Author's Note: Hey there! Well, this is a story that was originally written for Tenten and Sasuke from Naruto. Butttt, my fellow author (princesshyuuga01) and I decided it might be time to try a new fandom and dig up this old story we wrote together. And try something new. She's so amazing! I love this interesting story we've pieced together! Anyways, let us know what you think! Thanks! :) PLEASE, PLEASE LET US KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! We might just update this thing! lol
****Also, if you like Sirius Black stories (particularity ones that are set in marauder times), check out my other story "The Blackest Dawn"! I would really appreciate reviews and support for that one as well! Thank you again! Let us know your thoughts! The more, the fast we shall update! :)
It was 12:35 am, Hermione had just finished her last dance for the night. Relieved when her last customer finally left for the night, she quickly stopped by the dressing room to change into a regular pair of jeans and a t-shirt. The t-shirt perfectly disguised her purple corset and she gladly replaced her six-inch heels with flip-flops.
She was out the back door by 1:00, keys tight in hand and way past ready to go home.
There were still customers in the club, finishing one last drink. Some of them trying to buy companionship for the rest of the night from the girls willing to be bought. It was apparent why Pansy Parkinson was the biggest money maker in the club. Those who weren't willing were still in the dressing room. Unwinding, taking off stage makeup, even making their own plans to go out and party themselves.
Hermione suddenly realized she was the only one in the shadowy parking lot behind the club, the very thought gave her an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. Making her walk much faster to reach her vehicle, clenching her keys just a little tighter.
She had strong lungs and even stronger legs, as well as a container of pepper spray in her purse. Only to be used as a last resort, of course. Being tested by the ability to defend herself was not something she was wanting to have to worry about passing tonight.
"Damn drunktards…" Hermione muttered to herself in agitation.
She was only a few yards away from her car when a shadow suddenly separated itself from the darkness and moved quickly towards her.
Hermione's heart jumped and she felt her throat tightening fast before she finally recognized the shadowy figure.
Luna Lovegood.
Her fellow stripmate went by the stage names, Moonlight or just Lovegood. It greatly depended on her mood and even more upon the stature of the clients she had to entertain for the night.
"Oh, goodness Hermione. I'm sorry...did I startle you?"
"No," Hermione lied, using the remote to unlock her car. The headlights automatically flashing, illuminating Luna ironically for a few seconds. She had thrown a robe over her own skimpy outfit, but was shivering from the chill of the night. "Is something the matter?" She then asked, not in the mood to be delayed any further.
Her last client has put her in a rather foul mood. She despised drunks, their breath stunk and proper speech was thrown in the gutter along with their disregard for personal space.
"Well...McGonagall requested that your shift be extended. There's a group of gorgeous rich guys who just walked in! They booked a private four dancer show and she's requesting you be one of the girls who dance for them!" Luna gushed, nearly blushing in sheer excitement.
The curly haired, brunette scowled, she could never understand Luna's enthusiasm when it came to their line of work. It was a little disconcerting that the blonde felt she had to force herself into liking what they did for a living. For survival.
"At this hour?" Hermione finally groaned, this was the absolute worst and last thing she wanted to hear from her friend at the moment. "Aw, Luna, I'm so exhausted and I just wanna go home! Can't you call in a favor in for your best friend and tell Madam you didn't catch me in time?"
Luna dipped her head in apology, "Sorry 'Mione, Madam McGonagall calls the shots. She specifically asked for you…"
"Dear God!" Hermione roared in anger. "You gotta be kidding me, Luna!"
"I didn't think you were the type to say no to top dollars!" Luna stuttered, yet unashamed of her assumption.
"Only when it doesn't leave me sleep-deprived. I sure hope these so said, rich and handsome men are worth it. Because, I'm just a hairsbreath away from losing it!" Hermione declared boldly as she made her way back to the back entrance of the club. Heading back for the dressing room once again.
Luna then smirked, having already ran their clients' profile by the local google, i.e. Pansy, she knew this indeed would be worth every penny made tonight.
"Well girls, Guess who's back!" Hermione announced as she re-entered the dressing room, bursting out into a gaiety of laughter when she saw Pansy and Ginny's shocked expressions.
They knew she was their biggest competition. There was just something about the aura of innocence she created that drew the customers.
"Don't you get enough of this place?" Ginny smirked as she reapplied her mascara.
Pansy clicked her tongue in response as she was straightening her hair, "You know she came back because Draco Malfoy and his friends walked in. She wants in on that money!"
Hermione rolled her eyes and sorted through her mini closet in search of an outfit to wear. "Like you wouldn't do the same, Pansy," she countered playfully.
She eventually settled on a simple black skirt that was laced with blue bows that was linked to black leggings with blue bows on the side. She completed her look with matching bra and a pair of black heels.
"This is going to be one hell of a night! It's not every day you get to privately dance for a Malfoy!" Pansy gushed, finishing up her hair.
"So this means you'll be able to pay your portion of the rent this month?" Hermione couldn't resist the urge to take a jab at her fellow brunette. "And don't forget there will be other men in the room besides what's-his-face."
She snickered and she proceeded to wave her long, chestnut locks with a styling wand.
Pansy groaned, "Aw c'mon guys, you know you love me anyways!"
"Yeah when you don't live off of us, Pig!" Ginny shot back, throwing a pair of leggings at Pansy's head.
