Encore
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction using characters and settings from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J.K. Rowling. This story is for entertainment only and not part of any official storyline.
Author's Note: This story is going to be about twelve chapters, all of which are complete already. I will be posting every few days until the entire story is complete. For those of you waiting ever so patiently for an update on my other story "Reclaiming the House," (and to those not waiting so patiently) I am working on it. I've hit a slight road block with moving to a new state, packing then unpacking. Some how I managed to lose my charging cable for my laptop. Anyways... We're back in business now and I'll try and get my next chapter out in the next two weeks. But back to Encore, Hope you enjoy this slightly ridiculous, didn't know you needed, story!
The prologue will be the shortest chapter, all others should be about 1500 words.
Prologue:
The chill of the metal pole sent shivers down Hermione's scantily dressed body. She arched her back up, as she gracefully wrapped one high heeled leg around the silver instrument of seduction before lifting her other leg and twirling down, until her bum hit the floor gently. The pulse of the music surrounded Hermione, as she unwrapped one leg at a time, teasing the male guests with a glimpse of her barely there knickers. It was exhilarating. She had never been one for attention, preparing to hang in the back as Harry led the charge. But this... This stage had no Harry. Only the thum of music in her chest and the deep scent of arousal.
She sighed internally, as a burley bouncer grabbed a heavily intoxicated male for attempting to jump on the stage. The drunk flashed her a wink and even as he was being pulled away, tossed her a bill. She smiled coquettishly and continued her routine even as the noise increased from the men in the dimly lit area. It would surely ruin all of her hard work if a drunk groped her instead of the two dark haired men she had planned for. She stole a quick look at said men sitting side by side, neither arguing or hexing each other. A sight she never thought she'd see. Instead, they seemed to be unable to look away.
Carefully, Hermione bent at the waist in her too tall heels and grabbed an ankle with each hand. She slid her hands slowly up her calves teasingly before moving to her thighs. Flipping her hair in an unnaturally dramatic fashion, she grinned cheekily, as a third wave of hoots and hollers filled the club. Her hands reached the top of the pleated skirt and she moved them to her back where the release that would make the tight material slide down her hips. She flicked it open and watched, as every man including hers, shifted in their seats. The fabric hit the floor. Stepping out of it, she used her heeled foot to flip it towards the table directly in front of the stage. Their table. She watched them suck in deep breathes. They seemed to both adjust a second time in their chairs, her men no longer sitting relaxed in their seats. Oh no. relaxed was not how she wanted them. She wanted to see them sweat.
She wanted to see them agree that she was the best damn thing about living at Grimmauld house.
Tonight, she planned on having her way.