AN: I'm so sorry for the delay in posting, but finals and the holidays are really detrimental to punctuality. Much love to everyone who followed and favorited and huge thanks to AlohaDuchess and KaneWolfe and guests for reviewing! It means so much :D

I decided to do a lot of what happened last chapter from Harry's point of view in this chapter. This is an important moment and it's fun to explore from all the characters' points of view. Some people may not like that, so please let me know your thoughts!

Changing Scenery

Chapter 8: Intoxicating

On Friday night, Harry knocked on the door the coat witch downstairs had directed him to. He'd managed to gather together a few of the boys and after a few drinks at Harry's beforehand they'd Apparated over to the club Ginny had told him about.

After a moment the door was opened by Luna wearing a sparkly purple dress.

"Hello, Harry," she said, smiling brightly.

He stepped inside. "Hey, Luna."

Ginny spotted them from across the room. "Boys!" she shouted, grinning widely from her spot sitting next to Hermione.

Harry led the group behind him in. Angelina turned a couple chairs into couches and they all sat down. He chose a seat next to Hermione, wanting to talk to her about the case, but he lost his train of thought when he saw the dress she was wearing. He hadn't thought she owned anything like…that. I bet its Ginny's. She had her legs crossed and even though he seriously doubted it was her intention, the position revealed a lot more of her legs than he thought he'd ever seen. Merlin's beard, when did she get so gorgeous?

Somehow he managed to make conversation without tripping over his own tongue. While they talked, he looked around the room. Noticing all the couples, he realized that he and Hermione were some of the last to settle down of their Hogwarts friends. They weren't old, certainly not by wizarding standards, but they were all adults now. He knew that a lot of the relationships after the war had been driven by the heady feeling of freedom. It had even driven Hermione and Ron's ill-fated romance. He was perversely pleased that, unlike many of the relationships around the room, it hadn't worked out. Only because it was easy to see they weren't suited for each other. Not because I'm interested.

They talked for a while before Hermione was distracted by something over his shoulder. When he glanced behind him, he understood. Ron was slobbering all over Lavender, both of them clearly intoxicated.

While he commiserated with Hermione over Ron and Lavender's far-too-public display, he considered her.

"When was the last time you had a date?" he asked.

Hermione looked surprised at his question. "You sound like Ginny."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Well, you know, we did date for four years. Something was bound to rub off. But she has a point; it has been a while since you've dated anyone." And why is that?

"Since when is everyone so interested in my dating life?" Hermione demanded crossly.

"Hey! Just a question. Besides, I want you to be happy." Just not with Ron. Or Anthony. Harry smiled earnestly at her, hoping to put her at ease.

"I can be happy without dating someone," Hermione said grumpily, uncrossing her legs.

Harry looked at her evenly, keeping his gaze away from her legs. "I know that. But you don't seem happy."

"You've mentioned that." Hermione took a large drink of Firewhisky, grimacing.

Harry's eyebrows flew up, his eyes flicking between her and the glass. Hermione normally wasn't one for Firewhiskey. "And my opinion hasn't changed. You deserve to be happy."

Hermione laughed uncomfortably, fiddling with her glass. "Well I'm not looking to date right now."

"Why not?" he asked, more than a little curious.

"Uh…"

Could Ginny have been right? Could she…like me? Do I like her? Harry grinned and leaned closer. This could be fun.

"I'm seeing someone," Hermione finally spit out.

Harry watched as her eyes darted away. "You're a terrible liar."

"I'm too busy?"

"Try again." Harry took a sip of his drink to hide the smile that he could feel threatening.

Hermione rolled her eyes. I wonder if she knows she picked that up from me? She looked over his shoulder. "Fine. There's just no one I'm interested in."

Harry cocked his head. "You're still a terrible liar."

Hermione blushed and took another drink of Firewhisky. She was adorable when she was embarrassed.

"Who is it?" he pressed. Fuck it. Please be me.

Hermione coughed. "Nobody. I told you, I'm not looking to date right now."

"You would make a terrible criminal," he informed her.

Hermione huffed out a breath. "Forget it, Harry."

Check. "Maybe I'll just sic Ginny on you."

Hermione glared at him. "You wouldn't."

Checkmate. "I would."

"You are evil, Harry Potter."

