Author's Note: I apologize in advance. :x

—Chapter 9—

Accompanying Song: Touch Me - Superhumanoids

"Hermione," Harry pleaded.

With a shove, she pushed off from the table. "Harry, I said no."

"But why?"

Her cold gaze landed on her best friend. He never seemed to understand such simple things and, while she normally had patience, her patience was wearing thin now. She was nearing 11 weeks, and, though it was two weeks since she had seen the other half of her favorite couple, being on the cusp of her second trimester left her with little time for things that were not work, planning for the baby, or sleeping.

The last thing she wanted to do was to go to some stuffy nightclub where she wasn't even able to drink just to appease Ginny. She was lacking the energy to stay up that late, the effort to be in public, and the patience for this topic that Harry seemed to bring up hourly.

"Harry Potter, I am a mother. Being parents yourselves, you think the two of you would be more sympathetic," her voice held a bite, but today he would not be deterred.

"It is her favorite muggle DJ. There won't be any reporters, any prying eyes, and I'll even get us a booth that you can retreat back to."

"That's not the point, and you know it!" Her foot stomped like an agitated child.

"Then why don't you enlighten me?"

Harry had the patience of a saint. Though, anyone would need it to not only be married to Ginny Weasley nee Potter but to now have two children with the young woman.

"Harry," she gave an exasperated sigh. "I am 11 weeks pregnant! I have pains in places I didn't even know had the ability to feel pain! Why couldn't you ask me to do something like watch a movie with her or take a nap?"

"Hermione, this would mean the world to her.." Harry trailed off, reaching for his best friend's hand. "Please. You owe me. I told Ron for you. Do you know what that was like?"

A satisfied smirk curled her lips at the mental image of how Ron's face always came within a few shades of matching the color of his hair when he was angry.

"Alright, alright." She held up a finger, "under one condition!"

"Name it."

"This was my idea to go, and I want that booth still."

"That's tw—"

"My idea. Booth."

And with that, Hermione resumed her walk back to her office, the conversation completely over for her.

She loved them both to death, but they just might be the actual death of her.

She supposed she wouldn't have it any other way.

There was one thing she did truly love about muggle establishments: the anonymity.

Sure, Harry couldn't use his social status to grant them front of the line access, but there also wasn't an onslaught of bodies constantly vying for their attention. They were just another group of adults enjoying a night on the town, just the way she liked it.

While Ginny had initially made her discontent known at having to find out the big news second hand, through Harry nonetheless, she now was back to her bubbly self. She had been bouncing on her toes, gushing over the DJ and his setlist the duration of their time in the line. At this point, Hermione had zoned out, giving only the occasional nod to feign her attention. Something else had captured her attention.

Or, rather, someone else.

Hermione had felt she looked like a whale in the skin tight asymmetrical dress, but Draco had a different thought. Her fiancé had been unable to keep his hands to himself and wouldn't let the fact they were in a crowd deter him. What started as brief touches that could pass as purely innocent, the skim of his fingers over her exposed thigh or the brush of his lips across the column of her neck, had quickly escalated.

The heavy bass poured through the double wide doors ahead and many of the bodies in line were swaying to the beat as they waited. Draco let them be no exception to this. His palms slid over the curve of her hips as he pressed into her backside. With an occasional tug, he had kept her form flesh against his hips. Each sway of their bodies brushed her across his groin where his growing enjoyment of the evening was evident.

"Draco," she faintly hissed.

Noticing Ginny casting him a sidelong glance, his hands shifted to protectively caress her abdomen.

"Yes, love?" The fake innocence dripping from his word caused her to roll her eyes.

"We are in public," her voice barely contained to a whisper.

"I thought the purpose of this place was to dance?"

Luck was on her side as the couple in front of their group was allowed entrance leaving them next. Hermione scooted forward and Ginny pounced on the opportunity to excitedly hook their arms together.

"Here we go!" Ginny bounced up and down, her heels clicking on the cobblestone.

The dim atmosphere around them was only broken by the occasional flash of a dance light panning past their group. Harry led the pack, picking their way through the crowd to the VIP section where he managed to score them a booth, as requested. Hermione could hardly hear anything that was said to her unless Ginny was shouting in her face, and Draco used the excuse of how packed the club was to once more glue himself to her body.

The bouncer lifted the velvet rope to grant them passage and Ginny bound past Harry towards the booth furthest away. Hermione had to admit, this was much fancier than most dive bars that Ginny had dragged her to in the past. Their small slice of the VIP section overlooked not only the dance floor, but had a clear shot of the stage where the DJ booth was set up. A private bar ran along the back of the room behind them. She could spend the entire evening in this area without having to be in contact with any other humans.

Of course, fate was not on her side.

Ginny clasped on to one of her wrists, her free hand already leading Harry.

"Come on! Just a couple songs then you can go back up to your roost, mother hen!"

Hermione caught Draco's hand. Not that he would object, but if she was going, so was he.

Once more they shimmied past other patrons and this time wound their way to the dance floor.

As soon as they stopped moving, Ginny released Hermione and began what she assumed was dancing to this style of music, but could also just be described as jumping up and down while waving your arms. Harry, as much as he tried not to, looked awkward as he attempted to fall into sync with his wife's moves. Hermione could only laugh at the scene unfolding. She was grateful that she relented to Harry's persistent pleading. She was enjoying herself, and she missed this. Missed them.

