Synopsis:Hermione's been hiding out in Vegas for 4 years, until Harry and Ron take her back to England. Can they convince her to change her wild ways? Not without the help of George Weasley, it seems. George makes a bet with Harry and Ron that he can transform this wild Hermione into a woman of class in time for the survivor's banquet, which was three months away. Can he do it? Will he be able to tame the wild beast? Or will he find himself lured into her spell?

HELLO LOVELY READERS!

So... I'm writing a new story! (Finally) It's been a while, but I had the urge recently! Honestly, I'm throwing this chapter out there to see if it would be something people want to read. I have bits and pieces written already, but it's in the early stages! So please read and let me know what you think!

I took many liberties with characters, friendships, basically everything Harry Potterish. :) That's my right, as a writer! Unfortunately, I don't own them. Not really. I'll leave that for the lovely JKR. But I do wish I had a pair of Weasleys, all my own. :)

I'll stop stalling now :) Read on, my lovelies!


It had been a long couple of days. Harry Potter and his best friend, Ron Weasley, had received a call in the Auror's Office about possible Death Eater activity in the United States. Wanting to impress the Minister with his newly elevated position as the head of the Auror's, Harry convinced his brother-in-law to accompany him. What followed was a wild goose chase across the Pacific Northwest, but three days into their journey they caught Rodolphus Lestrange hiding out in a cave on Mount Rainier. Apparently, he had been attempting to find American witches and wizards to believe the Dark Lord was still in existence. Harry thought he was seriously delusional. After sending off the prisoner to Azkaban, the duo decided to stay behind in the States for a few more days. Tucked away in the corner of a local bar, Harry and Ron clinked their glasses of Whiskey together before knocking them back.

"You know, Harry, I've been thinking….Why don't we take a trip to Las Vegas, Nevada before we leave? I've heard that's a fun place to go. It could be good for a laugh. What'd'ya say?"

Harry thought it over. He would love to visit Vegas. That city was even notorious in the wizarding community. The city never slept. You could stay out all night and always have something to do. Harry had never gambled, but he wasn't against trying it. Plus there was the provocative nature to the city that drew his attention. He loved his wife more than life, but he was a 23 year old man. He had defeated Voldemort twice. Wasn't it time to live a little? Act his age? He grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

"I think that's a brilliant idea, mate. I need to call Ginny though. You should probably call Megan."

Ron nodded slowly, then produced a cell phone from his jacket pocket. It was customary these days for Harry and Ron to carry Muggle technology. It was more convenient for their duties. Actually, the whole Weasley family was forced into carrying them when Arthur discovered their uses while running tests on them in the Ministry. His love for all things Muggle had actually paid off this time around. Harry grabbed the phone from his hand and dialed his wife's number. He motioned for another drink while the phone rang. Ginny picked up soon after.

"Hey, Gin. I was just calling to tell you we caught 'em."

His wife's voice sounded sleepy on the other end.

"That's great, Harry. When are you coming home?"

"Well, that's why I'm calling. Now, Ginny, don't get mad, but it rarely happens that we're in the United States… and we want to make a stop on the way home. It'll only take a few days…"

Ginny paused on the phone. Harry could hear the sound of her fingers tapping on the counter-top.

"You're going to that Vegas place, aren't you."

Harry laughed nervously, running his hands through his locks of dark hair.

"Yes, we are. It's just some harmless fun, Gin, I promise you. We will be back home in two days."

Harry heard Ginny's soft giggle over the phone, then the whispering voices of another female.

"Harry, have fun. You deserve some time off! Tell Ron that Megan says hello… and that he's not allowed to do anything stupid. You, on the other hand, my darling husband, buy yourself a lap dance or something. Because remember… look. But don't touch! Or I'll hex your balls off when you get home. I love you! See you in a few days!"

The phone clicked on the other line, leaving Harry dumbfounded. He shook his head and let out a short chuckle, tossing the phone back to Ron.

"Your fiancee says don't do anything stupid. But my wife told me to get a lap dance."

Ron choked on his drink, alcohol trickling down his chin as he sputtered and coughed.

"You're a lucky bloke, Harry. Well then, that's settled. Shall we go?"

Ron was out of his seat in an instant, tossing a few bills down on the table. Harry followed him outside and into a dark alley. Ron raised an eyebrow expectantly and Harry placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt the familiar pull of the ground whipping away from him and the world spinning around him. A few seconds later, the pair landed in another dark alley. The scenery had vastly changed from the wintery scenery of Washington. The two straightened out their clothing and crept out of the alley, only to be stopped by the sight before them. The lights of Vegas were in full effect. Muggles were swarming all over the streets, some stumbling back and forth from the effects of whatever they drank that evening. Harry checked his watch. It was nearing midnight, and yet there were hoards of people gathering outside of casinos and clubs up and down the strip. Ron wore a huge grin and dragged Harry along behind a crowd of young women dressed in sparkling dresses and teetering heels. Harry chuckled at Ron's enthusiasm.

As they walked along, Harry surveyed his surroundings. A fountain shot up in front on a posh-looking hotel. The people exiting that building were dressed to the nines. Harry saw Bellagio in shining lights upon the side of the building. Ron was transfixed with the group of women in front of them, so Harry jogged to catch up. He scanned the skyline as they walked. Eventually, Ron got bored following the women since they had no exact stop in mind. The duo slipped inside the Treasure Island Casino and surveyed their surroundings. They wandered past groups of Muggles playing different card and dice games, Muggles perched upon the seats in front of slot machines, until they found two open bar stools. They sat and ordered two tumblers of Whiskey. Harry turned to Ron, who was watching every person who passed by them.

"So what do you think, Ron? What should be our plan of action?"

Ron turned back to Harry as their drinks arrived, handing a bill to the bartender. He slid a glass to Harry and sipped from his own.

