A Change Of Pace

Here we are in the midst of yet
another huge crowd. We’ve left the Haagen-Dazs to find a long queue outside,
just as she warned me about. The taste still lingers in my mouth, that of the
ice cream and of…

Something violently jostles my
left shoulder, and I look up. A girl is running ahead of me… a girl in a
sequined tube-top that shows her midriff, high heels, and jeans low enough to
show her panty line. A very rude girl indeed. She catches up with her equally
scantily-clad friends, clustered at the entrance to the nightclub we are just
passing.

“Those girls show no manners,” I
say.

She snorts with laughter at
that.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I just thought of a joke I
heard a while back… ‘Your epidermis is showing.’ Now I’ve invented a new one,
thanks to you.”

“Which is?”

“You’re showing more epidermis
than manners.”

“Epidermis, skin, I get it,” I
say. “Somewhat clever.”

“I’m glad you think so. I know,
you’re been there, done that, and heard all those jokes… you’re a tough
audience.”

“Yes, I am.”

“That’s why I like you,” she says,
grasping my hand again, comforting me in this sea of noise and unfamiliarity.

We stroll on, into what I can
gather is the heart of London’s nightlife. I never would have guessed her to be
into this scene, the scene of Sirius Black and all the other indulgers in
drunken debauchery. You learn something
new every day, I see.

She suddenly gets an evil grin. “I
should be grateful you have a sense of humor at all, though, shouldn’t I?”

She’s getting cheeky again.
Dangerously so. “Watch it, Miss Granger. I can still have you locked up.”

She smiles again. She is smiling
too damn much tonight. “Well, Professor, I think you should know that I intend
to make the most of my last night of freedom.”

“Keep in mind that your freedom
means my embarrassment,” I say, but of course, she is not listening as she drags
me along. She has not taken me seriously at all tonight, and moreover, she is
proud of it.

We duck into another alley. “Oh,
so you’re finally come to your senses and decided to Apparate us home?”

“Uh-uh, Severus. I’m not finished
with you yet. Just one more thing, and style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">then we can go home.” She raises her
wand again. “Close your eyes.”

“Absolutely not, Miss Granger. I
will not participate in this madness any longer.” And I mean it. I make a few
strides out of the alley, away from her. But then I am enveloped by a golden
haze that gives me another headache.

“Ow—“

“I style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">told you to close your eyes.”

“So now you intend to blind me as
well?” I say, squeezing my eyes and pressing my fist again. “Do you treat all
your captives the respectfully?” The light in front of my closed lids flashes
bt ort orange, then dims to a red glow, and then to black.

“It’s safe now to open them.”

I don’t trust her. Not with an
attitude like that. I fold my arms—and notice that the material of my shirt has
changed. It’s a somewhat softer, yet thicker cloth. I run my hands down to my
hips. My trousers are different too, made of the same material, which seems to
include a little but of linen. I finally let my eyes creak open, and look down
and up again to see that I have on a black suit and dark, highly polished shoes.
I can detect the scent of leather, and see a few inches of white peeking out
from under the sleeve of the double-breasted jacket. I lift my wrist and find
that I am wearing cologne. A mild, spicy scent, probably sandalwood oil.

In spite of myself I am intrigued.
What about her? Gods, don’t tell me she’s
wearing one of those dratted midriff-baring tops…

I am pleasantly surprised. No—I am
in shock. I have never seen her like this before. A simple black sleeveless
dress with inch-wide straps, a slightly slimmed waist and some shirrs along the
skirt, which comes down to just above her knees. No pantyhose, just a pair of
dark heeled sandals that make her calves look very elegant, and a little gold
chain around her ankle. Her hair up in a French twist, her lips bright red; and
a pendant of a single long-stemmed rose, matching her lips, dangling an inch
below her collarbone, a spot of color against her creamy skin. Her perfume is
very strong again…

I shake my head. It’s time to stop
letting my intellect get trampled by my stupid boyish awe. “You are style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">not taking me nightclubbing.”

I know I’m in trouble, for her
eyes light up. “How did you know?”

“I do style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">not dance, Miss Granger.”

She frowns. “Maybe you style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">don’t, but I think you style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">should.”

“Dancing is for fools. Fools who
wait an hour in line for ice cream.” I bore my eyes into hers.

She stares right back and doesn’t
miss a beat. “And this is just the place to work off some of that ice cream, so
come on.” She pulls me along, and my idiotic feet do not
resist.