Harry was about to respond when he heard a knock on the door, muffled by the noise of Dean and Seamus's argument. He turned to look at the door, his hand falling to his wand, tucked in the pocket of his jeans. He sincerely doubted it was anyone dangerous, but you could never be too careful, especially with this many potential targets in a room.

Ginny hopped up and ran to the door as fast as her very high heels allowed. She threw open the door and engulfed whoever was on the other side in a massive hug. When she stepped back, he grimaced wryly. Anyone dangerous indeed. He would have recognized Blaise from school, but he'd also seen a recent photograph at the DMLE's biannual review of all open Auror files. Blaise, with his known connections to Dark wizards, had an open file, and all open files included photographs.

He didn't need a photograph to recognize the man with Blaise. It was a surprise to see Malfoy in public, but Malfoy appeared as at ease here as he had standing on the bed in the Ministry safe house. Harry knew he'd been keeping a low profile since his abduction. His wings were nowhere to be seen, and he wondered how that was possible. A glamor? But why hide them? And why is he here?

Ginny introduced Blaise as her boyfriend, looking extremely pleased with herself. Harry didn't know Blaise well, but Ginny seemed genuinely happy and Blaise hadn't made any trouble since the war, so he offered them congratulations.

Despite the fact that he was hanging back, letting Blaise and Ginny have their moment, Malfoy drew Harry's gaze. He was dressed in ridiculously well-fitting black robes, his hair combed neatly, hands tucked in his pockets, his demeanor radiating style and sex. Why am I thinking about how sexy Malfoy looks? He's a git .A git who looked even more attractive than he'd looked in Harry's office earlier that week. I am not attracted to Malfoy.

Harry kept half an eye on Malfoy even as he went back to chatting with Hermione. Because of that, he saw Malfoy glance over more than once; when Malfoy saw that he'd seen he only raised an eyebrow and smirked. Harry returned his attention to Hermione, somewhat disconcerted.

For the fifth or so time, Hermione whipped her head around only to just miss Malfoy staring at her. It probably shouldn't have been as funny as it was, but the growing look of annoyance and the little wrinkled between her eyebrows was just so cute. He teased her about her preoccupation and she glared at him, crossing her legs and huffing.

He couldn't help but notice again how gorgeous her legs looked.

When he looked up, she was staring at him. At first he was embarrassed to be caught staring until he realized that she was blushing. Could she really be interested? Ginny's words echoed through his head again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny, standing with Katie and Angelina, looking smug as she glanced at them. He decided he might as well test the waters.

He used her clear irritation as an excuse.

"Well if you want to get out of his sight, do you want to go dance?" Harry said, rubbing one hand through his hair and offering his other to her. He was more than a little nervous even though he was pretty sure she'd agree, even if it was just to get out of Malfoy's sight.

After a moment, she took his hand, looking a tiny bit uncertain. "Sure, that sounds nice."

He grinned. Yes! "Great."

Hermione stood up and started smoothing her dress down. He couldn't help but stare. She looked absolutely amazing. He'd have to thank Ginny, whom he was absolutely certain was behind the dress. Malfoy was also staring at her, but oddly it didn't bother him to see Malfoy ogling Hermione. Surely that's odd? He put the thought out of his mind, unwilling to examine it further.

When she was finished arranging her dress, he took her hand again. As he maneuvered around clumps of people toward the door, he was glad that most of them were too drunk or preoccupied to notice them going. The only exceptions were two blonds. Luna stopped them by the door, but just told them to have fun. She smiled at him almost gleefully before turning away.

He was fairly certain that he could feel Malfoy's eyes on him as they left.

Downstairs, he pushed into the center of the crowd on the dance floor. He could feel that Hermione was tense from how tight she was holding onto his hand. He knew she didn't go out very often, but she'd seemed to be having a good time that night. He figured that, paradoxically, being surrounded by strangers might help her relax. She could let loose without fear of embarrassing herself in front of people she knew.

When he thought they were deep enough in the crowd, he pulled her into him and put his hands on her waist. They wanted to slip lower but he didn't want to push her. Her hands slid onto his shoulders and around his neck, which seemed like a good sign, but when she just stood there stiffly, staring up at him, he decided to coax her into action.

She seemed to loosen up once they started dancing. She leaned into his movements and he could feel himself reacting to her heat. He let himself sink into the feeling of holding her, dancing with her. It was hot and crowded and loud but he didn't think he'd ever felt so in tune with anyone. He looked into her eyes as his hands slid down to her hips and he pulled her close. Her lips parted and he could see her chest rise as she gasped. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything sexier.

