Disclaimer: Anything recognizable is not mine.

I'd just like to say that after I post this, I'm going down to my local feed store and buying every critter trap I can find! These darn plot bunnies are everywhere! I've been Imperiused, I know it!!

Don't hate me Delilah! Once again, it was driving me crazy!

A/N: (3-9-2010) Just a little update! This story is now a Featured Story for the month of March over at the Potter Place Archives!! I'm so excited!! Yay!

The Subtle Nature of Sin

Chapter 1: The Diamond Doll

"Sins become more subtle as you grow older: you commit sins of despair rather than lust."
-Piers Paul Read

The tall, dark-haired man thumped the ashes from his cigarette as he walked slowly up the street. His black boots scuffed softly against the pavement. People who passed nearby gave him a wide berth as they took in his scowling countenance and intimidating air.

He wore a long, black, duster jacket over black leather pants and a dark crimson shirt. The first few buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing a light sprinkling of black chest hair. The hair atop his head was also black. It fell about his shoulders and down his back like ribbons of oil. He had a patrician profile and pale, sallow skin. His complexion, mixed with his dark hair and clothes, made him a rather striking figure.

Approaching his destination, he crossed the street quickly, looking up at the gaudy neon sign as he took another long drag from the cigarette. He hadn't been back here in several weeks. Trying to kick the habit, as it was.

Tonight, however, had brought up memories that he did not care to think about. He had tried to push them out of his mind, but they kept creeping around his defenses, harsh and vivid. So he had given into temptation and made his way back to The Diamond Doll. The place would be called seedy at the best of times. It wasn't a pub or even a nightclub. A back alley strip joint that served alcohol would be a more accurate description - one of London's less than savory gentleman's clubs. Then again, he was a less than savory gentleman. Like calls to like and other such rubbish.

He could hear the muffled thump of music as he made his way towards the front entrance, which was manned by two shaven-headed, tattooed brutes. There was a line at the door as men of every description waited to spend their weeks pay on a few glimpses of glittering flesh.

He strode up to the two guards. They simply nodded their recognition and let him pass, much to the disgust of the waiting masses. He ignored their shouts and curses.

As soon as he opened the door he was assaulted by loud music, cigarette smoke, flashing lights, and the smell of stale sweat. Pushing his way through the crowd, he made his way to the bar. He shrugged out of his long leather duster and folded it over the seat next to him. Running a hand through his hair, he pulled his pack of fags from his trouser pocket.

Sitting carefully on the swiveling stool, he ordered a triple shot of whiskey and a beer. He pushed his money across the bar at the scantily clad bartender, who leered openly at him. Licking her lips, she let her fingers trail over his as she took the proffered cash.

He smirked at her, watching her backside sway beneath her micro mini-skirt as she tucked the cash in her cleavage and headed for the next customer.

A little while later, he had finished two fags, downed his shots, and was nursing his beer when he heard someone call, "Tobias!" He swiveled his barstool around and was met with a resounding clap on his shoulder. "Tobias! Where the hell have you been, mate? We've missed you!"

"Missed my money is more like it," the man known as 'Tobias' growled, even though a grin had formed on his face. He clasped hands with the man in front of him. Jack was his name. He was short, balding, and dressed in a horrible orange leisure suit. He was also the owner of The Diamond Doll.

"Say, old man," Jack whispered conspiratorially, "you've not been here in a while, and I've got a new girl - one hot piece of arse - that I know you'd like."

'Tobias' raised a dark eyebrow at the leering man. "Do tell," he said before placing another fag in his mouth and lighting it.

Jack leered even more. "Oh, she's one hot piece! Damn, but does she have the best body. Not a real mouth-runner either, which I know you can appreciate." He thumped Tobias in the ribs with his elbow. "She's our top billing. All the fools outside," he gestured to the front doors and the waiting mob," they're here to see her. Actually," Jack said, glancing at his rather garish wristwatch, "her act is up next." He pointed towards the raised catwalk at the far end of the room. "Come on," Jack grabbed Tobias by the elbow, "let's get you a front row seat before the mob gets here."

He barely had time to grab his things before Jack dragged him through the throng of people. The eager man took Tobias to the edge of the stage, right across from the tall silver pole that jutted from the middle of the platform. He found himself planted in one of the plush chairs set aside for the 'VIP's - the people that spent the most money.

Tobias draped his jacket over the seat next to him and leaned back casually. He heard Jack say in his ear: "I'll have your usual room open after she's done. Head over there and I'll send her in. Trust me… you don't want to miss out." With another rough clap to Tobias' shoulder, Jack disappeared into the crowd, no doubt rounding up other potential money spinners.

