Ultimate Experience Part I : Passion

Chapter 2



Hermione’s astonished eyes swept what felt like a hundredth time across the club she had been dragged to just over an hour ago. Prior to her arrival she was already informed that the establishment was of a non-Muggle origin. Nevertheless, even with such a tidbit of information, she was unable to prevent herself from the initial shock that hit her the moment she crossed the threshold of what was to be her place of entertainment for the night.

As any self-esteemed club, the "Dragon Pearl" was located on the subsurface of an awe-inspiring territory that fit right in with its name. Steady music played leisurely around the chamber giving an impression of pulsating through the floor and ceiling itself (Hermione had a theory that it actually was), wrapping its every occupant in a cocoon of sound and rhythm. Contrary to the sheer seize of the place, the red plush interior and dim glow of levitating candles created an ambience of sheer intimacy.

When the first dancers of the night appeared on the stage located right in the center of the floor, Hermione's jaw went slack. For all intents and purposes the “Dragon Pearl” appeared to be a place of diversion for all genders and orientations. One could freely choose to either watch bewitching women wind themselves around their poles or gorgeous half-naked men doing more or less the same beside them.

All things considered, the most peculiar thing of all was the actual music. Instead of a variety that Hermione was more or less accustomed to on a number of ventures to Muggle night clubs, she was now assailed by a much slower and softer music genre; something between a classical and modern breed. It was actually quite...intoxicating.

'So...what do you think?'

Hermione resurfaced from her reverie and looked into the green eyes of the young man in front of her.

'It's...unusual,' answered she carefully. Indeed, one didn't wish to appear foolishly flabbergasted after so fervently fighting against the actual idea of coming in the first place. Harry Potter, however, just winked at her with a knowing smile.

Unable to conceal her positive mood any longer, Hermione grinned back. Looking now at the casually dressed young man lounging lazily upon the lavish sofa it was hard to see the wizard that conquered Voldemort over four years ago. Very few individuals were able to see the hardness that still lurked within his vibrant eyes. Nevertheless, he was none other but the most revered wizard on this half of the hemisphere, whose stardom could rival only Merlin's himself.

The same wizard was also Hermione’s best friend and who presently sat with his arm draped casually over Ginny Potter’s slender shoulder. Their marriage was probably the sole factor that kept Harry from turning into a snob nowadays. His young wife's genetics gave her an undisputed talent for keeping her husband firmly under her heel...which she kept reminding him - lovingly - each day.

'Apparently, this is the top venue for anyone who is part of the top wizarding society. The Daily Prophet said so in last's week issue.'

Neville's timid response came from Hermione's right where he sat sharing the couch with her. Barely anything changed about him since his school years and he physically appeared to be the same plump boyishly looking man he always were. The only exception was that now he was Professor Longbottom, teacher of Herbology at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To top it all, Hermione's ex-dormmate Parvati, who sat on his other side, was now his rightful wife and the love of his life.

Observing the two loved-up couples before her, Hermione was unable to prevent a pang of envy that coursed through her at that moment. Even though she was wholeheartedly happy for her friends it felt somehow...unequal to be sitting among them alone. Despite that, she did not blame Ginny in the slightest for inviting her to what initially appeared to be a couple's night-out. Strength was indeed in numbers and there was barely a wizard or witch left who wasn't informed that Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley had broken off their engagement three months ago.

Her heart gave off another pang of sadness but Hermione stubbornly refused to let melancholy overwhelm her now. In the end, if she allowed herself to be finally pulled out of the work she lately buried herself in, she could manage to start enjoying the small pleasure of life again.

On that thought the young witch smoothed down the material of her dress along her thigh, enjoying the touch of the soft red material under her fingers. The front was modest enough. It managed to reveal just the right amount of cleavage to be tantalizing and its length demurely stopped just above her knees. However, the same could not be said about her back. She still could not fathom how her female friend managed to bully her into getting into it in the first place. Yet if expressions on men's faces at her appearance tonight were any indication, the outfit wasn't that bad, after all.


With a self-encouraging smile tugging at her lips Hermione's eyes once more glided along the area of the club just to abruptly stop as she spied the last thing she wished to see at that moment of time. The fiery hair colour that she instantly distinguished within the sea of people could have belonged only to one certain wizard clan. The height of that individual, however, cast no doubt what Weasley family member had decided to grace the same club as her that night.

At first, Ginny observed with a slightly raised eyebrow how Hermione snatched her first cocktail. Unlike some, the young Auror’s indulging tastes never had a tendency to lie with alcohol. Her incredulous expression was steadily replaced by anxiety as she watched the contents of a third tumbler quickly disappear down Hermione’s throat. Finally, a realization clicked in her head and her eyes widened in understanding.

'He’s here, isn’t he?'

Hermione only spared her a quick torturous glance in return, being too preoccupied at the moment by her fourth drink.

Harry, who attentively observed their exchange, turned his head towards where Hermione’s eyes were constantly darting.

'Shit.'

He saw Ron as well.

'Ok, just try to calm yourself down and ignore him, Hermione,' advised Ginny, patting her friend's hand in comfort over the table. The younger witch most probably started to feel guilty herself for making a promise concerning her over-persistent brother that she wasn't really in power to keep.

'Ignore him?' scoffed the curly haired witch. 'How could I possibly ignore that pompous son of a bitch?'

All the while, she was trying in vain to climb onto her feet but as the words of what she had said finally reached her brain she flopped back into her seat. The palm of her hand slapped rather inelegantly over her mouth as shining brown eyes filled with horror.

'Oh, no! I did not wish to insult your mother, Ginny! She's not a bitch, I give you my word!'

Her friend could only roll her eyes but before she could have formulated a more audible response another voice washed over their small group.

'Well, well...What a surprise. Not a place I would have wagered to represent the almighty house of Gryffindor.'

With a sharpness that could have given pride to any drunkard, Hermione, who managed to stand back up to this point, turned with just a minimum of a stumble. Once she was positive that she no longer wobbled, she chanced to lift her head.

Just as she thought.

Brown eyes clashed with grey ones over a distance of mere feet from each other.

Facing her was none other than Lucius Malfoy himself.



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