Hermione froze as she faced her best friend. Any other time, her response would have been a bone-crushing hug until he begged for mercy, but this time, she just froze. After all, it was hardly the way she wanted to be dressed to see him.
Frozen, she was unable to do anything as his emerald green eyes brightened while he looked at her. It was inevitable that he would recognize her. "… s-special reward for the groom," she found herself stammering still, delivering a botched version of her introduction. It was absurd, but it was the best she was able to do while panicking.
He said nothing, just smirked as his gaze wandered all the way down her and all the way back up again, making her feel
"Well, this is a surprise!" he said.
"Why?" Hermione said, ready to explain the way she was dressed. It wasn't how she wanted to be her first discussion since forever too, but she found herself unable to say anything else.
Harry just smirked. "Well, I didn't know my best friend had so many people willing to send him special entertainment."
Hermione sighed, happy that he didn't recognize her. Happy … but a little disappointed as well. As much as it would have been shameful, Hermione would have preferred for her best friend to recognize her. It was just another evidence just how they had grown apart.
So, when he caught her gaze and smirked, Hermione only felt annoyance despite just how winning the smile had been. "Well, are you going to lead me inside, or keep me here?"
"As much as it's tempting to keep you in the cold," Harry started, and Hermione noticed his pointed glance at her breasts, where her nipples were showing exactly how cold the weather was. She huffed in annoyance put her hand on his chest, and pushed him aside.
Or, tried to push. She was quick to find out that in his absence, Harry had gotten much stronger … and muscular. She found herself blushing. "Yeah, they have those effects," he said with a crooked smile that looked utterly alien on his face.
She avoided his gaze under his winning smile.
"Alright, enough teasing," he said. "Let me get you a drink while you wait your turn," he said. "Would you prefer to wait alone, or join the party?"
"A-alone —" Hermione started before a very important detail clicked. "What do you mean, waiting my turn!"
Harry shrugged. "Well, his lap is currently occupied. I told you, you're not the only gift for the bachelor."
Hermione wanted to … she didn't know what she wanted, but her lips worked faster. "The party is fine," she found herself saying.
"Excellent," he said. "Now, let me bring you to the party," he said as he reached, landing his hand on the small of her back. His touch was just another reminder of the thinness of the dress she was wearing. However, a few seconds later, she wished that the dress she had been wearing was her biggest problem. "As I said, he's currently busy."
No, the moment she entered, her biggest problem turned out to be Ron. Or, more accurately, the whore that was on his lap as he wore nothing but boxers, going back and forth while her barely covered tits dangled.
Lavender - fucking - Brown.
Hermione didn't know which was worse. The fact that Lavender was rocking on Ron's lap, wearing nothing but a slutty variant of a cheerleader outfit in Gryffindor colors, showed another thing Ron had embraced about the muggle world.
Or the fact Lavender was wearing a tiny mask, which, unlike her magical mask, had changed absolutely nothing about her. It hid her identity from no one in the room. Somehow, it was worse than not having a mask. It felt insulting.
She wasn't the only stripper in the room, nor they were the only ongoing lap dance. Neville had a thin blonde on his lap wearing even less, and George was dealing with a busty brunette. Even Bill had a redhead on his lap, which was shocking considering he was married to Fleur.
However, none of them were actually fondling their exes, making their sin much lesser. Hermione felt anger growing.
Then, Lavender opened her mouth.
"Come on, Ronnikin, you don't have to be afraid, you can touch," Lavender gasped. "It's your night. Live a little."
"No, I won't. I promised my fiancee that there would be no touching," Ron said smugly, as if a lap dance from his old girlfriend was somehow acceptable as long as he didn't touch her. She was stunned in silence as she watched it for a while.
It was Harry who pulled him out. "As I said, he has another gift, and it looks like he'll keep it for a while," Harry said. "What do you want to do?"
Hermione knew that there were only two sane options. She could start hexing Ron, ruining his party, or turn and leave, maybe even ask Fleur to erase the memory of the visit. Yet, once again, her lips rebelled. "I think I'll take that drink," she said.
"Excellent. Wait here, and be careful of the guys. Dean in particular. He can be a bit much, especially against a bombshell like you," he said.
"Thanks," Hermione said.
"Though, I don't think you'll have many problems, considering you're a muggleborn." Hermione froze, wondering if he realized her identity. It would be too humiliating. Then, it clicked. She understood when he said bombshell, which was not something purebloods often caught.
That, and they were too rich to work as strippers, Hermione surmised.
The moment Harry left, Dean and Seamus appeared together, almost like they were summoned. "Wow, another dancer, and one not monopolized by the groom. Excellent," Dean said, his gaze filled with naked lust. Hermione blinked. Unlike Harry's measured attention, Dean's gaze made her feel annoyed. She didn't blame him. Dressed like she was, of course, he was going to lust after her. Dean was never known for his restraint, even when back in the school.
