*W.I.P*

A little polyjuice potion never hurt anybody… Right?

What happens when Blaise and Theo create a secret society of well connected witches and wizards? The formation of the elite goes far beyond blood status and money. A cocktail of underworld proceedings and debauchery can only equate to a club misguided by power and lust. The sanctity of the club complicates reality with fantasy. Divinity's hooks in the Deity run deep, but at what cost? For some, the polyjuice brothel is what dreams are made of. For other's it's a nightmare. What happens in Divinity—is supposed to stay in Divinity. When matters of the heart are concerned, that's not always the case.

JK Rowling owns. The plot is mine.

Here we are again! This is based on a O/s rewrite from my Bittersweet collection, with an added suggestion submitted to me by my dear friend Autumn Lily. She begged me for a polyjuice brothel fic, so fuck. Here it is. I hope I deliver. As always, if you enjoy it I'd love to know. It keeps my muse flowing ;)

This is an A/U which can mean the possibility of OOC. Multiple pairings will happen. Sexually explicit content. Drug use. Dramione is endgame!
No slut-shaming my characters, thanks!

Much love to my beta: Mr Benzedrine

GiTG x

Cormac is admiring the view of her fine arse while he fucks her from behind. Her peach has those cute little dimples on her cheeks, and the way she arches her back to accentuate her curves makes his dick so hard, he thinks he's going to explode after three thrusts.

"Fuck, yes princess!" he puffs as he glides in and out of her pussy.

He watches their reflection in the mirror, grinning at the sight before him. Her wild curls are swept to her left shoulder, but they have a mind of their own, so he grabs hold of as much hair as he can, yanking back her head so she arches more.

"You are...oh-ah...a fine specimen, Granger, you know that?" moans Cormac breathlessly.

The girl before him groans through the tie he's using as a gag. He is hungry for her in ways that can never be satisfied. His fist unclenches her hair, and he uses his hands to push her forward while continuing to grind against her. His hands reach around to fondle her delicate feel of their skin is like ecstasy, and he finds himself coming after what feels like only a few minutes of fucking her.

His burst is short and sweet, leaving him puffed and well spent. Call him a selfish lover, but when you're pounding a girl like that, the old saying "ladies first" goes out the window. Cormac is impatient and far from controlled in the bedroom department. Once he was on his way, that was that, and he didn't really give a fuck about being a gentleman. It's not like she can complain anyway. The transaction is about his needs, not hers, and that is the beauty of poly brothel at Divinity.

The girl before him rolls onto her back as her hair begins to change from untamed curls to straight blonde locks. It isn't long before her body shape and facial features twist and contort to reveal the naturally beautiful Daphne Greengrass.

"Alright love, that's your cue...parties over," says Cormac with a smirk. He taps the side of her thigh as he hastily chucks a robe at her. He hates when the effects of the juice wears off and he can't bare to face reality.

He magically removes her gag, cringing as he does.

"As always, my terms are absolute."

Daphne bows her head slightly, knowing the drill. Cormac summons his wand, flashing a pearly grin and a not-so-subtle wink.

"You're always a decent fuck Daph. Obliviate."

Draco paces back and forth in front of his lavish fireplace, his fingers clasped firmly around an empty glass. He's been pacing for so long the ice cubes have melted, and the dregs of his firewhiskey looks like watered-down apple juice. He didn't sign up for this shit. Marriage. Unfortunately, in pureblood society, many families pick and choose from birth and have solid contracts developed with the coming of age, so, like everything else in his life so far, he lacked the choice and was forced in holy matrimony to Astoria Greengrass.

Draco understands perfectly well what is expected of him as a pure blooded husband. He isn't struggling with that. But there are things he won't stand for...things he absolutely refuses. Astoria is a nightmare on legs and he now appreciates the need to live a happy life. He needs out of this union; no longer giving a fuck about bloodlines and purity.