He crossed his arms over his chest and took a long pull from his fag. The throng outside had finally been allowed in, and were quickly crowding around the stage, money overflowing in their eager hands. After a moment the lights dimmed, and Tobias could feel a murmur of excitement roll through the waiting crowd.

With a flourish of lights, the music started.

-"Ho oh oh oh oooh oh oh oh oh… Caught in a bad romance…"

The woman appeared through the curtains at the back of the stage. She was wearing a long black cloak and a silver demi-mask. Tobias' heart leapt into his throat as visions of his past came crashing back. He had to shake his head and remember where he was… or perhaps where he wasn't. Quickly, he summoned a waitress and ordered two more triple shots of whiskey. 'That ought to get rid of them,' he thought to himself.

He turned his attention back to the woman. She was walking smoothly to the center of the stage, her long cloak flowing smoothly behind her.

-"Ho oh oh oh oooh oh oh oh oh... Caught in a bad romance…"

Her hands appeared through the split in the front of the cloak. One took hold of the pole while the other undid the clasp at her neck. With a flourish, she spun the cloak away from her. Tobias' mouth dropped open as he watched the woman wrap her body around the pole.

-"Rah rah ah ah ahh, rah ma rah ma ma,

Gaga oh la laa, want your bad romance…"

Her body was covered in glitter; there wasn't a part of her that didn't shimmer.

-"I want your ugly, I want your disease,

I want your everything as long as it's free…"

Tobias tilted his head to the side as the dancer squatted next to the pole, rolling her hips against it as she slowly stood back up. She wore the tiniest pair of panties he had ever seen. They were merely a piece of shear black fabric being held up by two tiny lines of glittering black rhinestones.

She was curvy, there was no doubt about that. That was alright with Tobias; he had always liked his women – what few there had been – with a bit of flesh about them. Her breasts were full, - and bare - which was also a plus. Her hair was dark and fell in rivulets down her back. A pair of black stilettos adorned her small feet, and he thought he could make out the outline of a small tattoo on her right ankle. A serpent?

-"I want your love…

Love, love, love, I want your love…"

She performed another gravity defying move before spinning to her knees on the stage. She rocked her hips back and forth, running her hand down between the vee of her legs. Her lips were parted, but her face was wholly unreadable beneath the silver mask.

-"I want your drama, the touch of your hand,

I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand…"

She spun quickly to her hands and knees, slinging her hair from side to side. She searched the crowd, and after a moment her gaze locked on him. Tobias thought he saw her mouth gape in surprise, but it passed so quickly he must have imagined it. He watched as she crawled slowly across the floor towards him.

-"I want your love…

Love, love, love, I want your love…"

Twisting around to sit on her bum at the edge of the stage, she extended one long leg towards him. The black stiletto came to rest on his chest. He could feel her heel digging into his sternum as his hands moved languidly to caress her calf. There was indeed a serpent tattoo on her inner ankle. The creature was twined around a long staff, looking for all the world like the Staff of Asclepius. Somehow he knew it wasn't. It was something else entirely. He narrowed his eyes at her.

She looked back at him from beneath her mask. It was so dark that he couldn't make out the color of her eyes. Her lips, though, were red and full, the color of fresh blood... or cherries.

-"You know that I want you…

And you know that I need you.

I want it bad,

Your bad romance…"

Ignoring his suspicions, he grinned lecherously as his hand slid up to her inner thigh. To his great surprise, he was met with a powerful static shock. He pulled his hand back, shaking it out as he scowled at the masked dancer. He saw her wag her finger at him – 'No, no…' it seemed to say. Her gaze locked with his again – slightly longer than necessary - before she spun back to the stage.

The rest of her act was just as breathtaking as the beginning. Tobias watched as she swayed and danced around the edge of the stage, letting men stuff pounds into the sparkling straps of her g-string. Occasionally, she would take a larger note from them with her mouth, running her hands suggestively over their chests and faces. He smirked as he watched her twist away from their groping hands. She was wily, this one. She got what she wanted and moved on.

There was one thing he did find odd about her. He had always been adept at reading body language, and he quickly noticed that she never looked any of the men in the eye. What unnerved him was that she had looked right at him. Why was he worth her full attention?

Unfortunately, the music ended before he could come to any kind of conclusion. He watched as she gathered the fallen bills and sauntered back through the curtains, followed by a round of raucous applause.

