"We've not been out clubbing in months, it seems an opportune time." Hermione snorted as she looked at the deep red parchment in Draco's hand, and with a quick wand wave accio'd it to her grip.
"Ah, and the fact that it comes from Blaise Zabini and states there is a conversation worth having doesn't have a thing to do with it, I suppose?"
"There are always reasons, love, you know that, but that doesn't mean that once the business is conducted that we cannot have a good time. A club in Knockturn Alley that has become quite the rage? I'm interested to see it."
"Knockturn Alley? Is that really a good idea?" He smirked.
"Probably not, but we're going anyway. No one will ever truly forget what I am, what we are, Hermione, I won't hide from it. I like being a rather dark wizard, too much light makes me faintly nauseous." She grinned at the way his lips twisted in scorn at the thought that his life would be completely overwhelmed with lightness.
"And have you any guesses as to the topic if this conversation?"
"No idea, but if he is requesting a conversation then it at least bears hearing him out. I find it interesting that he is the owner of one of the only nightclubs that caters to both muggleborn and pureblood and that there hasn't been more controversy over the place."
"In other words there is more of a conspiracy of silence to keep it open than to make it exclusive. It must be quite a place."
"Of that I have no doubt. Look at the dress code on the parchment." Her eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Club wear, goth or fetishwear required? Curiouser and curiouser."
"So, to London? I find my wardrobe quite lacking in all respects to this, and I do confess to a fascination to seeing you in anything that might be considered fetishwear."
"I am not wearing leather bras or assless chaps if that's what you're thinking." He laughed aloud and shook his head.
"Not quite what I had in mind, though the leather bra might be interesting. Come on love, grab the credit cards and we'll start from the London flat and take the limo."
"If I'd known how amazing we look in goth clothes I would have insisted on going to that type of club long ago." Hermione rolled her eyes at his unabashed conceit as he evaluated them both in the nearly 360 degree mirrors in the master suite closet. Closet, hah, she thought, still amazed that a closet would have a sofa in it. The closet alone was almost the size of her whole bedsit in London.
"You can still be such a ponce sometimes," she sighed, though she had to admit he was right. He raised one eyebrow, and she felt her pulse increase. He noted it and smirked.
"It's not poncey to acknowledge that you're beautiful, especially when it's obvious. We really are probably the handsomest wizard couple in Europe, you know."
"Well, you are anyway," she admitted. "And if we don't get out of here you won't make it out of the closet much less the bedroom." He curled an arm around her, fondling one full breast and sliding his other hand under her skirt. She moaned, and arched against his hands, eyes falling closed.
"That doesn't sound so bad," he said huskily. "As long as you keep the stockings and heels on. They really are amazing." He began to manouver them to the sofa and she pulled away reluctantly.
"Oh no, you aren't getting away with not dancing with me dressed like that Draco Malfoy. We will have plenty of fun later." Her eyes scorched over him predatorially. "And you'll be keeping most of that on, except where it gets in the way." His smirk was triumphant.
"I told you we looked good." She sighed. He was right, as annoying as it was. His black mesh shirt and leather pants molded every line of muscle and sinew, the left arm of tattoo work almost shining with the brilliant green and silver in the design. The outline of the mark on his back showed clearly through the material, and he wore dragon hide boots, and just enough white gold jewelry to set off his platinum hair and silver eyes. He had not affected the makeup that they had seen in the shops they visited, declaring he was not about to girl himself up to that degree. She agreed with relief, though he had overseen her own application of heavy eyeliner and lip paint. Her hair was artfully disheveled, and her dress barely covered what was necessary to be considered legal, much less decent. Micro mini in black leather with decorative buckles, fishnet stockings, ripped in places, suspenders clearly visible, thigh high patent leather stilleto heeled boots, and a scrap of fabric that covered her breasts and went to midriff, then laced from her sides across her back to stay on. She wore a crimson ribbon choker with a serpent pendant that curled down into her cleavage, and was enchanted to slither across her skin when she was approached. She wore matching earrings and an armband that were similarly enchanted and were quite unnerving looking. She looked like she would Avada someone without thinking twice. In fact, she bore a more than passing resemblance in some respects to Bellatrix, which rather appalled her. However, she couldn't deny that she looked good; being with Draco had served to increase her confidence by a great degree as had being forced to see her own picture in the paper constantly.
"Let's go before we get distracted." He smiled, and offered her his arm.
