I REFUSE TO UPDATE BEFORE I SEE A TOTAL OF 40 REVIEWS FOR THIS STORY. DON'T WORRY, I'LL TYPE UP THE CHAPTER AND EVERYTHING, BUT I WON'T POST IT UNTIL A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE FOUR-OH POPS UP! XP

Apart from my outburst...thanks for all the kind reviews, guys! I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well. And don't forget to visit my profile to vote on what kind of ending you'd like for this story!

OFFICIAL CHAPTER DEDICATION: amazingtofu for being my first reviewer!

CHAPTER 2 - Dancing on Broken Glass

Hermione stood outside the loud, spacious nightclub feeling both apprehensive and excited. What with her being a pragmatic bookworm and all, she wasn't very used to participating in such late-night activities, and she had heard more than enough stories from her friends about all the incidents that happened in nightclubs, both good and bad. Luna had warned her that discos and the like were places of imminent disaster; however Ginny had dismissed Luna's dark descriptions by reassuring Hermione that partying and dancing all night long was the perfect way to relieve stress and really enjoy oneself.

Whatever the case may be, I guess I'll never know until I get inside, Hermione thought reasonably as the chattering line of entrants steadily moved forward to where a formidably buff bouncer was standing with his arms crossed and his eyes trained on each person passing through two enchanted pillars.

At Hermione's side was Andrea, dressed in a flattering light pink minidress that somehow managed to elongate her torso. The blonde bombshell was obviously raring to get inside, because she kept complaining about how slowly the line was moving.

"Ugh, this is ridiculous!" Andrea griped with a frown on her face. "By the time we reach that front door, we'll be senior citizens and won't even be able to dance anymore!"

Hermione chuckled at her friend's expression. "Merlin, Andi, don't complain so much. We're nearly there, and it's not like there won't be a single handsome guy inside if we get inside five minutes later."

"But what if the perfect Mr. Gorgeous is gone by the time I get in there! Oh, what a thought, what a thought…"

Hermione rolled her eyes and cursed under her breath as she briefly hopped on one foot to fix her high-heel straps. "Andi, trust me, you'll get your bloody Prince Charming tonight no matter what. And what the bloody hell were you thinking when you made me get into this outfit? I can hardly walk in these things!"

Andrea smirked. "Now who's complaining? And shut up! You look stunning, and so help me, I will glue those shoes onto your feet if you utter another word about them tonight."

Hermione scowled as she carefully avoided any bumps in the pathway. When the two girls finally reached the entrance from where dry-ice smoke and pulsating beats were pouring out, the bouncer sort of twitched his massive bald head to the side to indicate that they were cleared to go through the pillars. They stepped through individually and walked into a veritable fantasyland of multicolored lights and resonant music.

All around Hermione was a mass of individually throbbing people swinging their leather-clad hips, stepping blithely on their feet, and bobbing their heads in time to the vibrant sounds echoing along the walls. The smoky darkness was punctured by funnel-shaped glasses filled with vividly colored drinks, and to the left of the giant room was a set of continually revolving private compartments where couples and friends were turning in and out of view. Golds glinted, silvers sparkled, acid greens blazed, and hot pinks flashed. Hermione almost lost her train of thought amidst all this dynamic energy and was elbowed in the ribs by a not-as-greatly-affected Andrea.

"What's wrong, doll?" Andrea laughed, her teeth appearing to be a rainbow of hues. "All this life too much for you?" She turned away and bounded down to where the DJ was, eager to finally let herself groove.

Hermione quickly shook her head to clear her thoughts before stepping down a couple of stairs into the raucous crowd. Immediately, she was jostled and shoved by a hundred people all at once as she tried to make her way to the significantly less populated bar. Gritting her teeth and sending a silent prayer to the gods, she pushed and scrambled through the dancers, once even accidentally ripping apart two wizards who were locked in a passionate embrace. Trying to both apologize and avoid turning back, Hermione yelled out something incomprehensible before finally freeing herself from the mob and throwing herself onto a leather barstool.

Almost the moment she managed to catch her breath, the bartender appeared in front of her and said, "Jeez, you look like you could use a drink. What would you like? It'll be on the house."

Still a bit winded, Hermione opened her mouth to order something and then closed it as it hit her that she had absolutely no idea what sort of drinks tasted good.

