Hermione slowly slid her slim finger around the rim of her glass, her eyes mesmerized by the large crowd before her. Bodies pressed so tightly together it was hard to tell where one started, and the other ended. The music was thumping loudly, and though Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to hear a single thing the next morning, tonight would be worth it.
He was late, again, she noted as she glanced down at her small wristwatch. He liked to make her wait, in all manner of things, and she should have known not to arrive at the exact time they agreed on.

She shut her eyes, her lips parted slightly as she inhaled the essence of Hernado's. A mix of sweat, sex and alcohol; three things Hermione Granger had always been told to stay away from. She was a good girl; she studied hard for her university classes, she helped arrange both Harry and Ron's weddings to the loves of their lives, and she made a valiant effort to help bring the new magical world to its feet after the fall of Voldemort.
However, there were just some days that she needed this. She needed some sort of release.
Hermione took another sip of her vodka, then set down the glass on the dirty old table, sighing as she continued to wait in the darkness.

Draco slid silently through the back alleys and decrepit housing. Thankfully, the night was on the verge of a storm, and no one he knew would be out stalking amongst the garbage. At least, he wouldn't run into anyone outside; he always saw someone at Hernado's.
The small club was located near the woods, and for a small stretch of the journey, he would have to run across an open field, clutching his cloak tightly to his chest. However, once he stopped at the moldy old wooden door, he was safe. Casually, Draco leaned against it, knocking three times, then waiting, the silence of the night air contrasting the dull pound of music from deep inside the old, magical building.
There came a grunt from behind his only barrier to her, and he leaned close once more, muttering, "I was sent by Joe."

Draco waited, then let out a growl, rummaging through his pockets to find his small key into the building; a match. A Muggle item, no less. He struck it on the stone wall, watching it ignite, then die when he dropped it to the wet dirt, stomping it out hastily.
There was a small pause, then Draco smirked when he heard the locks clicking open from the inside, and he instantly slipped into the warm tunnel, falling into a dim light. The torches lit the stairwell to the best of their ability, and as Draco shrugged off his cloak and stuffed it into the hand of his attendant, he wondered whether or not she was going to be there yet.
Of course she would be inside; she always was.

Alas, and his thoughts were proven true once again. He spotted numerous men, all of which he had gone to school with, hanging around the spacious bar, or in a private booth with a lady of their choice. It was not just the male portion of his classmates that he spotted, since he did note there were several girls, many of which he only knew by appearance, with dates of their own, doing things that would make their mothers shriek in their graves. Draco grinned and nodded his greetings to a few of them who caught his eye, but he didn't stay to chat. Not that they would have wanted him to or anything. His goal sat near the back of the club, closest to the stairs that led the well paying costumers to the flats above.

She was not someone he would be seen around in broad daylight on any other normal day. Hermione Granger was an annoying little chit who made his school life Hell, especially in these damn university classes his father ordered he take. Since the Dark Lord had fallen, the Malfoys needed to reestablish that they could function in the new world. So, naturally, Draco had to suffer through whatever plans his father concocted from the depths of his home. Draco wished Lucius could just go out and do whatever he wanted, but the old man was on house arrest, which meant Draco and his mother needed to do everything for him.
Not that his mother minded; she loved the old git.

Back to Granger. His eyes studied her as he gently pushed past couple. She was different outside of school; her hair was loose, her skirts were short, and her vulgar know-it-all attitude was left to rot with the books.
He had met her here once, and he couldn't resist trying her. It had been her first venture to Hernando's, and she meekly explained, when asked, that she was just curious. It was then he noticed the difference from her confident school persona, and this delicious one. He offered to satisfy her curiosity, and after some time, she agreed. They had met there ever since.

"You're quite late," Hermione commented when he was close enough, "I was about to leave."
"Of course you were," he chuckled, his gaze, traveling down to the dip of her shirt's neckline, "Good thing I got here then, isn't it?"
Hermione flushed, then downed the rest of her drink, "I can't stay the entire night, Malfoy. I have a Transfigurations essay to proofread before I hand it in tomorrow... Mind you, so do you. Why did we pick tonight? I think we-"
"Bloody Hell, Granger," Draco groaned, rolling his eyes, "This is the place where you don't think. Remember? We decided you weren't allowed to, or you're going to ruin this."
"I most certainly will not ruin this-"
"You're killing it for me, Granger."

Hermione pursed her lips sourly, then stalked past him, with all thoughts of just leaving him right then and there. Draco let out a snarl, then reached out, snatching her up before she could get too far. She let out a surprised gasp as he led her onto the dance floor; their game had begun.
The dance began slow; a seduction. His hands were always on her, as hers never left his shoulders, only on the occasion to touch his face, or when he twirled her out.
Hermione had never done things like this before, but it wasn't as if Draco was playing on years of experience. They went to Hogwarts; it's not like any of the students ever had sex-capades while inside the castle. Who had time for things like that anyway?
Draco moved on instinct, while Hermione followed his lead, for once not thinking about what would happen next.
The tempo began to quicken, and Hermione felt her breath becoming shorter as Draco sped up, their bodies molded together in the midst of other dancing couples.

"Draco?" she whispered, her lips accidentally nudging against his ear, causing his grip to suddenly tighten on her hips, "I can't stay late..."
"Fine," he grunted, pushing her through the crowd with no sense of musical beat; the dance had ended - the seduction was over, she had been seduced.
They barely made it inside a new hallway before Draco has shoved her up against a wall, hungrily tearing at her flimsy shirt. The act itself was always animalistic between the two; strong personalities drew the best out of people.
Though Draco liked to believe he was in charge, it was Hermione that controlled the passion. It was from her lips that she urged him to take her roughly, gently, or slowly, and to both of their shock, he usually listened.

Another drunken couple stumbled past the two, but they hardly pay them any mind in the heat of their own passion. There was a new rhythm for the pair; desire. A forbidden desire at that.
It was over far too quickly, but when it was, the spell had completely stopped. Hermione tenderly eased herself away from Draco, flattening out her hair as she picked up her discarded shirt on the floor, cleaning it off a little before slipping it back on.
"When next, Granger?" Draco asked as he leaned back against the wall, his pants righted and hair fixed. Hermione shrugged, "I don't know... Next week?"
"Can you wait until then?"
Her eyes flickered up to his, and she noticed he was smirking. With a glare, she sneered, "Oh, I'm sure I'll manage to survive."
"You sure?" he asked again, chuckling, "Will you be able to focus in school with me sitting right behind you?"
"There are over a hundred other witches and wizards in our class, Malfoy?" she snapped, crossing her arms, "You're never behind me."
"Not yet, anyway. We should try it sometime."
Hermione wrinkled her nose at him, obviously not pleased, then went to leave, her head still a little loopy from the recent activity. Draco watched for a moment, then reached out and caught her arm again, dragging her back, her shocked eyes meeting his, "I'll see you at school then, Granger?"

Oh, they would see each other. But they would not notice each other. Hermione would continue to work with Harry, Ron had declined the offer to join a university, and she would make the valiant effort to fire back something clever whenever Malfoy sneered at them. Draco, on the other hand, would go along pretending he would never associate himself with people like Granger and Potter.
"Yes," she murmured, standing up on the tips of her toes, giving him a soft kiss, "I'll see you at school."
As she snuck off through the crowd of people, Draco watched with mild interest. Everyone knew each other, though no one would say a word of this place. This... Hernando's Hideaway.

Ole.