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A Dream Of Reality	By : Daniexpress Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1369 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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She sauntered past the doorman and into the darkened club. The first room, housing the dance floor and was was crowded with men and women, surveying each other for possibilities. They came dressed in costume, or some would say, finally out of costume. Their clothes reflected their fantasies. Over here, a slinky cat woman, over there, a man in little more than a leather halter and collar. A few men dressed as women, a few women dressed as men.

Her clothes also, advertised her desires. From the jacket and stripes over the crisp white shirt, to the pleated skirt and knee socks, she looked the picture of schoolgirl innocence. Only the expression in her haunted eyes betrayed the facade.

She made her way around the dance floor, eyeing the other patrons. A grandfatherly looking man in a pair of leather pants tried to meet her eye, but she successfully avoided him. No, he simply would not do. Nor could she entertain the statuesque woman in the severe corsette. She looked away in the universal language of silent rejection.

Finally, she saw him. Tall and lean, he was dressed as a vampire. His long dark hair was tied behind his neck and he seemed to enjoy the dramatic flare of his cape as he danced with a petite blonde in a nurse's uniform.

Undaunted by her competition, she met his gaze and held it. When he smiled at her, she noticed the fake fangs capped on his eye teeth. She also noticed his steel gray eyes. She sighed, considering moving on, but there was really no one else tonight who could come closer to fulfilling her need.

As she neared, he turned from the blonde. Without a word, she pressed her body against his and joined his swaying movements. She could feel the promise of his erection pressed against her hip as they danced. From his pocket, he pulled a flask. The club had no license to serve spirits, but patrons were free to provide their own. She parted her lips as he brought the bottle to her mouth, and tasted the sweet, mulled wine. He tilted the bottle high, faster than she could swallow. As the cool red liquid trailed from her mouth, down her chin and neck, he traced his sharp tongue across the trickling lines.

Bringing his mouth from her neck to her ear, he whispered heavily, ‘Your classroom or my dungeon?’

‘Either.’

‘Both.’ Was his decision. It sounded like a delicious threat.

He walked behind her with his hand on the back of her neck, guiding her. She needed no actual direction though. She knew the rooms well in this converted motel. In the main building was the dance floor and bar they’d just left. A few doors down the hall contained the fantasy rooms, each designed for a particular fetish. There was a doctor’s office, a gym and a jungle room. There was a nursery for the nannies and a barn, complete with stall and hay on the floor for the ponyboys and girls. And of course, there were the ever popular classroom and dungeon.

Patrons with less "specialized" tastes, could rent one of the bedrooms surrounding the pool, for the hour or for the night. Exhibitionists would leave the curtains open for the voyeurs and friendly couples interested in an orgy would leave the doors open for... well, everybody.

The atmosphere was one of consensual play and respect was paid to those who did not wish to participate. After all, there was always someone who would willingly submit to whatever sinful or pleasurable torture a person wanted to inflict. And with commonly known code words, to communicate a sincere desire to desist, an eager ’victim’ could even pretend to be thoroughly unwilling.

It was all supposed to be safe. Safe play, with safe sex, in a safe atmosphere. But it was only as safe as any other addiction. And she had become a full fledged, fantasy junkie.

She was an intelligent woman, and knew she was taking chances. Coming to the club regularly, meeting up with strangers and offering her body for their experimentation was a dangerous game. But she would risk many things for her fantasy lover.

When she wasn’t at the club, she still watched for him. Wherever she was, at work, in the mall, or on the city streets, her eyes constantly scanned the crowd for those serious, dark eyes, sinister expression, and the black hair Always searching for the raw material she needed to make her monster live.

Sometimes, to enhance the fantasy, she swallowed a few little pills, and she would forget that she was a daydreaming fool, courtiing a man who didn’t really exist.

One day, she supposed, she would meet a real monster, the kind they don’t write about in fairy stories. The kind of monster they write about on the front page of the paper alongside a color photo of the victim. That would be the end of her search. For now though, she swallowed another pill and allowed a stranger with a vampire fetish to fondle her as he led her to a faux schoolroom.

