A/N: There's a whole lot of penis in this chapter. Seriously. Move along if you're under eighteen. Also, let's see who catches my homage to a true Dramione classic, "Pound of Flesh", in this chapter.

"Mione…." Ginny stumbled up to her, glass of champagne held tight in her hand.

"No."

"You can't just say 'no'," Ginny whined. "You don't even know what I was going to say!"

"I'm saying no to 'Mione'," Hermione told her. "I don't do nicknames. You know this."

"But it's my night, and I'm drunk," Ginny pouted.

"No excuses." Hermione said.

"Fine, Hermione," Ginny said, plopping down on the booth, and dropping her head onto Hermione's shoulder. "I have a bone to pick with you."

"Apropos for our setting to be picking bones," Hermione joked, waving a hand around the strip club..

"Huh?" Ginny just blinked back owlishly.

Hermione shook her head. "Nevermind. What's wrong? Are you not having fun?"

"No, I'm not."

"What? Why not?"

"They're not naked!" Ginny shouted. "You promised me naked Muggle men!"

Hermione looked towards the shirtless man grinding his, albeit still covered, crotch in a random woman's face.

"Gin, they're pretty naked to me."

"Well, not to me!" Ginny said, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. "Sure, they take their clothes off, but not their little underwear! I wanna see their…. You know. Their things!"

Hermione burst out laughing. "Ginny, are you sure you're ready to get married? You can't even say the word 'penis', or goodness, at least say 'cock'!"

"Oh, shut up," Ginny slurred before extricating herself from the booth, and toddling over to join the other ladies by the stage.

Hermione sighed. She had reserved two large booths that sat eight a piece, complete with bottle service, but so far, she was the only one making use of them. Ignoring the champagne bottles, Hermione picked up her seltzer water with a lime twist. She'd made a promise not to drink tonight. It wouldn't do for the one in charge to get drunk and lose her head. Leave that to the bride.

At the very least, the others seemed to be enjoying themselves. The Carrow twins were so close, they were practically leaning on the stage, fat wads of pound notes clenched in their fists, watching the dancers with awestruck eyes. Romilda was grinning saucily at every male in the place, even the waiters. Ginny crowed with delight as the current dancer on stage through his shirt out to the crowd. Poor Luna could do little more than gawk as it landed on her head.

"Did you see that?" Ginny screamed as she ran back to the Hermione's booth. "That was awesome!"

"I saw," Hermione said with a grimace. "Some strange man's sweaty shirt on my face is not my idea of awesome though."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're being such a buzzkill, Mi- Hermione."

"I'm sorry, Ginny, really, I am," Hermione said. "This just isn't my thing. The music gives me a headache."

"Then why did you plan to bring us here?" Ginny asked. "We could have just stayed at your flat."

"And deprive you of naked Muggles on your hen night?" Hermione laughed. "Not likely!"

Ginny picked up Hermione's seltzer, and sniffed it, before setting it back down in disgust. "Look at this! You're not even drinking!"

"I want to keep a clear head while I'm in charge," Hermione said.

"Surely a glass or two of champagne won't hurt!" Ginny argued. "Besides, we're not apparating. I want you to drink. No, I need you to drink. It's an order of the bride."

"But-"

"No buts." Ginny poured her a flute of champagne.

Hermione eyed it warily. "Can't I just wait till we get back to my flat?"

"No."

"Fine," Hermione huffed. "One drink and you'll leave me alone?"

"Probably not," Ginny replied.

"I'm really not comfortable with this," Hermione said, grazing the flute's stem with her fingertips.

"Yeah, tonight I don't care," Ginny smirked. "I want you to loosen up and have some fun with us. All of us are doing it."

Hermione felt like she was in some bad after school TV special. "Peer pressure? Really? I don't have to drink to have fun and be cool, you know."

Ginny was not deterred. "Apparently you do, because you're not being very fun right now."

"Bitch."

"Bride," Ginny corrected, sticking out her tongue.

"Very mature," Hermione said. She picked up her flute, tapped it lightly to Ginny's in a toast, and downed the whole thing in one long gulp.

"Now it's a party!" Ginny cried. "Oh, waiter! Do you have any vodka?"

"Ginny, since when do you know about vodka?" Hermione asked quietly so that the shirtless waiter wouldn't hear and start asking uncomfortable questions.

"I've been researching what Muggles do for fun, duh," Ginny whispered.

An hour later, and Hermione was feeling very tipsy indeed. She was also wearing a tiara, Ginny's tiara in fact. In keeping with the Muggle hen night theme, Ginny had insisted that she wear a sash and tiara to let everyone know that she was a bachelorette for the night. Hermione was just grateful that the tiara wasn't made up of little penises like some of the ones she had seen.

