, surrounded by a good hundred drunk women who all wanted to get into his pants like I had, but only for a night.

I sighed, wrapping my arms around myself. What would have happened if I hadn't run away? Would he have stayed with me? Would he have cared for me like he promised he would before taking off the mask? If we stayed together, would we have gotten to know each other better? I forced myself back to the present as the lights went out completely. My spine forced itself in a straight line. Just because I was a mess on the inside didn't mean I was about to show it on the outside.

The stage was set up as a long catwalk, much larger than the last stage I had seen him on. I waited until the first light came on. A drum beat from a speaker. Lights flashed on at the end of the stage to illuminate him. My heart twisted in my chest. He looked beautiful. Another drum beat. His foot came forward, planting itself on the ground. Drum beat-step. Pause. Wait....

Girls cheered around him as took his wand out from his back pocket, spinning it expertly in his hand. Drum beat-step. Pause. Hold....The tip of Draco's wand disappeared down the front of his pants momentarily. This was a show like I had never seen before. It was... artistic.

Drum beat- step- WAIT! Turn, left foot down- Oh! My heart pounded relentlessly in my chest. I felt such a sudden urge to have him, just to take him right on the stage as he slowly brought his hands above his heads. His turn had left his back to the audience. His hips swayed gently in a circle as his back muscles flexed.