All women walk their own journey's. They come from different roads and lifestyles, only to soon end up on similar paths. Many work one job for the rest of their lives and continuously search for adventure and excitement. Some work multiple jobs to support themselves and if their lucky, they do what they love at some given point. A select few will conquer the world and become exactly or relatively similar versions of themselves they had always planned to be, yet it all ends the same way. Every individual, magical or mortal, lives and dies eventually.
However, Hermione was not dead quite yet and she long decided she'd wanted to take a completely different approach to life. Whether it was to prove she wasn't entirely uninteresting or to harshly stomp out the flames of unrequited love that still scorched her heart, the brunette took control of her life and admitted that she needed a confidence booster. She needed to finally put herself first, once and for all, and what better way to do so then to accept personal training from a goddess herself.
Two years ago, Hermione had decided that she no longer desired to be 'predictable'. While she appreciated her intelligent and sassy nature, she had felt as though a change was needed. With both Garrett and Harry having destroyed her in different ways and Ron and his incessant calling and questions, it had been hard for her to simply live.
All her life she'd been pretty adamant in maintaining her image and working hard to excel academically, in her field of work, and mentally. Little did she know, she was absolutely exhausted. She needed to take a step back and needed to evaluate herself in a different perspective — in different shoes, if you will.
Now, of course the process of coming to such a realization came slowly and never truly allowing herself to self-reflect, the brunette hadn't even been sure what signs she'd needed to look out for. However, having laid in her bed for hours on end, watching as the numbers on the clock ticked higher by the minute, she'd considered the offer handed to her that night.
First, she'd thought about Harry and the way his hands caressed her body, compliments and flattering remarks the only thing that slipped past his lips. But perhaps she'd been too simple for him. Perhaps she was easy and vulnerable, and all he wanted was to feel loved in a way that Ginny no longer provided since she'd begun her job. She was simply a distraction, yet she loved every bit of it. He made her feel sexy and wanted, and god she wanted to be wanted.
Harry gave her something precious, something Garrett wasn't even able to do in the two years they'd been together. He'd made her feel free and interesting. He made it seem like he loved listening to the sound of her voice as she told him the stories she'd read about in books as a kid. He'd made her feel like reading at night before bed was okay and more than appreciated even if he hated the lights. He made her feel like he'd give anything for her and she reveled in it.
She'd thought about Charity and the way she'd presented herself to everyone. She was so real and unapologetic, and Hermione felt as though she couldn't relate. Yes, while the witch didn't exactly have a filter, she saw the way that the darker haired girl's words dripped from her lips. Her voice rang like a melody and it made people want to listen, despite the type of news being told.
She'd thought about the male attention at such a place and wondered whether they would even be attracted to her the way Harry was. She didn't work out and most definitely could not do what it is the other girls even did. She didn't understand the first basics of being a stripper and most of all, she wasn't sure of how it would feel to have men stare at her hungrily all night as she sensually danced to the music.
What she did know, however, is that she thoroughly enjoyed her moments in room 209 with Charity and the man who she'd discovered was named Jordan. Funnily enough, he was also emotionally invested in the goddess of strippers, Charity Muntz.
Weighing the pros and the cons, Hermione had realized that she wanted it. She wanted to build herself up from the position that she had been in at the moment and she had desired nothing more than to be someone who could be appreciated.
So, after dodging Harry at work and striding around the office completely disoriented from all the liquor she had consumed the night before, the brunette casually waited outside the club, building up her courage. When the clock struck twelve o'clock, Hermione had waltzed in, immediately being greeted by a familiar face.
"Fancy seeing you here, Brownie," Charity said, a sarcastic tone practically oozing from her words.
"Mmm, yes, well I had assumed that you'd be missing me by now, so I decided to stop by." Hermione winked and strolled past the dark haired women.
The newfound confidence had been all very new to her. The witch had probably never winked at anyone in her 22 years of living and it was an outright shock to her system. It seemed as though one second spent with a beautiful seductress was all it had taken. Although, perhaps it could've been the instant connection the two had had, or possibly the enjoyable banter that simply just flowed.
"Oh, shove off," Charity replied as she glanced at Hermione, a small twinkle in her eye and an adorable grin etched on her features.
Leading Hermione into the back room where it looked as though the girls had changed, Charity skipped over to a dresser in the corner of the room. It appeared to have been stuck, but eventually the women had pried it open roughly, her knuckles having turned a pale white color.
"For a stripper, you're weak," Hermione joked and laughed as Charity threw her a look.
The witch then took a seat on the bench beside her and leaned forward, her elbows stabbing her thighs in an uncomfortable way. The darker haired stripper had been tossing clothing item upon clothing item to the ground, and Hermione wasn't sure how the dresser was even still held together, much less giving anyone a hard time opening it.
Humming a song she'd heard on the radio earlier that evening to pass the time quicker, the twenty-two year old shut her eyes and swayed in her seat. As her eyes closed she'd thought back to the last time she'd heard the song she was humming. It had been in Harry's parlor room the second day of her stay. He had been filing some reports and she had been right beside him, her head on his lap as she read.
All of a sudden, he'd turned on the radio and set his work aside, fixated on getting Hermione to dance with him. He was a terrible dancer. He knew it and she knew it, yet that didn't stop her from taking his hand and allowing him to guide her through an awfully choreographed performance. Eventually the two swayed in one another's arms, much like they did years prior in the tent during their horcrux hunt.
And being reminded of that fateful night, Hermione did something she should've done back then. As the song came to steady ending and the two gazed at each other, strong emotions being portrayed in each of their looks, Hermione kissed him. Hard.
That night was the second night of their short lived romance and Hermione missed it already. It wasn't until she'd felt a hand swiftly glide across her shoulder that she'd opened them up again and was presented with a smirking Charity, skimpy lingerie in hand.
"Put this on," she'd said, the image of Hermione feeding into men's dangerous desires hot on her mind.
Hermione's eyes had widened and she tilted her head, attempting to evaluate the amount of imagination left to the public. However, she stood up tall and figured she'd give it a try. She knew this was bound to happen eventually, and although she figured she'd be better trained before she was instructed to dress in an outfit like such, she had been prepared. Thank Merlin.
So, after cautiously slipping into the outfit, Hermione sluggishly walked out from beyond the change room and presented herself to her friend, at least she had hoped the two were friends. "Hot. Hot. Hot," Charity muttered as her eyes raked over the brunettes body, admiring her pale skin and the way it had complimented the olive colored lacy set.
Hermione was then immediately thrown to the wolves. The night before, the woman had read countless articles about different stripper experiences and she took into account the trials they had to pass and the examinations that normally had to be done before they were allowed to fully do the job. But, she hadn't received any of those trials or examinations and in that moment she couldn't help but to doubt herself