Merlin's balls, I want to take her to bed right now. The realization that he desperately wanted to sleep with his best friend of more than a decade wasn't as startling as he might have expected.

Although he was mostly focused on the feel of Hermione in his arms, years as an Auror had him paying attention to the mass of people surrounding them. For some reason, Harry was entirely unsurprised when he spotted a pale blond head moving easily through the crowd towards them. Malfoy was taller than most of the people dancing around them and his distinctive hair was easy to see in the dark room. Harry watched as he insinuated himself behind Hermione, who was entirely oblivious to his approach. Harry felt the brush of Malfoy's fingers as Malfoy settled his hands on Hermione's waist, just above where Harry had his hands on her hips.

Hermione jerked in surprise and Malfoy leaned down to whisper in her ear, never breaking eye contact with him. Whatever he said, lost in the noise, caused Hermione to look up at him. Harry waited for some feeling of annoyance or jealousy, even anger, at Malfoy's presence and felt nothing except a strange warmth in his chest that nearly matched the heat in his groin.

Finally Harry looked down at Hermione, who was staring up at him in bewilderment. He shrugged slightly and then looked up at Malfoy again, who was smirking. Harry quirked a brow and Malfoy settled himself more firmly against Hermione, pushing all of them closer together. Harry nearly groaned at the feeling.

As they started dancing again, Malfoy fitting surprisingly well into the rhythm they'd established earlier, Harry alternated between looking at Hermione and Malfoy.

If possible, Hermione was even more breathless than she had been before. Her head had fallen back against Draco's shoulder, her curls spreading across his chest.

Malfoy looked sinful. He stood almost a full head taller than Hermione, even with her heels, and a wicked smirk graced his face. It was completed by the look in his eyes that was all heat and need and lust.

He wasn't sure what look was in his own eyes, but suddenly Malfoy grinned and then there was a hand on his hip. He didn't need to check that Hermione's hands were still on his shoulders, her fingers brushing against the hair at the nape of his neck, to know that the hand belonged to Malfoy. Long fingers wrapped around his hip and pulled him toward Hermione with a surprisingly strong grip. It had the immediate effect of causing Hermione to gasp and Malfoy's grin to grow even wider. Both of those things went straight to his cock.

Hermione looked up at him and he all he could do was look at her helplessly. Merlin, I want you to want me as much I want you. Surely she had to be at least a little attracted to him, to be grinding her hips against him the way she was.

As Harry struggled valiantly to keep his gaze from falling to her heaving chest, he saw Malfoy lean down to whisper in Hermione's ear. She licked her lip and then bit it.

She took a deep breath. "Do you…want me?" she asked uncertainly.

Harry almost stopped breathing. You have to ask? Despite what certain portions of his anatomy were insisting, he hesitated. What if this ruins our friendship? What if she doesn't want anything more than tonight?

She drew back slightly, face red, and the panic at her withdrawal convinced him that he did want her. Want this. Desperately.

"You want her, don't you, Potter?" Malfoy murmured, mirroring his thoughts, just loud enough to be heard over the music. His voice sounded like sex.

He wanted to run a hand through his hair, but he wanted to keep holding Hermione more. Fuck it. Harry let out a shaky breath.

"Yes," he said. Merlin, yes. He squeezed Hermione's hip, hand clenching reflexively.

"Then you should have her. She wants you, too." How Malfoy managed to sound like he was whispering to them in bed despite being in the middle of a crowded club, Harry would never know.

Then his brain stalled out as he registered Malfoy's words. She wants me? Is Malfoy just saying that? But Malfoy's eyes were still filled with lust, and his grip was still firm on Harry's hip.

Harry looked at Hermione, trying to see into her thoughts. What he saw in her eyes comforted him. She was just as aroused as he was. "Do you, Hermione?"

"I…I…"

"Maybe she needs some convincing, Potter," Malfoy drawled.

Hermione's hips pressed into him and she was staring up at him and Harry grinned. I can do that.

Snogging Hermione was the best feeling in the world. Her delicate fingers tangling in his hair, tugging, pulled a groan from deep in his chest. The club faded away and the only thing that mattered was Hermione and it felt so right. Except it wasn't just Hermione. Harry was intimately aware of Malfoy's presence. At some point, Malfoy's hand had left his hip and Harry found himself missing its warmth and strength. Their fingers brushed as they held Hermione between them, and sparks seemed to flow up his arms from those slight points of contact. He slid one hand into Hermione's hair to tilt her head for a better angle and then Merlin it was perfect. Better than any dream or fantasy he'd ever had.