"I'm all for following beautiful women around, but it's tiring. I don't know how to gamble, so I don't want to try, because I'll lose money I can't afford to lose. So I say we find a strip club. That way, you can get your lap dance that Ginny so generously offered to you, I can watch beautiful women without following them around, and we can drink ourselves into oblivion. Sound good to you?"

Harry laughed and tipped his glass in a salute to Ron before draining what was left in it. The two ventured off in search of the perfect spot. They traveled off the strip and came across a vast property with enticing blue lights flashing on the building. There was a small line forming outside the door, mostly men. Ron clapped Harry on the back and rushed to join the line. When they made it to the front, a burly security guard waved them past. The entryway to the club was adorned in dark colors and the always present shade of blue. Ron was standing in front a scantily clad brunette who was waving them forward.

"Welcome to Sapphire! Let me show you to your table."

The girl's hips swayed as she pushed open a door to the club and led them to a table near the stage. Harry and Ron looked around them. It seemed that there were women at every table, some in less clothing than others. Some were dancing, some were serving drinks, and some were just flirting with the patrons. But there were women EVERYWHERE. Harry grinned and nudged Ron in the shoulder.

"Good choice, mate!"

A dark-skinned beauty approached the table and took their drink orders. Ron specifically requested to keep them coming. As they settled in and watched the action around them, a voice boomed over the music.

"Ladies, there is a male strip show about to begin in the Stage Room on the left. Gentlemen, if you would bring your attention to the front stage, it is time to introducing our headlining ladies tonight! For your viewing pleasure, let me give you a taste of our sweet Honey, exotic Cinnamon, and, of course, may I introduce... the innocent Penelope!"

The room went dark, and three spotlights lit the stage. Honey, a shapely red-head, stood in the left spotlight. She wore a pair of pink boyshorts and a matching bustier. Cinnamon, a petite girl with dark hair, stood in the right spotlight. She wore a skimpy, leopard print bikini. The middle spotlight was empty, but a low chant started across the crowd. Penelope, Penelope, Penelope! Honey and Cinnamon approached two poles on either side of the spotlight and began a slow swing around the pole. A hole under the spotlight opened up, and someone ascended from below the stage. Men were on their feet cheering, stomping, and throwing money. The noise was thunderous. Harry and Ron stood to get a better view. A small woman was now visible in the spotlight. Her straight, platinum blonde hair fell around her lower back, her long bangs almost obscuring her eyes. She wore a pair a Daisy Dukes and a skimpy University of Nevada t-shirt.

Harry and Ron approached the stage to watch the show and the girls twirled around the various poles, ground up against each other, removed articles of clothing, as well as shimmying and shaking for the crowd. Harry had long since decided that he wanted a lap dance from HER. Penelope. Whoever she was, Harry wanted her grinding on his junk. He caught the arm of a nearby waitress and whispered his request in her ear. She smiled and nodded, walking off toward where Harry assumed backstage was. He returned his gaze to the hypnotic dancing on stage. He and Ron had drunk their fair share of Whiskey, and the edges of Harry's vision were beginning to seem fuzzy. He removed his glasses and tucked them away, deciding he had no need for them anymore. A few more drinks, and he was good and drunk. His words were slurred, his vision blurry, and he was finding it difficult to stand. The show on stage came to a close, and Harry and Ron collapsed into their chairs, grinning from ear to ear. Ron called a pretty brunette over and requested a lap dance, ignoring the raised eyebrow Harry shot his way. His look was short-lived, though, as Penelope was walking his way. She had changed into a sapphire-colored dress that clung to every curve. It left little to the imagination, as the hem stopped barely below the curve of her supple behind. Harry sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes raking over her body. Penelope swung a leg over Harry's, straddling his lap and leaning close to his ear.

"I heard you wanted my company."

She leaned back and shook her head lightly, swinging her hair across her back. The swell of her breasts drew Harry's eyes downward until a hand cupped his chin. Her hips rocked slowly against his and he groaned. Harry met Penelope's eyes. Her big, brown, innocent eyes. And when he met her eyes, he froze. He knew those eyes. He gripped Penelope's hips and stood up, landing her on the floor. Ron stopped the girl on his lap and stood up as well, looking aghast as Harry's behavior.

"Bloody hell, Harry! What are you doing?"

Harry grabbed for his glasses in his pocket, shaking away the drunken haze from his vision. Ron grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her up. He shrugged out of his grasp and walked over to Harry, who was slipping his glasses on. She smiled softly and leaned in close.

"Guess you caught me."

She turned back to Ron and pulled him into a huge hug. Ron's eyes went wide, searching Harry's face for the answer. When Penelope let go, she took a step back from the two men.

"Well how the fuck are you guys?! I haven't seen you in years!"

Ron's jaw dropped to the floor as Harry groaned. It's been four years since either one have them have seen or heard from their best friend, Hermione Granger, and here she was, looking totally unrecognizable, working in a strip club. Ron was gaping like a fish, but anger was evident in Harry's voice.

"How the fuck are we? That's what you have to say? That's it?! Hermione, we looked for you. A whole FUCKING year we spent searching everywhere for you!"

Penelope, Hermione rather, blinked and grinned stupidly. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Look. I'm off in an hour. Stick around. We can talk later."

She waved a waitress over and asked her to bring them a bottle of some sort of champagne, introducing them as old friends. She waved and walked away toward the private boxes. When she was gone, Ron turned on Harry.

"Hermione? That was Hermione? Bloody hell, Harry…."

Harry nodded, falling back into his chair. He'd never be able to explain this one to Ginny. The waitress returned with the bottle and two glasses. Harry grabbed one quickly and drank deeply, willing the memory of her perky breasts from his mind.