Instantly, someone else slid onto the stool next to her and smoothly responded, "How about two lemon drop martinis? I'll pay."

Hermione turned her head to meet her rescuer and nearly lost her breath all over again.

He was undeniably handsome, whoever he was. He had tousled brown hair that curled rather endearingly next to his hazel eyes, and a smile made up of gleaming white teeth. As he grinned at her, two equally adorable dimples came out of nowhere, and Hermione suddenly remembered that she had always had a thing for dimples.

"Uh…thank you," she mumbled, inwardly wincing as she realized that she sounded like she had the IQ of a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

The handsome man rotated in her direction, and Hermione caught a glance of smooth tan skin hiding behind the white collar of his shirt. Give it a rest, Hermione, she admonished herself as she felt her face heat up. You don't even know his name and you're already fantasizing about him.

The man stuck out his hand and smiled. "Hi, my name is Eric Crawford. I don't think I've seen you around here before – do you come here often?"

Hermione took his hand and shook it, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers. "Er, no. This is actually my first time here. I came with a friend, but she lost interest in me the moment we arrived, so I've been moping around here, waiting to be rescued." Shut up! Shut up! You're babbling, Hermione!

Eric laughed. "So here you are, a poor, lost lamb waiting for your caretaker to come and find you?"

Hermione nodded sheepishly before sitting up with a jolt. "Oh, goodness!" she exclaimed. "I haven't even introduced myself yet. Forgive me." With that, she cleared her throat and extended her hand towards him again. "Hello, my name is Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Eric."

Eric grabbed hold of her hand and earnestly peered into her eyes. "The Hermione Granger?" he asked incredulously. "The one's who's called the most brilliant witch of our time…you're really her?"

Hermione again felt her cheeks turning red and said, "Yes, it is me."

"Good lord," he exclaimed in excitement. "Wait until I tell the boys this! I met the beautiful Hermione Granger at a nightclub, and she actually had a conversation with me!"

At that moment, the bartender placed the martinis in front of them and took a couple of galleons from Eric, preventing Hermione from immediately answering. Once she had soothed her dry throat with the tangy citrus drink, she giggled and replied, "My, I had no idea I have such an admirer! And here I was thinking that everyone had forgotten about me." Giggles? Honestly? Where has all your dignity gone, Hermione! You happen to meet a handsome man, and this is what you become? An airheaded ditz with no sense of propriety whatsoever? How lowly of you!

Eric vehemently shook his head, causing his thick locks to slap the sides of his face. "No, no, Miss Hermione. You're still very, very popular. My friends and I consider you to be the best part of the legendary Golden Trio!"

Hermione shook her head in disbelief at the fact that she was still held in such high regard by some people, but willed herself to keep her ego in check. "Well, that's very sweet of you, Mr. Eric."

"Please, call me Eric. The name 'Mr. Eric' makes me feel like an old man."

"Eric, it is then. But in return, you must also call me Hermione."

Eric grinned down at her (had it been mentioned that he was also very tall?), and Hermione felt an unfamiliar thrill course up and down her spine.

"So, Eric," she said in an effort to keep her sanity and composure intact. "Where did you go to school? I don't remember ever seeing you in Hogwarts…"

"Oh, no, I went to Durmstrang," he said as he took a sip of his drink. "My parents wanted me situated far away from England for a while, so I ended up going to that school."

"Did you like it there?" Hermione asked curiously. The late Igor Karkaroff's school had been infamous for its dealings with dark magic, and for some reason, Hermione was having a difficult time imagining cheerful Eric have a good time there.

He shrugged as he traced the rim of his glass with his forefinger. "It wasn't exactly what I'd consider a phenomenal school. We Durmstrang students frequently found cause to envy the inhabitants of Hogwarts. And it didn't really help that I wasn't able to get all the support I needed to jumpstart my career."

Hermione rested her elbow on the marble counter and propped her head on her hand. "And what do you do? Apart from charm ladies at nightclubs?"

Eric winked at her before saying, "I'm a Magitect. My father was actually the one who established the Magitecture field in the modern wizarding world, and I have decided to take up the job in order to turn it into a family business."

He glanced at Hermione's face and saw the shock written all over it. "Oh, honestly," he fake-pouted. Hermione unwittingly let her gaze rest on his lips for a second before making her eyes flash back to his. "Do I really look like I'm too stupid for a job like that?"

