Chapter 18

It didn't take long for Hermione to begin to feel that same sense of unease in the pit of her stomach that happened every time she came to a place—like this club—that had a lot of young, attractive people gathered gaily to the sounds of raucous music. She had wavered and waffled all day about the decision to bring Draco here. People, some people, some specific people (well, persons, okay, one person) had always maintained that she didn't know how to have fun. That she'd rather be home with her nose in a book than really living life. It was true that she loved being home with her nose in a book, but it didn't mean that it was the only thing she ever wanted. She knew how to have fun and sometimes she even liked having fun around other people. She particularly liked to dance the Muggle way and didn't often have the opportunity to do it, so she thought she'd take Draco to a Muggle club, and prove to everyone (since that one person would never even know, that meant only herself) that she still appreciated being young and having an exciting evening.

Draco seemed a little surprised at the loud atmosphere when they had first walked in after having dinner at a tasteful little café. He had looked over at her questioningly, as if wondering if they were in the right place, and so she had smiled at him reassuringly and squeezed his hand. Honestly, she wasn't sure if the hand-squeezing accomplished anything as the entire walk over she'd been alternating between holding his hand too tightly and too loosely as she kept overthinking the feel of her hand in his. He probably thought her hand was having a spasm or something; hence the smile, which was much more universal.

The club was crowded, as it probably was every Friday. It had been a long time since Hermione had visited, let alone on a Friday night, and she'd nearly forgotten having to deal with the press of people. She'd had a brief twinge of anxiety that she firmly pushed aside, telling herself she really did need to get out more, and then she pulled Draco over to the bar at the side.

The cool, appraising looks that were thrown at Draco as they passed were nothing more than Hermione had expected. In his expensive trousers and silk button-down shirt she had to admit that he looked particularly gorgeous tonight. But she hadn't missed the double-take and the not-quite-blatant once-over the barmaid gave Draco as they approached the bar. She was one of those tall, leggy blonde sorts that bars seemed to like to employ to persuade male patrons into purchasing more alcohol than they ought to. Her long ponytail bounced behind her as she agilely filled drink orders and pleasantly chatted up the customers standing at her counter. That look in her eyes was what had set off that twinging sense in Hermione's stomach, the one that told her to go hide.

In the Muggle world, Ron had rarely been noticed, but walking into a bar in the Wizarding world had always resulted in scenes just like this one, and for a moment Hermione experienced a strange déjà vu. Embarrassed at herself, she firmly tried to shake it off, and leaned on the counter with a forced smile on her face.

"What'll it be?" the girl (her name tag said "Candy" with a heart drawn beside it) asked, her eyes on Hermione for an instant before shooting over to Draco and then lingering for a moment.

Hermione ordered a margarita for herself and then turned to ask Draco what he wanted. Draco just raised an eyebrow, reminding her that he didn't have much experience with ordering Muggle beverages. She grinned at him, remembering their last date at the pizza place, and his very Wizard reactions to Muggle food and drink items. Turning back to Candy, Hermione told her that Draco didn't drink much (which of course wasn't true, but was the easiest explanation she had on hand) and wanted to try something new tonight.

"Of course, I'd be happy to help you figure out what you want!" Candy responded, her eyes locked with Draco's in a way that made Hermione suspicious of her tone, if not her actual words.

Draco turned to look at Hermione who took her eyes off Candy's face (and her unnaturally clear skin) to realize she didn't know anything about Draco's alcohol choices other than his penchant for firewhiskey, which was definitely not an option for this evening. She ordered him a martini. That seemed appropriately sophisticated and debonair for Draco Malfoy's elevated tastes. If it's good enough for James Bond…

"Shaken, not stirred, I gather?" Candy asked, a twinkle in her eyes, as she looked Draco up and down once more. As Draco's attention was occupied looking out at the dance floor (actually, taking in the layout of the room and the location of the exits), he didn't notice, but Hermione did and when Candy saw she'd been caught looking she had the gall to give Hermione a wink.

When their drinks were set in front of them, Candy moved off to deal with some other customers while Draco tasted his drink. First, he eyed the olive in the bottom of the glass, and then carefully lifted it to his lips. His expression remained particularly still as he set the glass back on the counter and Hermione's face fell.

"You hate it," she said.

"No," Draco denied, hastily taking another sip, "it's perfectly fine."

"But you don't like it."

"Well, it's no firewhiskey," Draco conceded, somehow managing to sum up the entire difference between the two worlds in that one observation.

Hermione easily pushed the glass aside and then waved Candy back again. "He didn't like it," she announced without preamble.

Candy made a disappointed moue with her mouth. But it quickly gave way to a slow, sultry smile. "I bet you like sweet things, don't you? Chocolates? Candy?" At Draco's pleased nod, she laughed and said, "You want a girly drink." She didn't wait for a response or even acknowledge the way Draco's eyes flashed slightly at her description, but immediately started mixing something else together.

