Chapter 9
Severus and Lucius stood in an alcove at the entrance of the pleasantly ambient hotel bar where they said they would meet Hermione. There were several clandestine meetings going on. Lovers sat in booths accompanied by buckets of champagne; there were a few friends joking merrily near the grand piano that tinkled softly and some rigid business suit types – who seemed to be rather taken with a vixen in a backless dress.
Both Lucius and Severus were dressed in muggle suits; Lucius fiddled a little with his tie ruefully, preferring his Wizard regalia. The men sipped on the tumblers of brandy they had ordered becoming bored without their third.
"What time did we agree on?" Severus huffed.
"We did say eight o'clock." Replied Lucius. "Am I right in thinking it's rather unusual for Miss Granger to be late?"
"Yes. Unless she's taking down another Dark Lord or she's found an injured puppy somewhere…" Severus felt his sardonic comment drain from him. In fact, most of his blood supply suddenly drained southwards.
The pixie cut vixen from the bar had swivelled on the bar stool, intent it seemed on ignoring her growing flock of admirers. The woman's evening gown was a long black piece of silk that clung to her like a second skin and made her complexion look creamy in the intimate lighting. She had simple accessories, two sapphires hung from her ears drawing attention to her long neck and décolletage. Her makeup was subtle and sultry; smoky eyes lined with kohl emphasized the two amber orbs beautifully and the café au lait gloss that adorned her lips made him want to kiss at her cupid's bow maddeningly. The woman's eyes locked with Severus' and then she audaciously smirked at him.
Severus ploughed his elbow into Lucius' side, nearly causing the older man to spill his drink down himself.
"What in the world has got into you man!" Lucius exclaimed; until he followed his partner's line of sight. Ah. Right. That's what had gotten into his usually dour potions master. Where once there had been a sweet little Gryffindor now sat a siren.
Hermione sat on the stool and tried her best to appear nonchalant as her older lovers approached her. When they arrived at her side she playfully teased them. "You're late."
"And you are stunning." Severus dipped down to breath in her ear. Punctuating every syllable so that it left a wake of gooseflesh down her neck and arms.
"Shall we go?" She enquired breathily.
Lucius held out his arm for the young woman to take. "I have to say my dear, the new style is very becoming." He said and indicated to her new shorter hair.
Hermione blushed, unaccustomed to compliments. She raised her hand self-consciously to the back of her head. "Hmm.. no more little miss school-girl anymore, am I?"
Severus stopped the three of them in their tracks and turned to look down at the young witch. "The school-girl was lovely and we will miss her. But the sorceress you're becoming – We're infinitely more interested in."
Hermione practically glowed in feminine pride at this and allowed her men to lead her out onto the streets of Paris.