Eventually he drew back when he felt he'd gotten enough of a taste of Hermione. She was panting and he could feel sweat forming on his forehead. It wasn't just the heat of the club. He wanted to take Hermione home right now and the restraint necessary to keep from ravaging her in the middle of the club was only just within his limits.

He caught his breath and then couldn't help but say, "I've wanted to do that for ages." His voice sounded as rough as he felt.

"Have you?" She looked dazed.

He breathed out a laugh. "Merlin, Hermione, you have no idea."

He leaned down and kissed her again, pressing into her. He could feel when she was pressed as close to Malfoy as she could be. The backs of Harry's hands were brushing against Malfoy's hard chest. Hermione tasted like sugar and Firewhiskey and she was more intoxicating than anything he'd drunk that evening.

After he pulled back, reluctantly, he could only stare at her. This was what he'd been missing. She was all he'd ever really wanted.

When Malfoy started talking, his voice sounding like it was whispered directly into his ear, it only added fuel to the fires raging in his heart and groin, and Harry was both disappointed and relieved when Hermione pulled away before rushing out of the club. If she'd stayed, he might have done exactly what Malfoy had suggested.

Once Hermione was gone, he was left standing with Malfoy, who was staring at him with a smirk.

"What?" he asked defensively, rubbing a hand through his hair. He had to resist the urge to touch his lips and see if he could feel Hermione. To see if there was proof that he'd just snogged his friend in the middle of a club.

Malfoy took a step forward into Harry's personal space. "I'm surprised you and Granger hadn't done that before."

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. "Don't know what you mean."

Malfoy only smirked harder. "It's like getting a whiff of Amortentia. You suddenly discover exactly what it is you've always wanted." He leaned forward, his lips right by Harry's ear. "What you've always needed."

Harry took a shuddering breath. Before he could come up with a response, Malfoy was walking away. Harry stared after him. He was leaving? After saying that? But Malfoy glanced back at him with one eyebrow raised. He cocked his head forward and Harry was following him before he made a conscious decision to do so.

Harry only just managed to keep up as Malfoy easily maneuvered through the writhing bodies. Just when Harry thought he'd lost him, he spotted a dark hallway that was very nearly invisible against the black walls. Only a very dim line of lights down the center of the hallway distinguished it. Harry walked down the empty hallway several meters until he spotted Malfoy leaning against the wall.

Harry walked up to him, his hand twitching toward his wand. He didn't think Malfoy would attack him, but he couldn't be too careful. When Harry came to a stop in front of him, Malfoy didn't say anything.

"Well?" Harry demanded. He was feeling vaguely disconcerted for a reason he couldn't put a finger on.

Malfoy didn't answer for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he grabbed Harry's shirt, shoved him back against the wall, crowded against him, and pressed his lips against Harry's.

Shock kept Harry still for a moment before he found himself responding aggressively. Malfoy was a bit taller and only just stronger than Harry, and he kept him pinned against the wall as he dragged his lips across Harry's jaw and then down his throat, the stubble of his cheek rasping slightly. He nipped Harry's collarbone hard before returning to his lips. Harry groaned and Malfoy took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Harry's mouth.

This was nothing like kissing Hermione. Malfoy was aggressive and demanding and somehow possessive. He smelled like cedar and Firewhiskey and smoke. He was so different from Hermione but equally intoxicating.

Harry grabbed Malfoy's hips and pulled him closer. It was easy to tell how aroused Malfoy was. Harry ground their cocks together even as he tangled his tongue with Malfoy's. Malfoy moaned and tilted his head, biting Harry's lower lip. Harry returned the favor. Malfoy drew away slightly and then bent his head and nipped the muscle between Harry's neck and shoulder. Harry shuddered and Malfoy did it again, harder. Harry was pretty sure he'd have a mark the next day, but the thought didn't bother him.

Malfoy drew back, leaving only his hands, which were wrapped tightly around Harry's hips.

"Something to think about, Potter," he murmured.

And then he pulled away completely and walked down the hallway and out of sight.

Harry leaned back against the wall, panting. His hands, his neck, and his lips tingled and he was harder than he'd ever been. What the bloody hell just happened?

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