As she pulled out several different liquors, she added, "It's called a Purple Panty Dropper. But I make mine with peppermint schnapps, so it tastes…rather like a candy cane. Fun, flirty, I'll bet you like it much better than that other one. It's much more exciting."

Draco's only response was, "I do have a sweet tooth." Candy beamed at him, while Hermione tried not to react.

Hermione's eyes had narrowed at the carefully chosen words the barmaid was using and she was trying to convince herself that she was just being paranoid. But there was a roiling in her stomach that she was all too familiar with. Ron would lean on the counter with a wink and a flirty tone that somehow always resulted in him signing an autograph on a napkin (or a shoulder) and taking a picture with an arm slung casually around the girl in question ("All for the fans, of course, 'Mione!"). And they always, without fail, managed to take a poke at her. 'Why are you with her?' 'She can't appreciate you like I can.' 'Call me when you want more adventure in your … life, if you know what I mean.' And those were just the things they'd say right in front of her.

The pinkish purple drink was set with a flourish before Draco, whose initial response was, "Oh, the color of the drink is purple, I thought it meant the color of the … well, it makes sense the drink couldn't specify. It's not magic, after all."

Candy laughed, a full-throated sound that set Hermione's teeth on edge, clearly not understanding Draco's magic reference (thank Merlin) and urged him to take a sip.

After Draco did, his eyes lit up and he pronounced the drink much more his style and thanked her.

"Of course, happy to help!" she cooed at him. "And did you want one of those frilly umbrellas I usually put in the drinks?"

Noticing that several of the drinks around him had the little paper umbrellas, Draco considered it very seriously. "Does the pretty little thing enhance the flavor, or just the experience?"

With a wide smile that Hermione felt rather like slapping off her face, Candy said, "Oh, it definitely enhances the experience!" And so saying, she dropped a flirty little pink umbrella into his drink, her eyes on him all the while.

Now that Draco had his drink, Hermione pushed off from the counter, irritated, to find a place to sit without acknowledging their conversation further. She was getting worked up and beginning to regret her choice in venue. Finding a tiny empty table in a corner, she set her drink down and then turned to see Draco pushing through the crowd behind her, still sipping on that lurid purple concoction.

As he set his drink down on the table, Hermione took a deep breath and resolved to enjoy their evening together, when she saw him frowning at a small piece of paper in his hand. She felt her heart sinking. He looked up to see her watching him, and he grabbed her arm rather roughly and pulled her close to where he could speak into her ear.

Despite the loud music, she heard him quite clearly with his voice so close, his breath sending shivers down her spine. "I don't think it's safe here, we should leave."

Alarmed, she looked down at the note in Draco's hand, carefully cupped so that only she could see the writing on it. He continued, his hand still firmly holding her by the arm. "The barkeep handed me some kind of warning, but it's in code so I don't know what it says."

Drolly, Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "It's her phone number."

"Her what?"

"It's her name, and her phone number. Like her Floo address. She was flirting with you."

Surprised, he looked back at the bar which was obscured by the people crowded around it. When he turned back, his tone was disgusted, "Has she no manners? You were literally standing right beside me."

