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My Little Wicked Witch	By : fuzzydraco Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 22567 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry Potter world. But I don't. I dont make mullah off of this story. This is just my imagination running wild using her characters. Oh - the songs aren't mine either! :) PLEASE REVIEW.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
A/N – No dancing or sexiness in this one. I know! I know! But you gotta get some background info first. I promise there will be more dances in future chapters! Soon, very soon. I have chapter 4 completed, just gotta have it beta’d. Thank you for reviewing and happy reading!

P.S. – I own Mark and this plot. All the rest is Rowling’s! Lucky her. Not so lucky me.

CHAPTER 3

After shaking his head and awakening from his daze, he called his waitress over.

“The ticket and the manager.”

She smiled knowingly at his response. All first-timers wanted to meet her. They were all turned down though. She knew his request was futile but still rang him up and gave the ticket to Mark, the owner of the club, giving him an its-one-of-those-guys-again looks.

Mark walked towards the table Angela had indicated. The back of the man’s head looked familiar. Such light blond hair. When he arrived at the designated table the gentleman was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t see Mark arrive. Mark cleared his throat, “How can I help you sir?” and the second the man turned around, Mark recognized him.

“I want to meet your ‘Little Wicked Witch’. ” He smirked at the manager.

At his request the manager chuckled and shook his head. He placed the ticket on the table. “You are not the first nor will you be the last to make that request. I cannot give you access to her. She works here because I have given her my word that no man will be allowed access to the back area to bother her. You are more than welcome to give her a token of affection or perhaps a note. The regulars normally do. Some end up writing long winded letters devoting themselves to her, but that’s another story. Anyways, I know you won’t do that. ”

“Why would you say that?” Draco asked, knowing full well that the manager was correct in his assumption.

Mark didn’t answer his question but continued, “Those are you only options, Mr. Malloy.”

At the sound of his surname, Draco quickly stood and looked at the man with curiosity.

“Ah, you don’t recognize me. The years have not been as kind to me but they have aged you into a strong young man. I use to have more hair and had more muscle than fat in my stomach then. ” Mark continued, “I have not seen you here in over five years. I could never forget that hair and those eyes. You always drank, let me see – what was it – scotch, I believe. That’s right! Neat. You came here looking for respite from your home and father. How is your father by the way? Have things improved or am I holding my breath for that one. ”

The hair on the back of his neck rose as though he was being electrocuted when he heard his father’s name. “Don’t speak of him. He is NOT my father!” he spit back at the gentleman who apparently remembered him but he couldn’t remember. “He was a fucking bastard! He died and left me to take care of all his bloody shite. Only reason I came back was for my mother. She was the only one that was worth a damn. I decided to come here to get away from the manor and all the damn memories. Not to be reminded of them. ”

Without batting an eye at Draco’s outburst Mark replied, “Then I shall mention no more of this person to you. Is there anything else you need, I have other customers waiting. ”

“You’re the guy who introduced her!” realization dawned on his face.

“Yes, I am. I still can’t get you back there. For old times sake I’ll put your first drink on the house.” Mark smiled at Draco.

Draco shook his head. He recognized his face but couldn’t place how he had met this man previously. Obviously it was here at this club but he couldn’t wrap his mind around it at the moment. He had more pressing matters to deal with.

Draco resigned to the idea of not being able to meet her just yet. He thought about it for a second knowing that the manager was waiting on his answer. The easiest way to get her attention is going to be for me to send her a note announcing that a wizard had been watching. He didn’t want to scare her off but he couldn’t keep himself from picking on the woman. He was a Malfoy of course.

“I think I will write her a quick note. Perhaps just tell her that the performance was stunning. Yes, I think I will do that …. ” He looked at the manager silently asking for a name.

“Mark” the manager finished for him. “Then I will have Angela bring you pen and paper. You can give the note to her and she will deliver it to me,” he explained pointing to himself. “I must go see to the others. I hope to see you again,” he said smiling, knowing he would.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

She appeared in her dressing room and quickly grabbed a tee shirt she had laid on her vanity chair and put it on. “Scourify” she pointed to herself and all the sweat washed away along with the cigar and beer stench. She took off her mask and placed it in her dressing room closet with all her other dancing outfits. “Reparo” she muttered under her breath pointing her wand to the corset lying on the floor.