She entered first, sliding into a seat in the front row. It was good to sit. She was feeling a bit wobbly. As she waited for class to begin, she noted, with curiosity, the cauldron on the desk before her. With a confused smile, she looked up. It seemed the club had combined the dungeons and the classroom. What a nice touch, she thought. A small round window let light stream through and sparkle on a collection of bottles shelved on the wall. She was dazzled by the different colors, shapes and sizes, and she thought muzzily that she must have been waiting a very long time indeed, if the sun was up already.

She was torn from her thoughts as a sudden rush of air caressed her shoulder. Class was to begin and he’d just swooped past in his long dark cape, no cloak. She forced her eyes to focus. It was a robe. She stared momentarily at the long elegant fingers as he folded his arms across his chest, pulling the robe around himself. Her eyes traveled up his long frame to his pale face and stern expression. She gasped.

Gone were the blue eyes and the fake teeth. Instead, she stared into the perfect, obsidian eyes, currently glaring as he leaned against his large desk. ’You’re late.’

She opened her mouth to reply but could think of no excuse. ’I’m sorry, Professor.’

He came to her in one long stride. Placing his hands on either side of the desk, he leaned over her so closely, he need only whisper. ’What could possibly have kept you from my class for so long?’

Try as she might, she couldn’t remember why she was late. He seemed to have an idea though. Wrapping his long fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back and hissed. ’It seems you were too busy fucking all those men to make it to my class. Tell me Miss Granger, how many were there?’

Here eyes widened. How did her know her name? She hadn’t said a word. She never told anyone her name.

He pulled her out of the seat by her hair. ’I asked you how many!’

’I don’t know!’ She cried, her hands on his, trying to stop him from ripping her hair out entirely. She stumbled to her knees but still, he held her head, causing to stretch her neck.

Slowly, his grip loosened, though he didn’t relinquish her hair. She realized, as she stared, eyes level with his flat stomach, that he was breathing heavily. What’s more, she saw he was large and hard beneath his trousers.

’Did you ever find what you were looking for, Hermione?’ His voice was calm, almost pitying. When she only looked up to him in response, he lowered himself to his knees before her. His hands cupped her face.

She felt his body, warm and trembling, only inches from her. His face so close, she could inhale his breath. His eyes, a scant two inches above hers, looked down with lowered lids.

’Did those men give you what you need?’ He asked through lips that brushed hers.

’No. Never.’ She whispered, as he claimed her mouth.

He pulled her to him firmly with one arm as his other hand moved across her body, caressing her breasts, stroking her thigh, and finally, easing beneath her skirt to find the divot in her damp panties. He kissed her neck and face all the while. All she could do was cling tightly to his robes and surrender herself to him at last.

She buried her face against his neck and sobbed as his fingers slipped beneath her panties. He licked the salty tears from her eyes as he touched her deeply and intimately. He strummed and probed, manipulating her body to its most electric passion, even as he ignored his own aching excitement. When she came, the sensation exploded in her head and clenched her heart, as she contracted around his fingers.

‘Those men could never be what you needed.’ He told her between kisses and licks. ’They were never me. Only I can fill your mind... and control your heart.... and possess your soul.’

Sitting back, he pulled her onto his lap and cradled her as she recovered from her emotional orgasm. Finally, after what seemed a blessed eternity of soft words and gentle touches, it was time to go.

’Are you ready?’ He asked lovingly.

’What for?’

’To return.’

She shook her head furiously clinging to him childishly. ’I don’t want to go back. I can't live without you again.’ Her words were halted by his smile. It wasn’t malicious, as she first thought. When she saw his face, she knew it was a grin of amused affection.

’No, not back there... back to Hogwarts.’ He didn’t wait for an answer. Standing, he pulled her to her feet. Escorting her from the classroom, he reassured her that all the rest had been nothing but a dream.

*****

The club shut down six weeks later. The pills in her apartment satisfied the police that the overdose was self induced. No one had been charged with a crime, but places like that don’t thrive on publicity and the newspapers had been giving it plenty.

There was no family to mourn her at the funeral. A number of men, of a certain physical type, felt an uncomfortable twinge when they saw her picture on the front page and learned her name for the first time, but none of them actually mourned her.

In the end, the person most affected by her death was the stranger who followed her into a faux classroom and watched as she sat at a desk and placed her head on folded arms. He thought she’d fallen asleep, with her closed eyes and the slight smile on her lips.

It was quite a surprise for him when he tried to kiss her awake.
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A Dream Of Reality