Slamming his glass down on the ledge above the fireplace the glass shatters. Draco glances at the time and he's already late. Fuck. He hastily enters the fireplace using the floo to get to Nott Manor.

Draco arrives, stepping into Theo's drawing room. Both Theo and Blaise are chugging the remainder of their drinks. Theo gives Draco a curious turn of his head before reprimanding his tardiness.

"Nice of you to finally join us, Draco. Luckily Zabini and I own the club, so it doesn't matter that we're late."

Draco gives a curt nod to Blaise and returns to acknowledge Theo with a sneer.

"Fuck off, Nott. If you married a Greengrass, you'd be fucking late, too."

Theo's lips curl into a wicked smile, "I was going to be a smartass, but I have to agree with you on that." He proceeds, "Anyway—enough of that. You want a night off. We are here to help."

I need more than a night off, thinks Draco.

Theo and Blaise share a look between each other that Draco hasn't seen before, and it's clear they are up to something. Before he can question their motives, they drag him into the floo and are arriving in the office of the club, " Divinity ."

With this being the first time Draco's attended their club, and not knowing much about it, he can't help but ask questions.

"So, tell me—what makes your Gentlemen's club better than the rest?"

Blaise sneers, but with no hint of malice. It's sly and mischievous—the type of look he gives when he's confessing a dirty little secret. Draco admits to himself he's intrigued.

Blaise is the first the answer.

" Divinity isn't exactly what one would call a gentlemen's club," he explains casually.

Theo smirks and adds, "It's a secret society of well-connected witches and wizards."

Draco raises his brows with interest and motions them to carry on.

Blaise continues.

"All members are a 'Deity.'" There are pretty much no rules. However, all deities sign a blood oath—what happens in Divinity stays in Divinity . Basically, we collectively run the underworld through our club. Obviously, that means some unsavoury characters may be seen here from time to time... We're strict on the few rules we have."

Theo interjects, "Membership is by invitation. And we only accept the elite. This goes far beyond blood status and money. We're talking connections here," says Theo as he sweeps his hand through his dark locks before explaining further.

"The oath protects the sanctity of the club and also acts as a sort of gag order. Meaning that you could very well see the Minister of Magic partaking in the club's activities, but you're forbidden to discuss it outside these walls.

Blaise strides across the office, halting in a small sitting area. He motions for Draco and Theo to join him.

Draco follows suite and accedes to the comfort of a luxurious deep-green leather chaise. As if disregarding years of friendship, Blaise addresses Draco with a sense of formality reserved for business transactions. His mannerisms are demanding, so Draco gives his undivided attention.

"So basically, you want to divorce Astoria without the chaos, correct?" He tilts his head looking to Draco for confirmation of his assumption.

Draco acknowledges the truth, nodding with an inch of annoyance at how apparent his failing marriage is to everyone. Blaise is unsympathetic; he displays nothing but calm and collected, and it reminds Draco of what it's like to be in the company of wizards he can actually trust.

Blaise summons three glasses full of ice and pours each of them a scotch. Who would have thought the three of them would be sitting down to enjoy a muggle beverage? Times are truly changing.

Blaise sips his drink and continues to converse. "Handle your business with one of our deities. We have access to the best lawyers. I highly recommend Granger."

"Granger!?" repeats Draco at his shocking suggestion.

Theo starts using wild hand movements; it's obvious he's spent far too much time with Blaise. "She's the best as far as we're concerned. Granger solely defends, protects, and represents the club. Her deity clientele list alone is rather extensive already. She works wonders at breaking magical contracts," he explains. "Before we can continue, you need to take the oath."

Draco understands that what they have here is unique, so he accepts their terms.

"Very well then."

"Oh and Draco," interjects Blaise, "Disagreements amongst the Deity do not exist. All outside problems are left at the door. Any altercations with a fellow deity in the club risk torture and loss of admission. As well as several other things—mainly to do with one's status and connections. We run deep here, and we have a lot of power at our disposal."

