A/N: This is a repost of the story, I tried to get all the spelling errors... I own only the dance moves I described below as I use them quite frequently (unfortunetly)...Enjoy !
She was going to murder Ginny Weasley. Downright hex her into oblivion. Of all the underhanded, scheming, sinister...Slytherin acts the young witch could do, she just HAD to do this. Leaving her to fend for herself. The nerve!
She was going to...to...to...resort to physical violence she would!
"Wazyourname again?" She could smell the rum on his breath even if he was shouting in her ear.
" Hermione," she said curtly, not turning her attention to the person sitting next to her.
"Herm-knee? What an unusual name..." the man mumbled.
She didn't even bother correcting him. This was the fourth time she'd told him her name, and 'Herm-knee' was the closest he had come thus far.
"Excuse me," she said standing abruptly, effectively waving off his advancing hands, finally deciding to ditch the table she had been left to guard.
"All right, but you better come back Herm!"
She wasn't even going to dignify that one with a response.
She made her way to the dance floor, but was rather positive she'd be unlucky in finding the head of red hair she sought.
Standing on her tippy-toes STILL didn't ensure her enough height to see the top of the crowd.
"Brilliant," she muttered to herself. Gathering her bearings, Hermione forged through the nearest opening on the dance floor. She was immediately stalled between two backs gyrating to the beat of the hypnotic song played by the disc jockey. Placing a hand in front of her and ducking her head slightly to avoid the lash of long hair that near about whipped her in the face; she bravely took another step forward. She made her way slowly through the immensely packed crowd, attempting to ignore the couple clearly copulating only two steps away from her. She was bumped into, gyrated against, and inadvertently (well she told herself it was inadvertent anyways) felt up by strangers. It was hot, sticky and sweaty, and why on earth Ginny would have thought to bring her to a muggle club for her 20th birthday was beyond Hermione's comprehension.
No amount of alcohol would ever get Hermione's inhibitions low enough to dance as foolishly as these muggles were - not that she had had much - which wasn't for a lack of trying on Ginny's part. Thinking back to the beginning of the evening, Hermione was beginning to question her lack of inebriation, as she was beginning to the think those shots would have made the night pass more smoothly.
"It's your bloody birthday - Have another shot." Ginny had said holding a shot of vodka to Hermione's mouth. Hermione made a face and turned her head, returning to her gin and tonic in front of her.
"I can't do anymore." she said ignoring the pleading glares she was receiving from the little witch.
"Bullshit!" Ginny exclaimed loudly, then promptly downing the shot herself - without so much as a chaser.
"Ginny, slow down, it's not even midnight and you've already had 7 drinks." Hermione said looking her friend over worryingly. Ginny was swaying slightly in her seat.
"Better question is why haven't you have MORE to drink?" Ron exclaimed taking a seat next to Hermione. "S'not like you have anything to do tomorrow but laze around!" He indicated for the waitress to make her way over. Ginny and Ron both ordered another round of shots. Hermione looked apprehensively at the pair, but said nothing- what was the harm in another round of shots for her friends?
A lot apparently, because promptly after the shots of - what had Ron called it? Liquid Cocaine (wasn't that a drug?),- Ron headed to the dance floor in search of Harry and a couple of hot muggles, and Ginny grabbed the first pair of boys walking past, dragging one to the dance floor, leaving Hermione with drunken company that couldn't get her name right when it was sounded out for him.
With a wink over her shoulder, Hermione had barely heard Ginny say "Have fun you two," before disappearing into the crowd. Hermione was left to guard the tables...and her thigh.
Civility left her mind however as she attempted to make her way through the dance floor.
After her space was sufficiently invaded by the bloke a few minutes earlier at the table, Hermione was back to cursing Ginny and her bright idea when she found herself sandwiched between two guys intent on touching her as much as possible.
She made to grab her wand but let out a frustrated growl when she realized it had been checked with her coat.
"Dammit Ginny," she cursed as she forcibly shoved one of her partner's off of her.
Wiggling out of the grip of the other, Hermione continued along the dance floor, now simply looking for the nearest exit. The tempo of the dancing changed with the song. The slow songs were met with exaggerated head bops from the crowd as they all seemed to snuggle up closer to one another (if that was even possible), rocking against whoever was nearest to the beat. Faster songs required more bouncing from the crowd as they kept up with the tempo of the beat. Hips shook, butt's bounced, feet stomped and arms made for assumingly sexy dancing accessories. However to Hermione it made the crowd appear as though they were pole dancing…without out the pole.
Hermione found herself surrounded, unable to move left or right. In front of her was a couple, with the man's hands under his partners bum lifting in such a suggestive way, that Hermione felt a little pervy for having watched for the second she had. Hermione made to retreat but backed into a solid form. She felt an arm snake around her waist to steady her. It was a gentle touch, nothing inappropriate.
