Pulsing

The enchanting couple entered the bar, walking right past the line of witches and wizards gathered on the streets. It was one of the perks of being well-known, he said. They were perfectly suited for each other. Opposites really; like fire and ice. They never backed down from one another. They saw each other as equals. They worked together on projects and solved problems, complimenting each other's strengths and compensating for each other's weakness. They were beyond compatible.

They moved towards the bar, ordering a round of drinks. The bartender was a youngish wizards with golden blond shaggy hair and honey colored eyes. He was dressed in all black, but still somehow managed to look natural in his outfit. Looking around, she noticed that all of the staff dressed in black and shades of grey, but each had retained their own style. It was no wonder Draco liked this place. It was perfectly posh and hip, while remaining classy and timeless somehow. The floor was dark and sleek, the sitting areas shaded and private. She could barely make out half of the other patrons' faces, but it was comfortable not alarming.

The bartender returned with her cocktail and his Firewhisky, neat. Draco tapped the bar and told the gentleman to start his tab.

Tonight was her first night out on the town. It was something she never gave great thought to until recently, but it was unmistakable that she grew up too fast to enjoy a lot of the normal activities of a teenage girl. Whatever that meant, she snorted to herself. She had attended parties and get-togethers and even snuck out a few times, using the window in her parents' old house, but never had she been in some place so provocative, pulsing with energy.

"Everyone here is magical. That's why you can…feel it." Draco read her thoughts, summing up perfectly the tangible energy that was floating around them, hugging their bodies, further forcing them into the each others arms.

She smiled up at him, nodding. She wasn't going to disagree or challenge him. She had seen many acts of wizardry being preformed around the bar: martinis stirring themselves, hair color changing at the blink of an eye, a shot glass levitating over a bride-to-be. Magic everywhere.

And between him and me? Magic, she thought.

Tipping the rest of his drink back, he smirked down and her. The handsome blond stepped off of his perch and grabbed the young witch's hand.

"Dance with me, love?"

She was apprehensive. She could, of course, follow a simple box step at a ball or event, but she wasn't a natural dancer. She felt disoriented, graceless when she danced. She was a woman that needed to be led. When Draco suggested they go dancing and demanded that she dressed up, she had assumed that he meant they would go out to a chintzy place-a place to tango, waltz, or some other ballroom arrangement. She didn't expect this place. She hadn't imagined these beats, this music. The dance floor was full, but not crowded and she could make out couples dancing together, slow and sensually to the beats. One couple seemed to be trying to melt into one person. She thought it looked like the most alluring motion, two bodies becoming one, much like lovely music-fueled sex. The music rocked through her body and she felt it tingle up her spine.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

She swallowed thickly and grabbed for his hand. The smile Draco shot at her was blinding. Even if she hadn't accepted his hand, she could have easily been persuaded by a flash of his pearly brights. His face lit up in an unexplainable way whenever he smiled. It was rare, it was a special sight saved only for her.

He moved before her, clutching her hand as he wove through the mesh of swaying bodies to the centre of the dance floor. She was caught in his rip current, drowning in him. It was wonderful. She couldn't tell if it was her drink or the loud music or the intoxication in all of the magic, but her limbs felt light and airy. She tried to get her footing, tried to catch the beat, but she was failing miserably.

He grabbed her waist and showed her the rhythm. Yes, yes, yes. She never felt lost in his arms.

He spun her around, her feet leaving the ground briefly. It was a silly, childish move, but she laughed and smiled.

Who knew that she'd enjoy this sort of thing?

Draco. That's who knew, she reminded herself.

She glanced up at the wonderful dancer in front of her. His eyes were shut as he swayed his hips and moved his feet. He looked lost in the streams of music. He looked happy and at ease. He was her opposite; so ease in society while she was awkward and hadn't grown into herself yet.

He smiled down at her, "Just let go, Hermione. It's okay."

He twirled her a little bit, again, making her laugh. He pulled her flush to him and kissed her deeply. She moaned into him. No one could hear but him. Even in this pulsating crowd of witches and wizards, she was his. He pushed her soft, curly hair back over her shoulder and turned her body gently so her back was pressed against his chest.

Draco's arms encircled Hermione's form, his hands resting on her hipbones. She sighed. She was content to just stand in his arms.

As the song switched, he helped her locate the bass, swaying along to the subtle thud, thud, thud. She gave into him, letting him lead her. She was always too proud to let her other boyfriends take lead in these situations, but she was different with Draco. She wanted him to take control. His hips gyrated against her and she blushed thinking about what would come after they left this club. She let her head fall back onto his shoulder, her arm coming up to grab his neck as they dipped lower towards the floor.

He nipped at her neck, mumbling in her ear.

"You're delicious."

"Mmm."

"You're a natural." He purred. She rolled her eyes up at him, snorting softly. His hands traced her side. Shivers went up Hermione's back as she arched forward and away. He grabbed her tighter and pulled her back to him, smiling.

"You're not getting away so easily, Granger."

These days he only used her surname when he mocked her. She smiled, knowing he couldn't see her face. She kept moving seductively to the rhythms, grinding backwards against him. He groaned in her ear.

"What do you do to me…" It wasn't a question, so much as a statement. Draco wanted her, he always did, but moments like this put him on an even higher alert. She didn't get how sexy she was, how much her natural charm got to him, how much he truly yearned for her.

"Draco." She breathed out, turning around to face him before dragging him off the dance floor, away from the bar they originally sat at. They moved deeper into the dark, finding an unoccupied nook.

She moved to sit on the deep plum chaise she found, dragging him down with her. His body was flush with hers, inclined only slightly along the single arm of the lounge.

"Oh god," he breathed out, his lips crashing down on hers. She pressed up against him, relishing in the feeling of his body. Draco was good at so many things-dancing, smiling, kissing. Was there anything he was bad at? Unlikely.

Hermione felt his hands on her knees, spreading them slightly. She let him settle gently between them. His hand rested on her knee, silently asking permission to continue. She nudged him up, latching her lips onto his collar bone, just beneath the edge of his button down. He sighed contently. She giggled, his hand edging upwards towards her most special places. His fingers traces the top of her stockings. They were lace edged, held up by garters, and she felt him smile against her cheek as he made the discovery. He needed her now. No waiting.

"Let's get out of here, love." He suggested.