The statement sparks Draco's interest because he feels Blaise is directing it at him with reason. As Theo shuffles forward to explain, the realisation is apparent.

"We mean this, Draco. If you see Potter, there's no conflict within these walls. Don't put us in the position where we have to intervene with your 'standing.' We're working on a disclaimer for the poly brothel."

Draco's eyebrows are raised in surprised. "Poly Brothel. Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Yes," respond Theo and Blaise in unison.

Draco nods in agreement, secretly shocked at the latest revelation. Moreso, he's impressed by the support of these two, and it leaves so many questions unanswered.

Blaise stands to smooth out his robes with his hands. "So, for obvious legalities, Granger must be present during your initiation. If you wish to converse with her about personal matters, I highly suggest ordering her an apple martini and joining her for a beverage before discussing business. Makes things a bit more pleasant, given your history."

Draco responds a little sharply, but he knows they understand this is a big change. He accepts the advice, and replies, "noted."

Blaise and Theo nod at each other before Blaise announces, "Right. Let's get to proceedings then."

Blaise disapparated and reappears with Hermione linked on his arm seconds later. Draco is pleasantly surprised. She is a smouldering vision in a glittering slinky black dress and strappy stilettos. Beauty has really become her. Her lips look luscious and plump, like a delectable strawberry, tinted in a seductive shade of red. She looks a little nervous, biting her bottom lip at the sight of him. Draco can't help but think of how he would like to nibble on her lips. Her hair is a wave of soft luscious curls swept over her shoulder - exposing her alabaster neck. His mouth waters at the sight of her bare skin.

Surprisingly, she approaches him, snapping out of her brief lack of confidence, greeting him with a warm welcoming smile. "Evening, Malfoy."

It's something she's never given him before. She's soinviting. Hermione dips her head to nod courteously, and he's impressed by her manners.

Hermione speaks with the type of confidence he hasn't seen in a witch and it enlightens him. He already understands why Blaise and Theo have grown to trust her. His mind fills with more questions. Who invited her to Divinity? Has either of them been tempted to mix business with pleasure? Do they attend the poly brothel?

Draco finds himself briefly interested in exploring all of his options with her. She stands in front of him, so he cordially takes her hand kissing the back of it politely, keen to return her kind gesture with the same respect. He's never wanted to be single as much as he does now, but given his impending divorce, he feels no guilt or remorse about momentary fantasies with her.

Draco finds Hermione's presence commanding as she summons an ancient looking scroll out of thin air with a click of her fingers. Her hips sway as she walks over to a peculiar painting on the wall. Opening the portrait, she reveals a hidden box in the wall and retrieves from it a velvet case containing a strange looking quill.

Hermione motions him to Theo's desk, and Draco moves to sit before her in compliance, captivated by her in every sense. She walks out from behind the desk, signalling something to Blaise and Theo, causing them to leave. Draco refuses to let on that he's curious and somewhat relaxed in her presence.

Hermione stands behind Draco, causing a jolt of nerves to course through his body as his heart rate increases ten-fold. He harshly exhales as she places her hand on top of his shoulder. Her actions cause him to stiffen at her unsuspecting touch. He doesn't know what to expect from here as her hand sweeps from his shoulder to his arm while her delicate fingers brush down to his hand. She grasps the top of if it. With unparalleled ease, she peels his hand away from the arm of the chair.

Her intense gaze pierces him, and for a minute Draco is frozen by her influence. Not wanting the moment to end, but too proud to implicate otherwise, he stays still, waiting for her next move. She holds the strange quill at his pointed digit, and he notices it's inscribed with ancient runes...the end of the quill is sharp. Without warning, Hermione penetrates his skin with the pointed blade, and it's apparent the quill is using Draco's blood as its source of an inkwell. Once she removes the quill, she guides his finger to the enchanted scroll and smears his bloody fingerprint on it. Hermione hands him the quill and urges Draco to sign it.