Her mind wandered back to the performance she had just given and she smiled at herself. She couldn’t believe that she, Hermione, the smarted witch from Hogwarts, was dancing at a gentleman’s club.

I hope you aren’t mad at me, Mum and Dad. But after you guys left, I had no choice. I couldn’t ask Ron or Harry for help. Harry, Ron, and the rest of Weasley’s would do whatever they could to assist her but their money situation was already strained as it was. They have plenty on their plates. The money that was left from the life insurance wasn’t meant to last me my entire life. It has paid for my schooling but it is dwindling down. I had to make a choice. I would not make myself work full time and take a full load. Oh I know I could do it but I still remember third year at Hogwarts. Hermione closed her eyes at the memory. On top of that even a regular job wouldn’t have paid enough to a university student to allow for the flat, bills, and food. So I did the only thing that I knew to do. I consulted my books and did some research. Being a dancer allows me work minimally and be able to bring in more money in one month than I would in three. I found a good place here with Mark. Hermione interjected as an afterthought.

Hermione always caught herself thinking of her family and the situation she was in after a performance. Even after eleven months dancing she had to reassure herself that she had made the right decision.

She shook her head and broke from her thoughts. She fished out her muggle clothing and changed into jeans and slip-on shoes. She put her bra on under her tee shirt and then packed away her robe into her school sack. Hermione then pulled out one of her school books and waited for Mark to arrive with her payment. Instead of being engulfed into her book like usual her mind wandered back to her first day meeting Mark.

~*~*~*~*~*~*flashback*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been a Thursday. She had just left her 2406 Advanced Arithmancy class and had made up her mind that she was going to dance to make some extra cash. She had walked from gentlemen’s club to gentlemen’s club but she couldn’t bring up the nerve to walk in. Not until she reached Fire and Brimstone. The building didn’t look run down as the others had. It was clean from the outside and didn’t have a group of men dawdling outside its doors. That was probably one of the main reasons why she finally willed herself in.

Hermione steeled herself and walked to the bar. She grabbed the bartender’s attention and asked if they had any open positions. Before the bartender could point her in the right direction she was startled by a man’s voice behind her asking, “How can I help you?”

She looked the man in the eye. He was taller than her but not by much. His hair was graying and he was balding. The way he held himself let it be known that he was in charge but it wasn’t arrogant.

“I am looking for a job. I want to dance. I can’t be full time because I also attend school. I have looked around and this is my best bet to get me through school and into the life I want. ”

She noticed the manager surveying her and she restrained herself from showing any weakness at his gaze. His look softened and he looked her in the eyes. “I’m Mark, the manager. Follow me. ”

Obligingly she followed Mark into a dark corner of the room. When she looked closer she noticed a door knob and realized this was probably where his office was. Hermione wasn’t sure what to do at the moment. She had read about some of the owners of these types of places and not everything she read was nice. She had her wand in hand underneath her hoodie and if he tried anything she would stupefy and erase his memory. She didn’t want to be here doing this, but she had no choice. She had to complete her studies.

“I have given you my name, may I have yours?”

Hermione blushed. “I’m sorry. I seem to have forgotten all my manners. ” She held out her hand, “Pleased to meet you, Mark. I’m Hermione. ”

Mark took her hand and gave it a firm quick shake. “Do you have any experience dancing?”

“No, but…”

“Then I can’t let you on stage. I can offer you a job but you will have to work your way up to the stage by proving to me that you really want to dance and that you can. ”

Hermione was at a loss for words. He is offering me a job. Not exactly what I want but even that should be good money for now. She nodded her head at him in agreement. Even though she was upset she understood why she couldn’t just go straight to the stage. She had never been an outward showy person when it came to her image but she had made her decision. She really didn’t care what people though about her body. She was more worried about what people thought about her mind. She was determined to make this work. Undeterred by the change of events she accepted the position. At least it’s work.

Mark took her around the club and introduced her to the other employees. He informed her that the dancers didn’t arrive until right before it was time for their performance. Some worked everyday, others only once or twice a week as they had other jobs.