Pansy stuck her tongue out in response, before making her grand exit, "Well, darlings, time to put on a show!"
"We should probably hop to it as well, Hermione." Ginny muttered, finishing her last stroke of lip gloss before making her way out not long after Ino.
Hermione reveled in the silence as she finished applying her makeup. She chose a deep red colored lipstick and brushed sparkles all over her perfectly tanned skin. Her goal was to make herself irresistible to these wealthy men, she reminded herself as she outlined her wide brown eyes with dark liner.
Seduction with a glim of innocence was her game.
Before she took her place, she sent Pansy, Ginny and Luna a reassuring little smile. To anyone outside their circle they seemed to enjoy stripping for men who should be at home with their wives, enjoy flaunting and tormenting their male admirers. But she knew what they really felt, of course she felt it for herself as well.
The shame and embarrassment when they came home. The filthiness of all the men that stared at them, touched them, causing them to constantly shower.
Stripping took guts.
They were fortunate enough to have McGonagall in charge of the club, she always made sure they were protected and never harassed.
It wasn't her ideal lifestyle, but Hermione figured she would just deal with the cards dealt to her. "Well, I'm not going to bring home any more money just staring…" she mumbled as she made her way to her pole.
Bleary-eyed after less than five hours' sleep, Neville Longbottom slid onto the bar stool fixing his boss Draco Malfoy with a look designed to kill his idea on the spot. Stone dead.
He took a swig of his coffee. What it lacked in heat, it more than made up for in bitterness, but he didn't bother doctoring it. He wouldn't bother finishing it, either. His mood was already ruined.
"No," he told the flaxen haired man with a tone of finality.
Draco elevated an exasperated brow and scoffed. "What do you mean by no?"
"Should I spell it out for you Malfoy?" came Neville's derisive respond. He didn't know where he found the courage to speak so boldly to the temperamental blond. But Draco had been drinking so by morning he wouldn't remember Neville's show of obvious insubordination.
Draco stirred the chilled content of his glass with his finger and sipped appreciatively, "Every guy does it at least once in his lifetime."
Longbottom's spine stiffened, not accustomed to people speaking so loosely of such immoralities and with an air of normalcy too. "Not this one."
Not now. Not ever. Decent men did not do what Malfoy was suggesting. Decent men did not frequent places like these. Neville had to swallow enough of his pride just to step into the damn building already, indulging in commercial activity with anyone even remotely associated with such a business was where he drew the line.
The idea of such a place repulsed him to the point where had brought his own coffee out of the fear of having anyone who specialized in their craft handling anything that he had to put in his mouth. He thought it highly unsanitary to purchase even sealed-packet grubs from the bar.
"Stop being prissy Longbottom, you're not getting any younger," Draco sighed.
"Getting involved with people of their trade won't ensure I get any older either," he retorted.
Draco growled and dragged a weary hand over his porcelain face. "You have two choices, either you pick a chick and get laid or a chick picks you and you get laid," he told him frankly.
"I don't see how the first option differs from the second," Neville took another sip from his coffee, cringing this time.
"It doesn't," he confided, "But either way, you're leaving here a man tonight. You're far too old to be a virgin."
"I'm saving myself for marriage," Neville declared, but somehow his voice lacked conviction.
"That's complete hogwash," Harry exclaimed, reminding them of his presence. He too worked under Malfoy at Slytherin Incorp, since the take over of Gryffindor. "Wives like experienced husbands, can you imagine having your bride telling you how to—"
"—enough!" Neville cut him off, blushing bright red. "It's not a crime wanting your first time to be special."
Draco snickered, "What's more special that getting it on with a stripper for the first time?"
"Paying for such a thing is dirty."
Goyle yawned loudly, deciding to join the conversation. He was Malfoy's right hand man. "The truth is, the dirtier the better."
Neville shuddered, his morals were deeply ingrained in him. His upbringing wasn't just something he could discredit, he was after all a Longbottom, heir to his family's dynasty. He couldn't risk tainting his image by being caught in the middle of a scandal with some cheap stripper.
He was not the sexually deprived man his friends clearly thought he was. He had gone twenty-five years without intimacy and he was prepared to go another twenty-five without it. It wasn't to say that he didn't feel the occasion tug in his loins whenever he was in the company of a beautiful woman but his principles kept him from acting on any sexual impulse. 'Getting laid' as Draco puts it was not on his agenda.
His business was his life and the harsh economic climate of Hogwarts had fucked him over too many times for him to still claim his virginity. He had no room in his already busy life for a woman, one-night stand or otherwise. In fact he was losing dollars by simply coming here instead of hopping on his laptop to correspond with investors.
But he honestly thought his friends had invited him out to celebrate his promotion. Only to find out that they brought him to some strip club to frolic with hussies who were 95% plastic, 5% expensive mascara and face paint.
Draco was suddenly raising from his seat, smirking at a greying woman with steely eyes beneath a pair of glasses.
Neville drew in a startled breath. Damn it, if he didn't know any better he would have thought the woman was the Madam.
"Good evening Mr. Malfoy, the party of four you requested for your private entertainment is ready," she informed Draco politely.
Neville gaped, he was right.
"Alright McGonagall. Just give us a moment, we'll be in shortly," Draco returned equally as formal.
Once she disappeared out of earshot, Draco shot Neville a condescending look. "Your fate has already been decided Longbottom. Tonight, you're getting laid."