Now that he thought that she was a stripper, he acted even more openly.
Still, she would have easily pushed him away, but Ron's presence in the room, still getting a lap dance from Lavender threw her off. Yet, he didn't pay any attention, which annoyed Hermione. Yes, he thought her to be a stripper, which meant she shouldn't be angry … yet somehow she was.
The fact that he preferred Lavender over her, even with her identity hidden behind the mask, hurt.
"So, how about that dance —" Dean started, but before he could finish, Harry arrived with a drink.
"That would be no, Dean," Harry interrupted. "The groom has the first call, and if he's stupid enough to neglect her, I'll happily take her off his hands for the whole night. It's not your turn."
"Well, it's not your party, is it—" Dean said, starting smug and confident. Yet, before he could finish his words, Harry caught his gaze, his posture changing a little. Suddenly, Harry was gone … replaced by someone else.
Someone dangerous.
Hermione felt her body freeze. She wanted to say that she was afraid … but she was not. "Alright. I'm going, but just because I don't want to fight during a party," he said, which would have been more convincing if he hadn't stuttered.
Hermione was shocked at just how much Harry had changed. Not because he wasn't dangerous. He took down Voldemort, after all, and almost single-handedly cleaned the Death Eaters afterward. Yet, he never owned his power back then.
She did her best to ignore how it made her feel. Luckily, she had something to distract her. Something annoying. "Ron. Do you want to have a dance with this beautiful dancer? Believe me, she's the most beautiful you'll ever have," he said.
Lavender laughed mockingly, which hurt. "No, I think I'll stick with mine. She's better," Ron said, joining her laughter. It hurt even worse.
Hermione knew that it wasn't fair to feel like that, yet she did. Maybe it was why she said nothing when Harry grabbed her arm and brought her to a corner, then pulled her onto his lap. She should have slapped him.
Yet, when she felt his hardness under her, she felt powerful instead. It was an intoxicating feeling. It was wrong, but it felt good to be the object of someone's attention when her fiancee was happy with his old girlfriend's attention.
Here she was, in the house of her in-laws, surrounded by her friends and sitting on the lap of her best friend who she hadn't seen for a long time, about to give a lap dance, wearing the sluttiest dress she had ever worn. She felt embarrassed … but also excited. It was wrong. Very wrong.
"Are you ready," Harry said as he grabbed her hips, looking into her eyes, making her glad for the mask changing the color, making it impossible for her to recognize her. Because, otherwise, she felt naked, which caused the lust within her to spike at that thought. A small, sensual smile crept across her face.
"Ready," she muttered. After all, it was just a lap dance. Like the one that Lavender was giving to Ron. Clearly, there was no harm in it.
He smiled, and she took a signal to start. With her eyes still on his, Hermione began to rock her hips. Slowly at first and then in wider concentric circles as she let her body's desire take over.
Her hands cinched his shoulder, feeling his muscles. Another change, one she appreciated as she gyrated her hips, enjoying the presence underneath, suddenly glad for the shortness of her dress. It meant when she wandlessly vanished his pants to match Ron's state, it was only their underwear on the way.
"A question," he said, and Hermione froze for a moment, realizing her mistake. Why the hell did she cast that spell silently and wandlessly. It was something only a few could do, not exactly a skill for a stripper.
Panicked, she decided to distract him with the first thing that came to her mind. "This no touching rule, it is only for the groom," she found herself muttering even as she let the straps of her dress fall to the side, enhancing her cleavage even more.
"Excellent news," he said with a dark smirk, and Hermione froze. She would have jumped off his lap if he touched her ass, but he just brought along her spine, calming her down.
Of course, even with a stripper, Harry was a gentleman.
His restrain calmed her down, and she started rocking even faster. He touched and caressed her back, but his gaze finally slipped from her eyes, dipping down to her cleavage. At another time, she might have been annoyed by that. However, she was currently displaying the biggest cleavage she had ever displayed. The dress hung just above her nipples, her lack of a bra making it even more revealing.
"Spectacular," Harry muttered, and Hermione blushed. Yet, excited by his compliment, she said nothing even as his hands landed on her legs, climbing up gently before setting on her thighs, caressing them softly.
His touch burned, enough that she was starting to get more and more excited, enough to make her forget where she was … or even who she was.
Until a shout reminded her. "Wow, look at the best man, finally joining the fun," Lavender called. Hermione looked back, only to realize Ron had rotated the chair, and she was being watched by both.
She was about to shout at them until she remembered that she was supposed to be a stripper … or it was her fiancee who was watching her.
"Too bad he has to limit himself to an inferior stripper," Lavender continued mockingly. "The groom has the best one, after all."
"I certainly do," Ron answered with a stupid laugh.
Suddenly, Hermione was struck with a desire to prove him wrong.