"No! It's just that…wow, it's just incredible. I don't think I even know anyone who works in that field. It's supposed to be one of the hardest professions out there alongside being an Auror or a Healer."

"Ah, don't let yourself be too amazed," he stated matter-of-factly. "Anyone can do it if he or she just bothers to read a few books and learn a few magical equations."

Hermione said nothing. She simply let it register in her brain that this man had to be very intelligent in order to do well in such a career. Wow, stupefying looks, a good head on his shoulders, and natural charm. If only Andi were here to witness this!

As the volume of the overhead music began to increase, Eric leaned over and said something incomprehensible.

Hermione had to practically yell to make herself heard. "What?"

"I said, do you want to head over to the private compartments for a bit of peace and quiet?" he shouted.

Hermione nodded, not bothering to let herself grow hoarse by shouting. Eric then took her by the hand and led her around the huge group of people in the middle of the club to the area where the revolving alcoves were. However, just as they stepped into a small, cozy enclosure furnished with red and dark purple items, someone called Eric's name.

Eric turned to face Hermione with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Could you just wait here for a few minutes until I return?"

"Of course," she said as she gently nudged him in the side, trying not to let her fingers rest on his body. "Go ahead, I'll be here."

He solemnly placed a stray curl behind her ear and offered her another wink. "Thanks."

After he was gone, Hermione walked into the room and sat down on a plush, scarlet couch. She had barely closed her eyes to let her mind calm down for a moment when someone walked in and sighed, "Damn, he's going to kill m – Granger?"

Hermione's eyes snapped open at the sound of her name and focused on an attractive, dark-skinned young man.

"Zabini?"

...

Draco furiously stalked past a horde of simpering women as they attempted to surreptitiously drop their purses at his feet. This was it;this was the limit – Blaise had finally abandoned him one too many times. Sure, it was great having one-on-one time with a pretty girl, but did that mean that the guy had to completely vanish off the face of the earth? Could he not just stand by at some table and wait for his friend to finish up any extra business?

That damned bastard has gone too far, he thought viciously as he dodged out of a big-boned girl's way.

Simmering with frustration, Draco managed to make his way through a long line of carefree dancers without hindrance, but then just as he was about to maneuver through another flock of tittering ghouls, a velvet purse flew over in a perfect arc and landed right in front of him with a loud CHINK!

A husky voice wafted through the air. "By Helga's cup, I seem to have dropped my money." This observation was met by a scattering of tinkling laughter. "I wonder if the man will be kind enough to pick it up and return it to me."

Refraining from baring his teeth at whatever dingbat was trying to lure him in, Draco reached down and picked up the purse with two fingers. Oh, I'll return it to you, you gold-digging piece of…

"Over here, gorgeous," the voice sounded from somewhere to Draco's right.

Draco lightly pivoted on his heel to meet the source of annoyance and came face to face with a raven-haired witch wearing a slinky, deep blue dress with a plunging neckline. Although he was ninety-nine percent sure he imagined it, her chest seemed to inflate ever so slightly as his eyes gave her the once over.

"Like what you see?" the witch trilled with a smirk as she put a hand on her hip.

Draco smirked in response and swung the purse by its strings at his side. "Well," he drawled. "On a scale of one to ten, I'd maybe give you a negative two."

The witch's mouth fell into a comically-shaped "O" while her friends discussed this insult in hushed whispers. "I'm sorry," she said in a breathy tone, still working to somehow entrance him. "I didn't realize I am so unworthy of someone as heavenly as you. Tell me," she asked as she stretched her arms up in an effort to make her moderately-sized breasts perk up a bit more. "What would it take to snatch up a delectable specimen such as yourself?"

Draco almost laughed at her saccharine, hackneyed words, but instead drifted towards her so that he was only a few inches away and said, "You're not my type, darling. So why don't you take back the money you earn as a whore and use it to buy some better pick-up lines?"

And with that, he dropped the witch's money bag at her feet and walked away, whistling a merry tune to thoroughly tune out the girl's gasps and hisses of outrage.

After another few useless moments of searching for Blaise amongst the perpetually moving crowd, Draco extracted his wand from his pocket and said, "Invenio Blaise." Immediately, his wand began spinning rapidly on his palm before quivering to stop and pointing in a northwest direction.

