Looking around at what had once been a large empty space, the beautiful witch smiled to herself despite the physical pain which seemed to emanate from every pore of her sculptured body.
'Good job everyone' she said honestly, addressing the room of weary looking volunteers, "It's fabulous. No..." she said quietly now, smiling to herself, "it's magical."
Within a matter of minutes the room was empty of people and Hermione Granger found herself alone, sitting atop the magnificent stage leaning against an amplifier. It had taken eleven long hours but they had finally managed to transform the downtown London club into a beautiful up-market entertainment venue. The ceiling had been adorned with hundreds of sparkling gold and silver stars and, as she sat staring up, she was reminded of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, a sad smile escaping her lips. Things had certainly changed dramatically over the past five years, now twenty-two years old her future had taken a decidedly different course to what she had written in her "where I'll be five years from now" mock-prophecy which all Hogwarts students had completed in their final year of school.
She remembered the times where she had imagined herself at about this age. She was a healer, engaged to her life-partner and friend Ron Weasley who had a great job under his father at the ministry. Sometimes she longed for that life, it had at one stage been practically offered to her on a sliver platter and then she had refused. Yes, it was a shock to everyone, Hermione Granger refusing the future she had always been so certain of, but of course they understood. After the war everything had changed in Hermione's eyes, she no longer saw the magical world as a wonderful, interesting and challenging place – it was now filled with sorrow and mourning and loss.
So here she sat, atop the stage in the muggle nightclub on which they had used only sheer hard work and determination to create the beautiful decorations and magical atmosphere. She was currently operating as a freelance party planner and most of her work involved PR jobs for charitable organizations. The room in which she sat now would tomorrow night be filled with people from all over the country who had come to watch the band 'Base Addicts' (who Hermione had never heard of) perform, with seventy percent of proceeds being donated to the cancer research foundation.
She loved her job most of the time and it was suited to Hermione in many ways as more often than not it presented a challenge and had a decidedly unselfish nature attached to it. She was not paid much but this never bothered her. She managed to maintain a comfortable lifestyle in her London flat which she shared with her two cats Neville and Luna, and was often given the odd holiday, most recently to France, as a bonus from the sponsors who admired her hard work and dedication. However, Hermione found that her current existence lacked the excitement that she had thrived on in the magical word. The discovery and adventure of the wizarding world were regularly the subjects of her dreams and she often awoke in the morning out of breath yet tremendously happy – that was what she missed.
The club was packed with people and Hermione could hardly move as she struggled through the masses of youths waving their hands in the air, chanting out-of time lyrics and trying adamantly to capture the attention of the three men on stage. Hermione held her breath as she ducked under the sweaty arms of a group of several men and made her way past the girls who were screaming declarations of love to the lead singer. Reaching the bar Hermione propped herself on the metal stool, ordered a drink from the bartender and then turned to watch the performance. This definitely was not her kind of music, she thought to herself, as the song came to the end with a screeching guitar solo. Paying for her drink Hermione brought the sweet pink liquid to her lips as the finale song started. Unlike the others, this one had a much more somber and poetic consistency to it. The lyrics told of lost love and moving away, and whether it was the alcohol or the flooding memories Hermione didn't know, but she found herself swaying hypnotically along with the crowd as the torrent of emotion she had been holding back for so very long washed over her: "it's time to go, I've stayed to long, There's nothing here for me anymore…I'd love to stay, and hold your hand, but you will be just fine without me."
The band bowed to the tremendous round of applause and the girls in the front row screamed once more as the lead singer took of his white t-shirt and threw it into the crowd. Then the trio disappeared back stage and Hermione realized it was her time to take to the mic. The crowd was thinning already as the well-dressed, curly haired woman took to the stage. "Boys and Girls," she said steadily "before you go I would just like to remind you all that donations to the cancer research foundation can be made in the envelopes by the door on your way out. Thank you all for your wonderful support of this very worthy cause. Have a good night." The crowd cheered once again and people began exciting the packed establishment, some donating on their way out.
When everyone had left Hermione and the other staff members relaxed on the been bags sipping on cocktails and generally having a good time. The members of the band were due to join them soon and Hermione found herself becoming the slightest bit nervous. She didn't know why but that final song had really struck a cord with her and despite herself she, like the girls who had screamed in the front row, found herself thinking of ways to impress the lead singer.
She had grown into a beautiful woman over the years. Her hair which had been frizzy and untamable throughout school had now discovered the wonderful world of straightening tongs. Her GHD was definitely a prized possession as well as a necessity and she used it to created soft flowing hair which was definitely the envy of all her friends. Both her face and body had matured, her cheekbones rivaled those of top catwalk models whilst her waist and curvaceous hips gave her a beautiful womanly figure. Without knowing it Hermione managed to capture the hearts of almost every man she met, however since the loss of her boyfriend Ron in the war she had been unable to open herself again to another man.
She snapped out of her thoughts suddenly as she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Looking up from her comfy position on the beanbag she found herself staring into the eyes of the extremely handsome lead singer.
"Do you know where a muggle can get a drink" he whispered into her ear.
"Sure," she said smiling, "the bars still open. I can recommend the…." She stopped in her tracks realizing what he had said to her, a faint smile playing upon his lips.
She studied the man in front of her carefully dark skinned and dark haired, it couldn't be him and yet she knew it was.
"Malfoy?" she whispered.
"Please Granger, call me Drake. Drake Malone"