Drabble 05: All she knew was that rain was drizzling down from the London night sky, and the brick wall digging into her back was the only thing that brought her back down to Earth.
Set: After 7th book.
Rating: M
Song: Heads Will Roll by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Off with your head!
She could still hear the song playing from the alleyway next to the club she had been in. Damn him for being there, and for looking so bloody gorgeous.
Dance till you're dead!
She had been minding her own business, dancing with random strangers, their bodies all mingling together to the beat of the most popular songs. Her hair was sticking to her neck, and the alcohol was running through her veins.
Heads will roll.
The moment he walked in, she knew. He attracted attention and oozed confidence and sophistication. Boys and girls looked in his direction as if they knew he was the one they had always wanted.
The men cry out, the girls cry out!
Her movements had slowed, and the people around her seemed to thin. His eyes locked with her own, and she knew she was done. There would be no stopping him now. He had finally found her.
Off, off, off with your head!
They hadn't seen one another since the war, and a lot had happened since then. Harry had realized that his love for the Weasley sister was for the brother as well. The idea that Harry was bisexual had thrown many through a loop, especially when Ron reciprocated Harry's love for him. Now it was Ron and Ginny fighting for Harry's attention all the time.
Dance, dance, dance till you're dead.
She had heard that Draco had been off doing many things. She heard he traveled the world, and she didn't blame him for running away after the war. Too many bad things had happened during the war that fleeing had been her main option for many months afterward. She never did though. She just couldn't bring herself to leave her friends behind. Draco didn't seem them type to care much though. She envied that.
Looking glass, take the past.
"What are you doin' here, Granger?" His voice was smooth velvet when it reached her ears. How had he gotten so close to her? His breath was warming her cheek.
Shut your eyes, you realize.
"Dancing." It was the only thing she could manage out as his hand went to her hip. The dress was black, tight, and short. He was so close to touching the bare skin of her thigh that all thought was stopped. His smirk showed that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. He always did though. Ever since they dated secretly starting their fourth year, he had known exactly where to touch, kiss, and what to say. He was a natural at making girls cry out in pleasure, and he was egotistic enough to know it.
Glitter on the wet streets.
How they got outside, she didn't know. All she knew was that rain was drizzling down from the London night sky, and the brick wall digging into her back was the only thing that brought her back down to Earth.
Silver over everything.
Her fingers were threading through his hair as he pounded her into oblivion. Curses were said under his breath as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. Her dress was pushed up her thighs, and her hair looked a mess. His pants were at his ankles, and his shirt was halfway off.
You're all chrome.
Neither of them knew what they were doing. They weren't supposed to be together. They stopped their relationship after the war, after they realized they could lose each other any day. Somehow though, every time they saw each other at that club, the alleyway was their only destination.
Dance, dance, dance till you're dead.
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