She felt the body behind her shift slightly. She jumped when she felt a hot breath tickle her ear - but not in an unpleasant way.
"Would you like to dance," he said gently, not moving until she answered.
She nodded her head, but did not move (hey he asked...it's up to him to initiate!).
He moved his hips to the left on the downbeat of the song, guiding her along with him in his arms. She put up no resistance, and silenced her fear of being a poor dancer.
Soon enough she lost herself in the pull of the song and his gentle sways of her hips.
She barely noticed when he had encircled his other arm around her and pulled her closer to him so that she rested flat against his front. As the song changed to one of a faster tempo, Hermione found herself helping her partner along with the music, moving at her own pace - but matching his. She pressed into him more, suddenly finding the contact with the body exhilarating - possibly because she had no idea who he was.
She kept moving but longed to turn around to see her partner. But she didn't.
Perhaps it was the fear that once she turned around the connection between their bodies would be lost; perhaps it was out of fear that there would be no attraction.
She lost track of time dancing with her mystery man, realizing only that the dance floor had become a very hot place.
The actions of the couple before appeared to have been tame in comparison to the level of sexual tension that could be achieved between complete strangers.
The dancers around her were dripping sweat, with hair sticking to their faces. Hermione realized with a little sorrow that she likely looked the same (why she had spent hours on her hair in that case was beyond her, it was a miracle that her partner had not been engulfed by the mass atop her head).
She sighed at her state of un-sexiness and looked to the floor at her feet, shifting in rhythm with the body behind her. Of her own accord Hermione turned herself slowly into the welcoming arms of her partner, circling her arms around his waist, and enjoying the feeling of his arms resting gently just above her arse.
She rested her head against his shoulder, facing the crook of his neck, simply allowing herself to feel the texture of the stubble upon his chin. He continued to move them slowly no longer to the beat of the music - but to a beat of their own.
They swished softly from side to side, a sight of tenderness among a mass of sex.
Picking up his rhythm Hermione once again lost herself in the music - until she felt his lips upon her forehead.
His lips were feathery soft, making their way gently downwards. Hermione closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards to meet him at the mouth for a kiss that was long overdue.
The kiss was chaste, nothing in comparison to the couple surrounding them. But it was powerful. It sent a tingle through her lips, making its way slowly to her toes.
Throwing caution to the wind - Hell it was only her 20th birthday once - Hermione poured her heart into his lips.
She gave him everything she had left in her. The wizarding world long behind her, Hermione kissed away her past relationship with Ron, the war they had barely won, the curses she had endured. She kissed away the feeling of the weight of the world that still remained on her shoulders - finding it poetic that she was kissing a stranger to the world she was attempting to escape.
Feeling his hands on the underside of her bum, Hermione took the opportunity to break for air and examine her mysterious partner.
The first sight that greeted her as she opened her eyes was a pair of thoroughly kissed lips. Rosy and slightly bruised, with a smudge of her lip colouring left over. Her eyes travelled up slowly, as she became acutely aware of her partner's hands leave her backside.
Her eyes were greeted with a pair of emerald green eyes, a pair of eyes she knew so well.
Pulling back slightly, Hermione's world came crashing down on her.
She had -
But she couldn't have -
But he didn't want-
Why did they-
How could they-
Her mind was no longer processing coherent thoughts as her mind narrowed down to the feel of his lips on hers and the loss of his hands on her backside.
Her eyes dropped down to see the hands in question, which were bundled at his side, as he often did in anger - fisting his shirt in effort to keep his temper at bay – he was angry for kissing her.
Not daring to look at his face, Hermione detangled herself from him, and turned around. Half expecting him to stop her - to keep her there - to let her explain - to let her apologize for what had happened - she made her way off the dance floor.
He didn't stop her.
Moving through the throngs of people and their overly sexualized dancing, Hermione realized with a pained heart that she wished she were still among them.
Searching her pockets as she left the dance floor, she cursed herself for giving her coat stub to Ginny for fear of losing it before the end of the night.
"Well bloody good that did!" She muttered to herself as she made her way away from the dance floor.
Resolving to wallow in her own self pity, Hermione walked towards the exit, ignoring the glances and catcalls from the horny blokes wishing she was drunk enough to be easy.
Hermione felt a cool breeze and suddenly longed for her coat again - almost as much as she longed for Harry's arms around her waist.
She glanced momentarily at the line waiting to get into the club, wishing she had never come tonight.
What had she done? She had kissed her best friend after gyrating with him for well over an hour on the dance floor, with her ex boyfriend and his ex girlfriend somewhere near them. She kissed him with intention...she kissed him expecting more than just kisses later.
And she would do it again if she had the chance.