"Figures," Draco grumbled as he gingerly stepped around a couple doing some form of grinding. "Of course the blighter would have to settle down in one of the private rooms, away from the rest of society. It'd be just like him to be lounging somewhere chatting up some girl, waiting for me to come and find him so that I can deliver the earful he so dearly deserves. I'll be damned if I let him slip away from me tonight!"

As soon as he uttered these words, Draco caught sight of Blaise sitting on a purple couch and laughing with some brown-haired witch. Muttering furiously to himself about the predictability of the vermin he called his friends, Draco strode towards the rotating recess, unaware that someone else was heading for the same destination.

Just as the doorway came into view again, Draco barged through it and paused only to be rammed into the shoulder by another man.

"Bloody hell," the unknown wizard said as he rubbed his nose with a grimace. "Who's the bloke with the steel shoulders?"

Draco indifferently replied, "That would be me." Then, he swiveled around and locked eyes with his loyal best friend who was staring at him with a strange expression. "What's wrong, Blaise?" he asked scathingly. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about me already!"

At this remark, the brunette witch stood up and turned around to see who had entered. The instant she noticed Draco, her entire body froze up and she regarded him with a mix of surprise and resentment.

She made a choking noise and tentatively asked, "Malfoy?"

Draco struggled to recall who this woman was. The long waves of somewhat unruly hair, those large brown eyes, that familiar tone of voice – he had only ever known one person to possess all these things, and it was with this realization that he breathed, "Granger?" What on earth was Know-It-All Prude Granger doing at a nightclub, of all places?

She nodded, almost imperceptibly, while the fellow who had run into Draco inquired with confusion, "Hermione? Do you know this man?"

Granger smiled ruefully at the question, her eyes still trained on Draco. "Yes, Eric. I know him very well."

Blaise, sensing the tension in the atmosphere, tried to say something, but Draco nimbly cut in. After all, he hadn't seen this witch in four years…he ought to at least find out something interesting about her.

"And how have you been, Granger?"

She seemed to have been thrown a bit off balance by the harmless question, and furrowed her brows in suspicion before replying, "Good, thank you. What about you? I've seen your company in the news multiple times. It looks like you've made quite an impression on the wizarding market."

Draco smirked, pleased that she acknowledged his growing success. Merlin knew that more often than not, people these days refused to mention his company simply because they could not bring themselves to accept the fact that Draco had managed to lug himself back up to the top even after being kicked down by society for a couple of years after the War.

"Yes, 'Sinful' is proving to be a strong competitor in the business field," he remarked with an air of nonchalance. "But you didn't elaborate on your answer, Granger. How are Pothead and Weaselbee doing?"

Granger quirked an eyebrow and said, "Harry and Ron are doing fine, Malfoy. They're widely considered to be the Ministry's top Aurors and are constantly in the paper as well for their many accomplishments."

Draco scoffed at her attempt to downgrade his own achievements. "Right, because we all know that The-Boy-Who-Unfortunately-Lived and his faithful sidekick are so gifted when it comes to wielding the power of magic. I'm surprised Weasel could even afford a wand, what with his impoverished family populating half of Britain."

He noted with relish that Granger's face was slowly gaining a dull pink tint, and he could practically see the spark of fire beginning to burn in her eyes. Merlin, I've missed making Granger's life miserable.

"Ah, but Granger," he continued. "Don't tell me you're an Auror, too – after all, I thought the Ministry had some sort of standards when it came to that sort of thing. It would make them seem a bit desperate to employ inadequate muggles, now wouldn't it?"

Blaise frowned in disapproval at Draco's words and began, "Draco, mate, I don't quite think that this is –"

"You haven't changed a bit, have you?" Granger spat, ignoring Blaise. "It's been four years since we last encountered each other, Malfoy, and you still haven't let enough oxygen reach your brain to help you realize that it's a whole new world now. You've yet to stop droning on and on about that same old muggles versus purebloods nonsense which got you into trouble in the first place…or wait, do you not remember the fact that most of the people in your social circle are still twiddling their thumbs in the dankest corners of Azkaban? Don't try to deny it, ferret boy! It's a new era and you're still hankering for some sort of muggle apocalypse to occur."

Why, that bitch.

