The Second Wizarding War of Britain had ended just over 7 years ago. It opened the door to a new, more modern era for the wizarding world. Sure, there was still deep prejudice. Old fears were hard to overcome. There would always be whispers of darkness, of old hatred, of rebellion against the new blood flooding their world. But too much blood had been spilled on both sides to forget the painful lesson that was taught. They didn't have to love it, but a new era of tolerance was here and was not going away.

For the kids who fought in the Battle of Hogwarts, that lesson sunk in deep and rather quickly. The Light won and shone into the darkness, revealing that the bigotry and hatred was ugly and baseless. One Muggle born witch shone brighter than the rest, showing them that magic didn't need a genealogy to be exceptional. And sure, there were still grudges and bickering, but the Dark kids and the Light kids learned tolerance and respect. And soon they weren't kids, but adults, and life continued on, pulling them all together.

And so on a hot summer night, 7 years later, the newest Wizarding nightclub, Incendio, just off Diagon Alley, was pulsing and moving to the music of both Muggle and Wizarding artists. Lights flashed and drinks flowed, while bodies moved. The VIP section was full tonight, the Hogwarts class of '98 filling it. Tables and couches were filled with smiling, laughing young adults, and when the tables filled, chairs were conjured for more seating. When those filled, the laps of those oh so gallant young men were quickly filled with the giggling bodies of the oh so grateful women. Harry Potter currently had a lap full of giggling Ginny Weasley, both flushed from alcohol and dancing. His hand resting familiar on her hip, the couple grinned at each other between songs.

"Merlin, look at this place!" shouted Harry over the noise. "I think they are going to test the limits of the expansion charms on the dance floor!" And it was true. Everyone who was of age was there that night (and a few well-placed galleons allowed some younger in as well) Ron Weasley smirked as he slid a hand up the side of Pansy Parkinson on his own lap, and jutted his chin to the elevated stage on the dance floor.

"Look at Hermione! I don't think she's left the floor once! I need to get out of the office more and go jogging or something, because I can't keep up with her! She's mental." The eyes of the VIP tables were all back on the brunette dancing nearby, her wild hair swollen by humidity in the air, a sheen of sweat covering her skin, arms wrapped around every dance partner who came nearby. Her wild grin, infectious, as she closed her eyes and felt the music move her. Her day job in the Ministry was a challenge, championing the rights of the down trodden and voiceless. The stress was high and she expected great things to happen. Long hours, hard work and her winsome smile did carry her along the corporate ladder, but when it was time to cut loose, no one could keep up with the Golden Girl. Dressed in a skin tight, zebra print dress, Hermione looked nothing like the staid Ministry worker they generally saw each day. She worked hard, but oh, did she play hard. The beat of the music fueled her, the lyrics sung loudly, her soul rejuvenated by the joy of being free.

The empty chair next to Ron was filled suddenly by more sweaty bodies. Blaise Zabini reached for a drink on the table, swallowing it in one gulp, wiping his brow with the ice filled glass.

"I give up," he declared, "I am too old to keep up with that girl!" Laughter spilled at his declaration, as Blaise's endurance was the stuff of Hogwarts legend. "We have been dancing with her for 3 straight hours and my feet hurt. I need a break … someone else tag in." Daphne Greengrass and Luna Lovegood both walked off the floor together, fingers entwined, and then perched one on each of Blaise's thighs. He snuggled them close, whispering in their ears, as they giggled together. Everyone at the table laughed, rolled their eyes, and looked away. Those three were impossible together.

The fourth couple at the table was Draco Malfoy and his newest girl of the month, Astoria Greengrass. She sat on his lap all night, giggling and simpering in his ear, running her hands up his chest and pouting her (magically enhanced?!) lips at him. He sat with one arm around her waist, groping her ass occasionally, the other hand filled with a tumbler of firewhiskey. Draco was one of the Dark side kids who surprised them all, returning to Hogwarts for the infamous 8th year, being the first to begin making amends and apologies to those he'd done wrong. Tired of hate and tired of lies and the masks of Slytherin mind games, he struck up an unlikely friendship with Harry Potter, apologizing for the taunts and the duels, offering his hand without pretense. Harry, equally tired of fighting for his life and the wizarding world, shook his hand and accepted. When they both were accepted into Auror academy the same year, the two groups had even more opportunity to blend, and the friendships and couples were formed.

"Draaaaco," whined Astoria, in what she supposed was an enticing tone, "I want to go dancing! I bought this dress just for tonight and you proooomised me you'd dance. Pleeeeease, Drakey, pleeease?" His eyes rolled off the dance floor and to her face, sighing as he accepted his duty.

"One dance, Astoria. You know I don't like getting bumped around by all those sweaty people." Because, yes, while blood hatred was a thing of the past, the aristocratic snobbery could not easily be forgotten, and his sneer was often reflex, not vitriol. The younger girl squealed shrilly, bringing a wince to the faces around the table, and Ginny Weasley's eye roll could almost be heard over the thump of the music.