"Manners?" Hermione's tone was one of disbelief. "Manners? That's all you see wrong with this picture?" She wanted to say more, but realized she would only sound ridiculous. Ridiculous and jealous and insecure. And she didn't want to be that person. Not again. So she just took a deep breath and turned to look at the dance floor. "I'm going to go dance," she announced, and she walked out onto the floor by herself, determined to put the scene behind her.

~~~ooo~~~

She looked ridiculous. But Draco quickly saw that she wasn't the only one dancing like a caffeinated kangaroo with five arms, so it was clearly correct for the culture they were in. Muggle dances had no grace to them. Despite that, she managed to look adorably sexy in her jeans with her hair bouncing all over the place.

He permitted himself a very small smile while he watched her. She'd been jealous. He knew that girl at the bar had been flirting with him (of course, he later thought she was an undercover Muggle 'police auror', but that turned out to be a misunderstanding so he was back to the original flirting thing). It didn't happen often, being the notorious ex-Death Eater that he was, but he had been aware of her pathetic attempts at engaging his attention. There had been nothing remotely tempting about her, certainly not with Hermione standing right there looking fresh and enticing, and yes, the slightest bit irritated. And decidedly jealous.

He smiled again. She was so cute when she was jealous and trying so hard not to be. But she seemed to be enjoying herself now, if the look on her face was any indication. There didn't seem to be much rhyme or reason to the way the Muggles chose to group up. Some were in pairs, dancing very closely, while others were gathered in clumps, and still others seemed completely unattached to anyone else. Granger had spent some time near a cluster of laughing young women, and then had wandered around the floor on her own bobbing and swaying crazily in time with the music. It was clear she was having fun and the music was lifting her mood. When she caught him watching her, she seemed momentarily embarrassed, but then she waved at him to come out on the floor with her.

Draco had no desire to join in with the others on the dance floor, but he had a very, very strong desire to place his hands on Hermione Granger, so when she came over and grabbed those hands to pull him over he didn't resist very much. He could always blame it on the panty drink, there seemed to be quite a bit of alcohol in it.

The music had changed a little, to something sultry and undulating. Her arms went around him, and they swayed in time to the music. She was damp from dancing, and Draco could smell the scent on her hair and her skin, driving him crazy. Though not even standing as close as when they had waltzed at the Ministry ball, there was something about the informality of the crowded dance floor at a Muggle dance club, that made him feel tangled up with her.

As they danced, she looked up at him, clearly intending to ask something, but then abruptly she looked back down. Draco grinned and twirled her around, knowing she would get around to whatever she wanted to say.

When she finally spoke, he wasn't terribly surprised at the comment. "So I see you didn't go talk to the slag at the counter." An accurate observation as he'd spent the entire last 20 minutes sipping his purple drink and watching her gyrate around the dance floor. It pleased him that even though she didn't appear to be looking his way, she'd noticed where he was.

"Is her name really Candy?" he asked, his low voice the same tone as the one he used to mock guests at the Ministry Dinner. Hermione laughed quietly, and the sound vibrated warmly against his chest.

"Didn't you notice her nametag? Yes, it's 'Candy'. As in candy cane: a flavor she felt quite confident you would enjoy, remember?" she teased, but Draco still heard the lingering doubts.

"The drink is quite delicious, she wasn't wrong. But even if I wasn't here with you, that Candy is not my type." This direct statement was met with a considering silence.

Finally, she asked, "What is your type, then?"

Above her head, where she couldn't see, he smiled. "You know, the usual. Chestnut curls. Razor-sharp intellect. Scathing wit. Big, bossy mouth."

Her tone was a bit sharp as she responded, "Oh, is that all?"

He pulled her closer into his arms. "Lovely dark eyes. A soft heart, and a backbone of steel."

"Hmmm," was all she said, strangely appeased, her stomach fluttering at his words. "For it to be a type, does it mean that you've found more than one who matches that criteria?"

He laughed. "More than one Hermione Granger? Well, now that's a very interesting fantasy." His voice was low in her ear, his breath against her neck making her shiver as he twisted her words. "Consider me intrigued. Would one of them be wearing a Gryffindor uniform and one of them wearing a Slytherin uniform?"

"Stop," she told him, a little embarrassed at the dual images of herself that his words conjured.

"Oh no, you can't take it back now. I might be thinking about it all night, actually. Don't know why I've never thought about it before. Oh, yes, because there's only one Hermione Granger." He let her go and as he twirled her again he saw the small smile she had on her face, Candy and all her sugary ilk forgotten.

As she spun back to him she placed her arms comfortably around his neck. The music had changed to another fast-paced song, but they were content to continue swaying together. His hands slid down her body, to rest on the hips of those jeans he was fast beginning to adore. A few feet away, he could see another couple with the man's hands tucked into the back pockets of the woman's jeans, and he wondered how Hermione would react if he slid his hands in and around the curve of her backside. His fingers tightened on her hips, as he determined that he would find out, but maybe another time.

He heard her sigh against his neck, and turned his head so that his lips were in her hair, marveling at the feel of her with him.

~~~ooo~~~

Draco never did end up doing the crazy, bouncing Muggle dance. But several times he stood there good naturedly while Hermione hopped in circles around him. He could tell she was having fun. More than one person tried to cut in, usually scantily clad women whom he dismissed not-quite-rudely. Occasionally it was some prick in a dirty T-shirt, and Draco would send him away more-than-rudely.

His favorites were the slow dances. He'd tried a couple of times to figure out the best way to convince the person in charge of the music to play only the sweet, soft ones. Hermione would always come right up to him, laughing because she was sweaty and sticky, or sometimes just because she liked the song. She'd press her body right up against his, her arms around his neck, and his arms would go around her, settling comfortably along her hips.

The feel of her in his arms got better each time. He did finally inch his hands down into her back pockets, and made the final decision that jeans and slow dances were some of the best things Muggles had ever invented. Then she'd wriggled a little against his hands and a bolt of lust had shot straight through him, causing him to pull her even closer against him and forget whatever his current train of thought was.

He hadn't wanted to kiss her in such a public place. He didn't know how she felt about that, although it was clear some of the other patrons had no such compunctions. But he'd been nearly trembling from the need to put his mouth on her. He nuzzled her hair aside and placed a soft kiss against the delicate skin behind her ear, hoping to make the ache subside a bit. Instead, she gasped breathily, making it noticeably worse. So he kissed her neck again, hot little open-mouthed kisses that gave him the taste of her skin and made her tremble in his arms.