They took a thestral drawn coach similar to those used at Hogwarts, only open and decorated with the Malfoy family crest. It was charmed so the elements could not affect the passengers and was driven, to her chagrin, by a house elf. They debarked at the head of the line into the club and were assaulted by the heavy beat of the music pounding into the alley. There was a line nearly all the way back out to Diagon Alley of people waiting to get in, and Hermione noted that they seemed to be a mix of young people and middle aged, some dressed in club wear, and some obviously wealthy in more formal robes, and even Muggle suits. It was an odd mix, and she filed the information away, sure it was relevant but not sure why or how. The front of the club was unprepossessing, a simple neon sign in flowing cursive that simply said "Bacchanalia". She paused before debarking and Draco gave her a wicked grin.
"Like the name, I see. Knowing Blaise this should be quite a place."
"Are you sure this is a good idea? What if the press shows up?" He shrugged as they were ushered in past the line without having to say a word.
"Bugger the press, they probably know better than to show their noses around here." The noise was more subdued inside than out, a cute trick, Hermione thought briefly as Blaise Zabini walked up, dressed in a rich suit of Acromantula silk in a vibrant maroon and black. It showcased his dark looks to perfection and stated clearly exactly how well the club business was treating him. Draco gave a laconic smile to his old housemate and extended a hand. Blaise took it with a raised eyebrow and used it to lever the blond into a rough embrace. Only Hermione was able to register the surprise in her lovers eyes, and the flash of suspicion as he calmly accepted and returned the embrace.
"You've done well here," he said when Blaise broke the embrace and stepped back. The other looked around in satisfaction and montioned them to follow with a minute tilt of his chin.
"You know me, Malfoy, work within the system and make it work for you. After the war people wanted to forget the bad, have a little pleasure. That's where I come in. All sorts of people come here, you know, looking for escape. That's what I provide. The press know better than to try to come here, you needn't worry, though with that entrance it doesn't look like you're too concerned. Better to arrive with flair than sneak, yeah?"
"Exactly. I do as I like, that needs to be understood."
"Then you haven't changed so much in certain ways." Finally he looked at Hermione with an appraising, calculated stare that would have unnerved a lesser woman. She raised one eyebrow slowly and looked down her nose in her best impression of Narcissa Malfoy, the one female she equated with a superciliousness ingrained enough to freeze the balls off a yeti. To her shock Blaise nodded slowly and a rich smile broke over his face, perfect white teeth flashing in the subdued lighting.
"Hermione Granger, I wondered if you'd ever really come into your own, bravo. Never let us bastards beat you, did you? But Malfoy? I'm so much better looking and I'd make you queen of all this." She chuckled as Draco gave Blaise a look that promised death later.
"I think I can give Hermione a far more superior…" he trailed off in shock as she pinched his bum and grinned up at him.
"Shut up, Malfoy. I already picked you, you don't need to strut and preen." Blaise laughed aloud in delight at his momentarily nonplussed reaction, and gestured to a door off to the right.
"Damn, I would love to hear the story of the two of you sometime. The one you gave the papers was sweet but to anyone that ever knew Malfoy it's an utter crock of shit. At any rate, there is someone else here I think you might like to get reacquainted with. I could not have done most of this without his expertise and skill." His eyes softened with something that to Hermione looked suspiciously like affection, though seeing that on the face of a former Slytherin was a bit disconcerting. "He isn't much for the front of the house, he prefers to say back here developing our ambiance you might say." He opened the door and they stepped into a room that was far larger than it should be able to be in a building the size they were in. Hermione gasped, looking at the huge greenhouse that was currently in a state of artificial night, reflecting the time outside. There was even a simulated star and moonscape. She could pick out a figure carefully stroking pollen from a rare form of orchid, placing it into a tiny phial.
"Darling, they came." Draco's eyebrow flew nearly into his hairline at the term of endearment, and the fact that it was directed at someone obviously male. The figure straightened and turned and Hermione made a muffled squeak then ran for the man. He set the phial down and opened his arms, enveloping her into a hug that made Draco growl deep in his throat.
"Neville, Merlins ghost, I thought you were dead!" Neville Longbottom smiled quietly, patting her back, and met Draco's shocked eyes over her head.
"Apparently I'm not that easy to kill after all," he said quietly, rocking her like a child. "It's so good to see you Hermione. Malfoy," he nodded over her head, no rancor in his voice. Draco nodded back, still in a state of shock.
"Amazing how those Gryffindors grow on you, isnt't it?" Blaise asked quietly from his elbow. Draco didn't bother to respond, only crossed his arms over his chest.
"I always did think you were a poof." Blaise chuckled.
"Brilliant deduction there, Malfoy since I tried to seduce you through most of our school years, or had you forgotten?"
"I think I would remember being held against a wall and snogged under a sprig of mistletoe before Christmas holidays by a bloke, wouldn't I?"