And he had dropped his hands as though she burnt him when he realized who she was.
He had wanted nothing to do with her.
And that stung more than anything else combined.
She had always found Harry attractive, his many adoring fans proved that much, but she had never paid much mind.
But now she could not get it off her mind.
His eyes, piercing into her soul as though he could read her thoughts.
His lips, as though they had been made specifically to kiss hers.
His hands, gently moving along her waist, down her backside, just short of improper.
And his hands clenched at his side in anger over the fact that he had just snogged his best friend, and his other best friends ex girlfriend.
"Bloody fuck!" she cursed lightly. The breeze whipped lightly, sending goosebumps across her flesh, "Bloody double fuck," she said wrapping her arms around her and backing against the wall top gather her thoughts.
As her back made contact with the cold brick behind her, Hermione felt the first drop of rain.
"Bloody double fucking brilliant!" Hermione swore louder that time. It was London...of course it would rain- it ALWAYS rained in London - why should the night that she had just spent kissing her best friend and promptly left the overly hot club without a coat in September mean that it wouldn't rain? Why should the gods give her a break?
Attempting to make herself as flat against the wall as possible Hermione tried to ignore the slowly building downpour.
"You'll catch your death standing in weather like this without a coat," she felt warmth enclose her as a coat draped lightly over her shoulders, effectively blocking the wind and rain.
She didn't need to look up to recognize the voice.
"Hermione-"
"Harry-"
Stopping themselves at the same time, Hermione realized that this was possibly one of the most awkward moments she and Harry had ever experienced.
"You go first," they said simultaneously.
Hermione chuckled in spite of herself, reminded strongly of the muggle romantic comedies she used to love.
She nodded to him to speak; fearing that her words would not make sense should she speak them out loud.
"I'm sorry." he said simply.
She still hadn't looked up, but was staring at his shoes, a pair of shoes she couldn't believe she hadn't recognized while they had been dancing.
"Please, don't let my stupidity ruin our friendship." To this she did look up, confusion written in her eyes.
He clearly misunderstood the meaning of her confusion.
"I'm really sorry we kissed. I hadn't meant for things to progress like that. When I saw you on the dance floor, I knew that I had to dance with you. I'm not sure what it was, but something about you tonight...it just made me desire you. So I took the opportunity when your back was turned - which was terrible of me. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that!"
"Harry-"
"No, let me finish." he said waving his hand to silence her. "I should not have crossed that line - the line that was drawn so long ago - but I did, and I'm truly sorry. If you want to redraw it, I'll get you a quill right now!" his eyes were pleading with her, begging her forgiveness. His eyes held so much emotion, so much power, so much sadness - with a hint of desire. The weather was almost mimicking the anguish Harry was sporting on his face.
The rain was picking up speed, Harry's hair was matted to his head now, drops of water were steadily falling off his chin. Hermione was certain she looked the same.
"Harry, that line was drawn years ago. It was drawn in sand and never intended to cross. After tonight,-" she drew in a long breath for what she was about to say, "I don't think it'll ever be redrawn. We will never be the same." Hurt was written all over his face. It made her heart break, in that second before she spoke again, she realized that she could never cause Harry this much pain without ripping out her own soul. She realized that she had spent the last years of her life working for his happiness…and would gladly spend all the time in the world making Harry happy. "And I don't want it redrawn - because I'm glad it was crossed." She was once again staring at her feet, hoping her words would go over well.
She felt a pair of arms circle her waist. The rain had fully drenched them now, his coat being completely useless to her! Looking up the same rain was fogging his glasses, now making it impossible to read his emotions- but she didn't need to. He kissed her forehead, like he had on the dance floor, making her shudder from the warmth - making him that much more desirable.
He slowly made his way back to her mouth, relishing in the wetness of her skin.
It was an odd cooling sensation she was feeling as he kissed his way down her face, refreshing yet oh-so enticing at the same time.
When their lips finally met, Hermione gave the kiss everything she had - deciding that the kissing Harry as a stranger in the club was nothing compared to kissing Harry under the falling rain.
"What do you say we take this somewhere dryer?" Harry asked finally breaking contact from her lips. Hermione moaned in protest, but allowed herself to be pulled away from the wall. Realizing he was leading her back into the club, Hermione stopped him.
To his quizzical look, Hermione said with a suggestive smile, "Let's take this somewhere more...private, while we're at it!"
He returned with an equally suggestive smirk.
She was going to thank Ginny Weasley she was. Buy her presents until she was buried under them. Of all the underhanded, sneaky...almost Slytherin things Ginny could have done...Hermione was glad she had been left to fend for herself!
I hope you all enjoyed this (again for anyone who's read it once).
Swinging hips, Bouncing butts and stomping feet for everyone who reviewed (i.e much love)
AFH