"Oh, Drakey, you should take 'Stori up by Hermione. I'm sure she'd love the chance to dance where everyone can see that beautiful pink dress she bought" Ginny Weasley was another unexpected friend of Draco … her sassy attitude and razor sharp wit amused him, and her ability to throw insults veiled as complements was the envy of the Slytherin girls. Her eyes wide with malicious glee, she smiled at the young girl bouncing in her expensive heels and tight dress, the white blonde man frowning beside her.

"Oh, yay! Thanks, Jenny, that's such a fun idea." Astoria bubbled over in excitement, missing the smirks on the faces around her as she called Ginny the wrong name, and the ice the filled the red heads eyes. She grabbed Draco by the hand and dragged him reluctantly to the floor.

"I cannot wait for her to be gone from our group," muttered Ginny. Flashing an apology to Daphne, "Sorry, but JENNY? Nuh uh … Draco can do much better. A flobberworm has more personality than her." Laughter filled the table, drinks were refilled, and eyes once again roamed the dancefloor.

As suggested, Astoria pulled Draco right beside Hermione, making sure the spot lights were putting her in a favorable light, that her best assets were on display and she immediately drew attention. Keeping a healthy distance between him and the vapid girl in front of him, Draco moved to the beat of the band, closing his eyes against the stares of those watching. Sure, he was a Malfoy – obviously he was the best at everything – but he was reluctant to admit that losing control on the dance floor was not his strong suit. Still, he was a Malfoy. He could do this. As the music changed to a Muggle song that was popular that summer in both British worlds, his eyes opened to see Hermione Granger staring at him as she danced.

The sultry sounds of the Pussycat Dolls were floating over their sweaty bodies, the tempo designed to bring heat. Her eyes locked with his and she smirked, licking her lips before pouting a kiss his way. He barely acknowledged Astoria draping herself over him, grinding into him to the beat of the band, and he gulped hard at the look in Hermione's eyes.

"I know you like me (I know you like me).
I know you do (I know you do) …"

He couldn't hear her voice, but he could see her mouth singing the lyrics to him, his eyes growing wider with each line.

"That's why whenever I come around
She's all over you
And I know you want it (I know you want it)
It's easy to see (it's easy to see)
And in the back of your mind I know
You should be on with me"

The chorus of the song grew louder as the crowd around them dipped and danced along with the song, echos of "Don't cha" being yelled and whooped.

Hermione's eyes never left Draco, her body moving like the Burlesque girls she was singing along with. She was fluid in her motions, comfortable with the almost brazen dance moves she was making, her whiskey colored eyes darkening with each line. She moved, unapologetic, letting her body share her secrets with the man she longed to be with. She was strong, she was smart, she knew she was on the fast track to making changes in the wizarding world that would last forever. This was the final step in her plans: Draco Malfoy was hers, he just hadn't received the owl yet. But tonight, oh honey, tonight he would know.

"Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me? (Like me)
Don't cha?"

Draco swallowed hard. He had embraced change after the war. He welcomed peace and the opportunity to be someone better. He had seen the effects of blind hatred, and how it did nothing but bring harm to everyone around him. Never again, he swore. Never again would he let someone else do his thinking. So he made new friendships, he cut ties, he did the hard work to prove his worth. But he knew that the one thing he wanted, the one girl he admired, would never see him as good enough. Better, but never enough.

Until her eyes locked with his and her lips sang hope into his heart.

Don't cha wish? Obviously he wished. Every flavor of the month was a distraction. Someone to spend the time with, to distract him, to help him forget. But there was never enough, and the giggles and groping got tired really fast, and the longing for deeper and so much more grew. Don't cha wish? Oh, if only she knew.

But maybe she did. Maybe she could see past the façade of the playboy image and she could see that he wanted more. But was she offering? Those luscious hips certainly suggested she was offering, but his alcohol and lust filled mind made it hard to be sure.

The song ended far too quickly. Despite standing still the entirety of the song, Draco's heart was racing. His mouth opened and closed, his arms pushing Astoria off him, frozen and unsure what to do next. Hermione stood still, took a deep breath and turned to walk off the stage. She looked over her shoulder, quirked an eyebrow at him and said, "I need a drink … want one?" before sashaying to the exit off the side of the room. He didn't think twice, but moved to follow her, ignoring the protests of Astoria.

In the VIP section, groans and cheers rang out, as galleons were slapped into waiting hands, and the group of friends exchanged winnings. Ron grumbled as he handed money to his sister, unbelieving he had lost the bet. "How could you have possibly guessed that Hermione would leave with him of all people?! Malfoy?" Ginny's smirk grew into a full smile. "Oh, Ron, you clueless, oblivious man. You have so much to learn." Laughter and dancing and drinks carried the group through the night, while elsewhere in the city, dancing and laughter and hot mouths fueled the newest couple. Hermione smiled to herself as she woke in the tangled embrace of Draco the next morning, congratulating herself on another plan carried off brilliantly. She'd have to thank her dance teacher for helping her master that burlesque routine.