Draco's arm encircling her waist brought her back out of her thoughts and into the moment. His hips on hers swayed to the beat of the song. She lifted her arms up above her head and wrapped them back around Draco's neck, bracing herself against his chest.

"Where did you learn to dance like this?"

"What? Did you think I spent all day sulking at the manor?"

"Well, yeah," Hermione laughed, shooting him a playful wink.

Draco growled against her ear, his hands on her thighs dragging her back into his hips once more, this time more forcefully than last. "I could show you quite a few things, love."

Hermione went against his own moves, arching her back to thrust her backside into his groin and give a slow, tantalizing rotate of her hips. "As I could with you."

As each song rolled into the next, they spent their time bordering between a sweet, sensual sway and touches that could have them relocated from the premises for indecent behavior. Occasionally, Ginny and Harry would float back past them before once more disappearing into the sea of people, and Draco always was sure to be on his best behavior in those moments.

A growing heat in Hermione's core from their movements had her aching to flee the stuffy club and back to their flat. Her hormones had left her in a constant insatiable state. Every caress sent a wave of ecstasy rippling across her flesh, and Draco was not naive. Frequently, she found herself wondering just how vacant and sanitary the bathroom there might be or if a dark corner was just discreet enough.

Before she had a chance to voice her thoughts, Ginny was once more bouncing in front of them, this time shouting over the music.

"Will you grab drinks and meet us back at the booth? I want at least one song with my girl before she spends the rest of the evening dry humping you there," Ginny bat her eyelashes at Draco, her signature move.

Draco must have nodded as the arm that had been protectively clutching her vanished and with it her fiancé.

Ginny snagged both of Hermione's hands, doing some innocent twist and twirl to the beat.

"Are you glad you came?"

"Of course not," but Hermione's smirk betrayed her.

"I'm glad you came," a slight frown crossed her features. "I feel like I hardly see you anymore."

"I promise I will start coming around again." Hermione swept her up into a hug, "Perhaps I'll even brave the Burrow on Sunday?"

"Sounds like a deal."

Clasping hands, the girls began to meander back through the crowd towards their seat. Hermione always allowed Ginny to lead in these situations as she was more willing to throw an elbow if necessary.

As Ginny's shoulder shoved into the side of one of the patrons, the girl spoke out to them.

"Hermione?"

Hermione swiveled to look back at the girl, pulling Ginny to a stop with her. "I'm sorry, I don't believe we have-"

"It's Daphne, Daphne Greengrass. I was a Slytherin in your year."

Feigning having recognized her, Hermione shot her a smile, "Daphne! Good to see you. What are you doing here? I didn't think we would run into anyone we knew here of all places."

The blonde haired girl shrugged, "came to get into a bit of mischief with my sister. Though, it seems she has found the same bit of it she always gravitates towards." She hiked a thumb over her shoulder to motion towards the bar.

The girl was much younger than them, but Hermione recognized her as being a year under Ginny at Hogwarts. Her petite body was wrapped in a black dress so tight that Hermione was sure a seam would burst if she moved too much. With a flip of her hand, she tossed her the raven hued locks over her shoulder, a signature flirtatious move that Hermione recognized from Ginny. Her smile was dazzling, captivating those around her, and her hand gently caressed the cheek of a blonde man beside her.

Hermione's stomach lurched as she recognized just who Daphne's sister was cozying up to.

The younger Greengrass sister leaned towards Draco, her face only mere inches away from his.

He must not be able to hear her well, Hermione rationalized.

"I always knew fate would bring them back together," Daphne's words pierced through the ringing that had begun to fill her ears.

"That's unfortunate. He's seeing someone." Ginny's retorted, her tone cold and biting.

Hermione couldn't react, couldn't speak. Her heart hammered against the cage of her chest, threatening to burst forth.

"Astoria is destined to be with him, I assure you."

As if on cue, Astoria closed the distance between herself and Draco. Guiding his face forward with her hands, her lips descended upon his.

Hermione was unable to break away. Like a car crash, the world around her seemed to slow and the roar of her own thundering heart drowned out all other noise. The breath she had been holding was forced from her lungs upon impact. Despite how weak her legs felt beneath her, she felt herself moving.

Without a glance backwards, her feet broke free from where they had been rooted and pulled her through the club. Shouts of her name floated behind her, but her mind could not react. She was on autopilot, survival instincts kicking. Clearing the dance floor, Hermione broke into a run. Her shoes were hastily discarded as she disappeared into the sea of bodies, their forms swaying and filling in behind in her wake to obscure her escape route.

Bursting through the doors of the exit, her body would not cease. She found herself running. Running from her friends, from him, from the inevitable breakdown that was threatening to swallow her. Shattered glass lanced her feet and tore through the skin like shrapnel leaving the crimson dripping from them to mix among standing water on the pavement. Her steps did not falter, her mind numb to the physical pains that were screaming at her to stop from her bloodied feet to her burning lungs.

Grass slick from the advancing morning dew caught her off guard and sent her to her knees. She was covered in blood, in dirt, in tears, when the breakdown she had been fleeing consumed her.

Why?