"Dear Merlin, I had forgotten that. We couldn't have been more than second years, were we?" He laughed. "The look on your face was priceless. I don't think I had ever seen anyone look so utterly scandalized before. But this little reunion of our houses is only part of the reason I brought you here."
"I thought as much."
"It was Neville's idea, of course. The man can be surprisingly vicious when he wants to be, but he has his reasons. As you have guessed by now the clubs biggest draw is the wonderous concoctions we make and distribute inside, and the anonymity in which our clients can consume them and then celebrate their, ah, feelings. Neville grows the ingredients and we have a potioneer from France that would give Snape a run for his money. Acts a bit like him too, come to think of it, must be the fumes. At any rate, when I say all sorts of clients that's exactly what I mean. Especially ministry clients."
"And I assume you keep extensive records of the visits."
"You always were quick on the uptake." He took a tiny box from his jacket and handed it to Draco, who held it up, looking at the magical traces that showed the shrinking and lightening charms on it. "Use the information as you see fit; make them bleed." He sounded surprisingly bitter.
"This is personal for you."
"They nearly killed him." Draco followed his old housemates eyes to where Neville and Hermione were now talking quietly, their heads together. "After you were banished and everything started to go tits up in the Ministry they started seeing Death Eaters in every corner. The Aurors were doing a sweep one night; Neville was out tending a special patch of some type of moonflower when they came across him. They nearly beat him to death, hexed him into a coma, then when they realized they had attacked an innocent they left him there to die. I suppose they thought they could blame it on a real Death Eater attack. Thank Merlin I found him and got him to Saint Mungo's in time. He couldn't go outside for months afterward. He still can't stand to go outside alone after dark. Permanent spell damage they say, it's minor but it's there. That's why I created this place for him. He doesn't have to go outside to tend his plants. It's what makes him happiest, and by Merlin he's brilliant. He's developed strains of some more common ingredients so potent that brewing with them is downright dangerous for someone not used to them."
"So you're making what exactly, aphrodisiacs, hypnotics, and then letting the party go as it will? No wonder the press aren't allowed in."
"Nothing addictive or damaging, Neville won't stand for it, and there are laws against it. What I do is perfectly legal, actually. Now what some people get up to in here might be embarrassing in the extreme, but I don't allow anything criminal in here. I gave you those records knowing they will likely be the end of this place, but something needs to be done and Neville and I both think you two are maneuvering to do it. It needs to happen soon, Draco. I've got a bad feeling that there is something brewing in the government and if you don't make your move before then it'll have to be all out war again, and we can't take another war, it'll wipe us out. Besides, you'd make a shit Dark Lord." Draco barked a laugh at that, giving Blaise a considering look.
"You're serious about this, aren't you? All for Longbottom?"
"You'd do it for her, wouldn't you?" He sighed, thinking of exactly what he had already done for the sake of the swotty little know-it-all.
"I suppose you have a point. Thank you, and for her sake you have my word that I will only use this as a last resort. You have built a good thing here for yourselves. She would be, displeased, to see it destroyed for no reason."
"I think her displeasure would be a fearsome thing indeed." Draco snorted.
"You have no idea. You saw what happened to Greyback, it was in all the papers." Blaise nodded.
"She did that in the dark without a wand, just two knives and her bare hands."
"Dear Merlin. I always thought that Potter was the dangerous one in the Trio."
"Who do you think taught him most of what he used in the final battle?" Blaise looked at her again, a new respect in his eyes.
"Well, well, well. Perhaps someday you will tell me the real story between you."
"Perhaps," he said neutrally, sending the box to the manor with a thought and a gesture. He didn't notice Blaise's eye widen at the display of magic, then narrow consideringly.
"So, let's split them up, and then you can join the party. I have a lovely little elixer that should guarantee a fascinating evening. We call it Blue Bliss. It's the new rage."
"I think not, thanks anyway, I never take recreational potions, you know that." Blaise shrugged, and with the unspoken communion of long time lovers Neville nodded to Hermione and then back to his plants. They exchanged another hug and smile, and she walked back to Draco.
"You look happy." She nodded.
"Neville said he would come over in a few days and catch up. I heard about his attack just before I had to run, I thought he died in St. Mungo's. And with Blaise Zabini no less."
"It looks to be the real thing." She nodded.
"It is, at least for Neville. He's happy. What did you and Blaise talk about?"
"Several things, the past, the present, the future. The very near future, in fact. He had a gift for us. We'll look it over when we get back to the manor. For the nonce however," he smiled slowly. "I am in a very good mood after the conversation and I think we should see exactly what sort of debauchery those two have going in this place. It might appeal to us."
"Really?" They opened the door, neither noticing as Blaise stayed behind to talk to Neville, and walked down the hall into the club proper.