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Mad Hatter

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The lights shone brighter than the sun as Hermione spun across the floor, flashing intermittently with the music, simultaneously blinding her and urging her on. 

She was dripping with sweat, but that didn't matter, she had to keep moving. Her body swayed erotically to the music, pulsing with each and every thrum of the bass.  She felt someone's hands grip her waist and instinctively leaned back, grinding against the unknown body, letting the music guide her as mysterious hands roamed her body. 
When she felt the man's lips on her neck, she almost pulled away, almost allowed the rational part of her mind to take over. But it had been a long time since she had been rational, and before the needling voice in the back of her mind could get too loud, there was a shot glass in her hand and firewhiskey burning in her throat.

The song changed, heavy bass replaced by a slow, sensual beat that had Hermione turning slowly to face her dance partner, twining her leg around his.  His hands continued to wander, from her waist to her hips, down to her ass.  He ran a single finger up her thigh, hooking the hem of her dress and slowly dragging it along with him.

“How about another drink?” He suggested, his breath hot against her ear. He pulled her ear lobe into his mouth and nipped her, his tongue immediately soothing the bite and Hermione shivered, hiking her leg up so that it was around his hip.

“I don't think that will be necessary.” She hummed, tangling her fingers in his hair and forcing his head down to hers, their lips crashing together as the song came to a crescendo.

Locked in the dirty club bathroom, ignoring the people pounding on the door, Hermione gripped the top of the stall with one hand while the other stayed locked around the stranger's neck, anchoring herself as he pounded into her.

She threw her head back and closed her eyes, focusing on nothing but the sensations pulsing through her, the want, the need, the emptiness, the pleasure. 

Moans and pants echoed against the concrete walls as they both worked towards completion, pushing against each other, trying to find that perfect angle, that perfect spot that made Hermione's toes curl and her spine fizzle.

She could feel it building, pulsing and ebbing through her, almost there, almost-

She reached one hand between them, determined to bring herself over the precipice.

She could hear her partner panting, speaking into her ear, but she wasn't listening.  It didn't matter what he had to say, she didn't need him to speak, she just needed him to fuck.  She needed him to keep it up just a little longer.  She was so close.  Her release was right there, she could practically taste it...

And then it was over, no waves, no crashing, no pleasure- just emptiness.

“Did you...?” Her partner panted, obviously fully sated.

“Mmhm,” Hermione lied. “Yeah, that was great.”

She unhooked her legs from his waist and disentangled herself, pulling her dress back into place and running a hand through her hair.

“So, we should do this again.”

“I don't think so.” Hermione shook her head, and without waiting for a response turned and unlocked the door, letting in a wave of angry women and slipping back into the club.

It was time for another drink. Another dance. Another faceless stranger whose name she would never get.  If she was lucky, she might even find something else to take the edge off, something to make her forget who she was.  And in the morning, if she was very lucky, she wouldn’t remember any of it.