She had yet to leave the comfort of the booth, but Ginny had rounded up the ladies to come back for a couple of rounds of vodka shots. Well, all except for Imogene, who seemed to have disappeared right after the fireman's dance. Hermione should probably look in to that, but right now, she just couldn't be arsed. Mixing champagne and vodka could do that to a girl.

The way things were going, Hermione didn't think the ladies would be willing to leave the strip club. So far, they had seen a policeman, the fireman, some kind of Army man, and even a jungle man. The gaggle of witches had gotten especially rowdy when a gorgeous blonde magician had performed, complete with flowing cape and magic wand, though not the wand that Ginny was still desperate to see. The bride to be had been overheard contemplating asking said magician for one of those private dances she'd heard about, all in the hopes of seeing at least one truly naked man tonight. Hermione shuddered to think about how many Galleons from Harry's vault an exposed penis would cost.

Ginny plopped down beside her in a huff. "Well, turns out it's only, like, forty pounds for a private dance. That's not too much, is it?"

"Um, that sounds a little pricey," Hermione said. "I guess it depends on what your paying for."

"Not his… thingy," Ginny pouted. "This isn't 'that kind of establishment'. All he does is sit on my lap and wiggle. What's the point of that?"

Hermione giggled. "I'm sure he does more than wiggles, Gin, or else private dances wouldn't be so popular. The real question is why are you so desperate to see another man's penis? You have a penis in your life. You're marrying that penis in a week."

"Ugh, don't remind me!" Ginny groaned. "Don't get me wrong, I love Harry. And I love his… thingy-"

"Say it."

"No. I can't!"

"Please, you grew up with six brothers," Hermione scoffed. "Surely you've been around enough penises in your life to say the word, so say it!"

"But that's the thing, Hermione," Ginny exclaimed. "Harry's is the only one I've ever seen! And now his will be the only one I ever see for the rest of my life!"

"Really?" Hermione asked. "Wow. I thought with as much as you dated before Harry…"

"Nope. Just Harry."

"Not even Dean? I mean, you guys were so hot and heavy, when you weren't fighting, that is. I would have thought you'd at least sucked him off in a deserted broom closet once or twice."

"Not even once," Ginny said morosely. "And not for his lack of trying either."

"Huh. Well, wow. Who knew?"

"Yep." Ginny took a long pull of her champagne.

"But if you're happy with Harry's…. yeah, no, even I can't say it when it pertains to Harry."

"Yes, yes, I'm very happy with Harry's," Ginny said. "But how do I know if I'm really happy with Harry's… equipment? What if there's much better equipment out there, and I just don't know it? And now I'll never know it?"

"So, you're saying you want to cheat on Harry?" Hermione was incredulous. "I can't be hearing this."

Ginny scowled. "No, I couldn't do that to Harry!"

"Then what are you saying?" Hermione asked.

"Argh, I don't even know!" Ginny flopped her head down to the table, then suddenly shot up, her hands in the air, and screamed, "I just want to see a penis!"

Her declaration had carried across the entire club. The dancers were in between sets, and the music thumping through the speakers was a much lower volume than when the men were performing onstage. There was a brief pause before every woman in the club began screaming in agreement.

"Yes!"

"Penis! Penis! Penis!"

"Get it, girl!"

"Oh my Merlin," Ginny moaned, sinking back to the booth. "Hide me."

At that moment, the lights in the club went dark. Then, a spotlight from above the stage kicked on and swung over to their booth.

"Oh no," Ginny whispered. "Am I in trouble? They're not going to kick us out are they?"

"Doubtful," Hermione said, though this was all new to her. Would they kick out a bunch of paying customers for starting a penis chant?

"Ohhh, ladiiiiiies….." A silky male voice drawled out from somewhere hidden in the shadows. "I hear there's a hen night in the house…."

"Shit!" Ginny squeaked.

"We looooove bachelorettes here," the voice called out again. "In fact, we have something special worked up just… for… you…."

"Is this supposed to be sexy?" Hermione whispered to Ginny. "Honestly, it's more intimidating than sexy. I, for one, am not a fan."

"Where are you, my little bride to be?" the voice said.

"Uh-uh, no way," Ginny said frantically. "Hermione, I was kidding. I am very happy with Harry's penis, and I do not need to see another, I promise."

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

"Oh, what the hell." Hermione stood up, threw back a shot of vodka, and turned to Ginny. "Give me your sash. I'm your maid of honor. I'll take one for the team."

Ginny we bug-eyed as she quickly handed Hermione her sash. "Are you serious?"

Hermione just shrugged. "Sure. I mean, really. How bad can it be?"

And that's what she was still asking herself moments later as she stood on the stage with her tiara and sash as the lights on the stage went dark.