'This should be interesting,' he thought to himself. He grabbed his coat and headed towards the back of the club, hoping that Jack would be good on his promise.

He pushed the velvet curtains aside and stepped into the relative quietness of the private room. It was furnished with a single couch, an armchair, and table with a gaudy tasseled lamp that emitted a dim red light. 'Fitting,' he thought crudely.

He tossed his duster onto the armchair and pulled another fag from the pocket. He lit it as he sat on the couch, wondering idly when the upholstery had been cleaned last.

He didn't have long to think, because just then his private show walked in. She wasn't wearing the cloak, but she still wore the mask. It shimmered red in the dim light.

"So," she spoke softly, sounding almost disconnected. "I suppose you're Tobias."

"I am." He took another drag, letting his eyes roam over her lithe body.

"Well, 'Tobias,' I'm 'Jane.'" She walked towards him, her hips swaying with each step.

He was drunk, he knew that, but he suddenly had the unsettling feeling that he would do anything she asked of him. She looked at him for a long moment before speaking: "Do you think I'm pretty, Tobias?" she asked innocently, stepping between his splayed knees.

"Yes," he answered quietly, running one hand up the outside of her thigh.

She smiled woodenly and moved to straddle him, pushing him back into the cushions. Reaching out, she took the fag from his fingers and brought it to her own lips. After inhaling deeply, she leaned forward. Her breasts rubbed against his chest as she pressed her lips to his and exhaled the smoke into his mouth. He inhaled, taking a handful of her hair tightly in his fist as he did.

"Mmm," she groaned, rocking her pelvis against his.

His eyes rolled back as he exhaled. It had indeed been too long; he was rock hard already.

'Jane' ground her pelvis against him again. When he groaned, she leaned in and placed slow, open-mouthed kisses along his neck and jaw. Her tongue flicked out as she licked the sweat from his skin. His lips parted as his breath came faster. His hands moved to grip her hips as she continued to grind against him languidly.

He felt her smile against the skin of neck. Her mouth moved up to his ear as one hand found its way to his groin, cupping him firmly. Her voice was low and husky: "Do you like that?"

He nodded.

"For fifty pounds, I can make you scream." She ran her tongue along the edge of his ear.

His hands convulsed around her hips. Twisting one hand into her hair again, he turned his face to hers and kissed her roughly. He didn't really care about how she felt; she was a nobody, a tool sent there to pleasure him. His other hand moved to his belt, making quick work of the buckle and buttons of his leather trousers. He then covered her hand with his own and pressed it harder against himself. She pulled back, grinning lasciviously.

His eyes were hooded with his own need. He countered her offer. "Take off the mask and I'll make it £100."

Her grin widened and she licked her lips. "You drive a hard bargain… but I think I can manage." She stepped back from him and knelt between his legs. Her small hands rubbed circles on the smooth fabric covering his inner thighs. He leaned his head back and allowed her to take over. It was what he was paying for, after all. He felt her breasts rub against his hardness as her hands moved to unbutton his shirt. Her lips were warm and soft against the flesh of his stomach.

Again came the strange compulsion that he would do anything she asked, just to feel her lips and hands on his body…

Any coherent thoughts were swept away as he felt her hand reach into his trousers and close around his length. He raised his head so he could see her as she pulled him free. He panted with need as she started pumping him slowly in her small fist. She looked up at him, and he almost came right then and there as her pink tongue darted out, swiping the small bead of liquid from the tip of his cock.

He was barely able to speak, "The mask…" before she licked at him again.

"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten." She pulled herself up straight and leaned into him. His cock was pressed against the warm skin of her breasts, and then her stomach, as she licked a line up his belly to his neck. She gave him a light nip on his earlobe before pulling back. "You do it," she whispered, and bowed her head so he could reach the white ribbon that held the mask in place.

His eyes clouded with lust, the man known as Tobias reached towards her. He took the edge of her glittering silver mask between the fingers of one hand, while with the other he reached back and pulled the ribbon loose. He then pulled it up and away, careful not to snag it in her long brown hair, and tossed it next to them on the sofa.

When she finally turned her uncovered face up towards him, he instantly knew that his life had just taken a horrible turn for the worse, if that were even possible.

Staring back at him, her eyes clouded with something he couldn't quite place, - not lust… something darker - was a face that he had not seen in ten – perhaps even fifteen - years.

Hermione Granger.

~TBC

A/N: Well? What do you think? Let me know!

The Staff of Asclepius in an ancient symbol of the medical profession: a single serpent wrapped around a wooden staff.