But then the music started fast again and he reluctantly pulled back to let her wobble back on her feet, waiting for the next time he could pull her close.

By the time the night was over and he had walked her back to her flat, he was nearly shaking from the arousal of moving his body against hers all night.

He'd just kiss her the once, he promised himself, knowing somehow it wasn't going to be nearly enough, but also knowing that he was already moving her faster than she might be ready for.

At the door, he leaned over to kiss her goodnight intent on being gentle but was taken aback when her arms instantly twined tight about his neck and she responded to his kiss with fervor and enthusiasm. He immediately opened his mouth to taste her better, his tongue sweeping along the outside of her lips, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her in even closer than they'd been dancing.

She tasted sweet, like that last drink she'd had at the club… fizzy, cherry-something. Her mouth matched perfectly to his. He nibbled along her lips, the weight of his body pinning her to the wall, and his hands gripping her waist. He had meant the kiss to be soft and sweet, but when she responded so readily to him, he lost track of all of his intentions. The feel of her soft curves so hard against him—finally, finally!—was enough to make him forget where he was.

The kiss was passionate, full of longing and desire, and though Hermione was determined not to run away like the last time, it made her tremble and quiver inside to think that he could have those feelings for her. He'd been teasing her all night and she'd thought she was prepared, but the strength of his body, the heat from his kiss, the need and want she felt simmering just under the surface was overwhelming. She pulled away and blinked, unseeing, stars still sparking off inside her head. Recalling where they were, she asked breathlessly, "Did—did you want to come inside?"

He gave a short laugh, still holding her tightly, and shook his head. At the confused and slightly crestfallen look on her face, he explained, "You're not ready for that."

Hermione's eyes went wide, as she realized what her request had sounded like. "Oh, I didn't mean for that, I just meant—"

"If I come inside right now, that's what you're going to get," he cut her off.

Unsure why the thought sounded both threatening and incredibly exciting, she felt obliged to point out, "I wouldn't do something I didn't want to do."

He grinned at her statement. "Oh, you'll want it. You'll love it. It would be amazing, and then we'd do it again." He leaned down, partially to whisper into her ear, and partially to nibble on her delectable neck. She unconsciously tilted her head to give him better access, still trembling lightly in his arms, and could feel his words rasp against her sensitive skin. "But when I slide into you, Hermione Granger, there's going to be zero chance that you will regret it in the morning."

With a final kiss, he pulled back with a sigh. Straightening the collar of her coat, the gentleness of his fingers was belied by the dark excitement in his eyes as he held her gaze. "So not tonight. Another night, when I'm sure I'm not going to fuck you up against the closest surface."

All she could do was stare up at him, her legs turning to jelly at his words. Mostly his words. Partially the frantic images spinning through her head caused by his words. She swallowed, wondering if he was right, and she wasn't ready for that kind of relationship. Wondering if she wanted one. Wondering if she had the courage to ask him in, anyway.

As if he could read the doubts circling in her mind, he told her quietly, "Go inside, Hermione."

And somehow, with his eyes still holding hers, she managed to open the door behind her back and step into her flat. As she closed the door, she called out, "Goodnight!" She'd meant it to sound cheery, but it came out quavering and more breathless than she'd intended. She didn't see him smile to himself as the door clicked shut. And she didn't see him standing out there for several more minutes as he gathered himself to leave, wondering if she would come back out to come after him, thinking it was a terrible idea, but hoping she would anyway.

He finally licked his lips, the taste of her still lingering, and Apparated away.

oOoOoOo

A/N: Well, I never did find a beta. I'm having trouble getting the chapters together in any sort of orderly fashion. I'm afraid I may have to hold off on posting even what I do have until I can get several chapters written in a row and make sure everything meshes correctly. The longer this story gets the harder time I'm having holding it all together. Still, I love this story. And I love all of your reviews. Every time I get a review, especially when you talk about what you enjoyed best, I read through pieces of the story, and I remember how excited I am to share this with you all. And I laugh and laugh thinking how much you'll enjoy some of the things coming up in later chapters that are just waiting for me to write the part of the story that happens in between. Kind of like this "first" kiss. It was one of the first scenes I wrote for Draco's Bad Day and I've been dying all this time to see how you all like it. And it took me so long to get to it because somehow I wrote Draco and Hermione a little too far apart and it took me 45k words to get them to here, haha! But if you're re-reading this after a long time, and you see I haven't posted the next chapter, just know that I haven't forgotten. I'm still writing. I'm still reading your reviews. This story will finish. I've even gotten the final scene written already, even though we're nowhere near the end. Have faith, and drop me a reminder.