Draco steadily plants his finger on the scroll, and it leaves him feeling as though he is signing his life away - but nothing can be worse than his marriage to Astoria, so he puts his faith in the club. Puts his trust in Hermione.

Her demeanour has a calming effect on his nerves. He doesn't realised the initiation is over until she swivels his chair around and he finds himself almost nose-to-nose with her. In most cases he would feel uncomfortable, but in this instance, he doesn't. His nerves try to get the better of him, but he ignores the urge to gulp.

Hermione smiles, and Draco feels an unwarranted flutter in his chest. Suddenly, this feeling is a bit more bearable, so he smiles back at her - not a smirk, not a sneer, but a genuine smile, and she radiates something that just pulls him in.

She speaks clear as ever, and what she says astounds him. "So, Malfoy. I believe you have a predicament regarding the impending divorce of your wife."

Draco can't find the words, so he merely nods - a positive response to the obvious.

For a time, Draco hears nothing, but he see's seduction oozing from her lips as she says innocently, "I can take care of that for you."

The way her lips move to form each word beckons him. The delicate swipe of her tongue is unnerving and threatens to challenge him in ways he's never known possible. He didn't know he needed her until now. He imagines her unexpectedly taking his bloody finger, edging it toward her mouth.

Draco's face is flushed as he feels a raging pulse in his cock at the thought.

Hermione licks her lips nervously as they remain silent.

Draco's daydream continues...

Hermione slips his finger into her mouth—her tongue swirling around it. The inside of her cheeks enveloping his finger.

Draco exhales a long breath. Fuck, Granger, that'd be so fucking hot.

He is completely caught in up in the pleasantries of his thoughts. She was never one for sly innuendos, and he feels himself wanting to lose control, all because of some fucking fantasy. He envisions how dirty she'd look sucking his finger and chuckles aloud in response. Keep doing that, Granger, and you'll have something else thrust into your mouth. I don't think that's the kind of business we came to discuss, he says to himself silently.

Hermione tilts her head questionly.

"Private joke," says Draco with a smirk.

"Let me fix that for you," suggests Hermione, looking at his bleeding finger.

Draco quirks his brow at the offer, agreeing to let her fix it, though he wishes she was doing something else. He focuses on her lips as she repairs his finger and escapes to his fantasy once more.

He imagines the hollow of her cheeks as she pulls his finger from her mouth. Her wet lips smack against his finger in doing so. She leans over, clears her throat and says, "I handle all of my business with the best intentions—to the best of my ability. I know you do, Granger.

Draco's lips curl into a wicked smile. His stomach is in knots but his head feels fuzzy. He could swear what she said was real. She just sang, and it was music to his ears. Feeling a little daring, Draco pulls her onto his lap and she straddles him willingly. He allows his hand to grip her neck, holding her in place while his lips brush her earlobes; hovering for a moment, Draco allows his breath to echo in her ears. And he feels a magnetic pull to her it's unapologetically—overwhelming.

Before he gets a chance to act, she whips her arm around, swiping his grip away from her neck. Hermione pins Draco with her body, so he indulges her. This is new territory for the both of them, but Draco cannot deny he's more than mildly enjoying it. He feels her lips graze his cheek. and a rush of air brushes his face as she whispers, "We own you now, Malfoy."

Draco feels her breath on his face and he forces his eyes open.

"Draco, are you okay?" she enquires.

"What?" he asks, feeling a little discombobulated.

"Umm, you smiled all of sudden and then fainted. It was only a little bit of blood," she chuckles.

Draco attempts to get up, but she quickly pushes him down.

"Oh, no you don't. Let me help you," orders Hermione.

Draco feels confused and light headed. What the Hell just happened in my head? From that moment on, Draco isn't sure exactly what he's gotten into. And if it has anything to do with Hermione, he sure as Hell is going to have fun finding out.