Draco clenched his hands into fists and felt the familiar prickling of animosity on his skin as he snarled, "Don't try to preach your sermons to me, Granger. The only one who ever truly deserved to kick the bucket was you, and unfortunately, that didn't happen because you happened to have a bunch of rotten blood-traitors and criminals on your side. And, if I'm not mistaken, you let your protectors fall like a house of cards – after all, it's all worth it in the end if it's to save Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of our time...oh, I'm sorry. Did I say 'witch'? I meant to say bitch, because that's what you are. So don't try and patronize me, Granger. You and your army of degenerates were the whole damn reason for the War. Pathetic little mudbloods thinking they can overtake the land – you're like a thorn in our sides!"

Blaise and Granger both gaped at him with slack jaws and identically thunderstruck expressions. Blaise rapidly shook his head and lifted his hands in order to properly articulate whatever he was thinking, but he was interrupted again.

A large hand clamped down on Draco's shoulder and spun him around, resulting in him facing a livid Eric.

"Sorry," Eric hissed as he glared at Draco who coolly stared back. "But you can't talk to Hermione that way, you son of a bitch."

Draco glanced at the hand tightly gripping his shoulder before sneering, "Pity – you didn't have that bad of a face."

The other man barely had time to fully comprehend the threat, because by then, Draco had swiftly grabbed hold of Eric's wrist with his left hand, twisted it mercilessly, and then driven his elbow into the wizard's face. Blaise started to dash towards them while shouting a string of expletives, but before he could reach either of them, Eric launched himself forward with a yell and tackled Draco to the ground.

Draco hurriedly latched onto Eric's wrists and strained to push him off. They both got to their feet, and Draco, still maintaining his vise-like grip on Eric, grunted with considerable effort, "Care to dance, darling?"

Eric, enraged, used Draco as leverage and served a ferocious blow straight to the stomach with his foot. Suddenly overcome with nauseating agony, Draco hunched over and sank to the carpet with a groan. In the blink of an eye, the other wizard lunged forward again, obviously eager to inflict more damage. The fucking tosser won't give it a rest, will he?

Somewhere behind him, he could hear Granger crying out, "Stop it! Eric, stop, no, get off of him! He's not worth it!" As her shrieks filled the air, Blaise strove to force Eric away, but instead received a hard punch to the jaw as a reward for his intentions.

The two rolled around on the floor, throwing wild punches and trying to deliver vicious kicks, until Eric reached out and wrapped his fingers around a large bottle of firewhiskey.

In a flash, Granger flew forward and tried to wrestle away the bottle from Eric's hand. "Damn it, Eric," she hollered while working to avoid the whirlwind of flailing arms. "He's not bloody worth it! Just back off and leave it alone!"

"Stay away, Hermione!" Eric roared as Blaise tugged Granger away. "I'm not going to let this bastard get away with this, no matter what!"

Then, he lifted the bottle high over his head, his narrowed hazel eyes flashing dangerously. Draco, realizing what was about to happen, struggled for all he was worth but found that the blasted wanker had expertly pinned him to the floor. Not a second later, he felt something heavy crash down on his head and drench him in liquid.

There was blinding pain for a second until it gave way to unconsciousness. The last thing Draco remembered before he was swallowed by nothingness was feeling the weight of Eric's body disappearing and smelling a faint scent of vanilla as someone leaned over him…

...

Links to see what Eric looks like (thanks to Starangel0 for this!)take out the spaces :

http : / images. buddytv. com /articles/supernatural / images/jared - padalecki- supernatural-2 . j p g

h t t p : / www . freewebs . com / jaredsolo / qwer . jpg

h t tp: / 70.38.46. 108/data/ media / 12 /Jared%20 Padalecki % 205.j p g

...

Starangel0 - Yes, Eric and Draco tumbling around sounds pretty good to me! Front-row seats, anyone?

Focid - I even thought the word CLICHE in my head while I was typing the last few sentences, but I decided to ignore it because otherwise I was going to sink into a vortex of writer's block. But I hope you'll like my next chapters!

amazingtofu - Yeah, I had fun writing that part of Hermione's thoughts. It was so easy to channel myself into it!

Azriel - Auras - Thanks as usual for your valuable advice.

Bartlebyisthename - So...do you think your Draco got the space he deserved? =)