Hermione nodded and took it all in. “Well this is it,” she told herself. “I’m here and I accepted the job. Now to work on getting on the stage. ”

~*~*~*~*~*~*End Flashback*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione was so engrossed in her memory that she didn’t hear the knocking at her door. Mark walked into her dressing room and only after he shook her shoulder did she realize where she was.

"Well, Ms. Granger. You have some new admirers. ” Mark held out a small box filled with notes, flowers, and trinkets. Even though she really didn’t care what people thought about her body, it felt good to have men falling over themselves for her. There was a sense of empowerment at having all those men at her mercy. Sometimes the gifts were really nice, too. She took the box from him. “So how was it tonight?” she asked as he placed an engorged envelope in her hand.

“It was wonderful. You were absolutely amazing out there. I wish you could perform every night. ”

At this Hermione shook her head and answered, “You know I only do this for school. Plus, if I performed every day, your customers would get tired of me. ”

“They would never get tired of you, hun. Or your dances! But I wish I could change your mind…” he pouted at her. She laughed and lightly slapped his shoulder. “That may work on your Henry, but not on me. Thank you for bringing this to me. I want to stay and chit-chat a little but I have to go. I need to study for an exam. See you next week, Mark. ” She hugged him as she gathered her thing and followed him out while he blew kisses in her direction.

Hermione smiled to herself. It was no wonder why women loved working here. Mark is a perfect employer. He makes sure all the women are treated with respect and he came up with an ingenious method of collecting the tips for the dancers. There is a small box on each table that allows the customers to slip in the money discretely instead of having to throw it on stage thus making the girls have to pick it up after their performance. The box is attached to a nozzle that sucks the money into a small safe that Mark collects after each performance. He divides the money according to the contract and then gives the money to the performer. This allows the women to not feel degraded from having to pick up the money off the stage in front of all those men. Mark had also found out that men were more generous because they weren’t put in the spotlight by other blokes for giving the dancer too much money or by seeing all their hard earned cash sitting on the dance floor at the dancer’s feet.

She walked out of her dressing room, into the hallway, and towards the back door that exited straight into the main street. Mark had thought of everything. Instead of it opening to a side entrance next to the front door, the girls exited on the opposite side through another building right next to a security office that was open 24/7.

Hermione hailed a cab and had it take her to a late night cafe she liked to frequent. She ordered her drink, stepped into the alleyway next to the cafe and after making sure no one was around, apparated back to her apartment.

She fed Crookshanks upon arriving realizing she had forgotten to do so before heading in for work. He was not happy about being forgotten. Only after hearing his food bowl placed on the floor did he grace Hermione with his presence. “You can’t stay mad at me for long, Crookshanks. ” At this he turned around putting his back to her letting her know that he was still upset. Smiling at her silly cat she started getting ready so she could read in bed until she fell asleep.

On her way from the kitchen to her bedroom she sited the box Mark had given her and decided to sift through the contents. She found a bottle of perfume. The bottle was pretty but when she sniffed it she gagged. Ugh, that smells like something an old woman would wear! She put that to the side to donate. Hmm, maybe I’ll just toss it out. No one should smell like that. She pulled out two small bouquets of flowers and arranged them in a vase and then placed them on the mantel. She found three letters two of which she immediately recognized as being from Blake and John. They wrote her every week and she could distinguish their handwriting now. She tossed those two to the side to look over later. She knew what the letters most likely contained but she couldn’t see throwing away a love note without reading it. The third letter wasn’t addressed to anyone but she knew that Mark wouldn’t have given it to her if it wasn’t meant for her. This must be my new admirer.

She opened the letter and saw small, neat, cursive writing. It wasn’t loopy like hers or hurried and sloppy like most of the letters she received. She read:

Your performance tonight was breathtaking. Never have I been so enthralled with a dancer. You looked amazing. My favorite part was when you apparated off the stage. I do plan on coming in next week and seeing your next performance. Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul you’re performing magic in front of muggles. You can perform all the magic you want as long as I get to watch.

Sincerely,

-Me
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My Little Wicked Witch