AN. You will be glad to know that I have started to edit this story and remove bits I don't like ect.
“The Golden Dragon, Soho!”
The green flames licked round my ankles and then I was off, living my home and life behind me for a few hours. The life that I no longer wanted, words like depression pop to mind when looking at my life. There was little left of what I had once had, I have moved away but not forwards. Going to Soho and getting plastered was my escape from the week of toil and work I endured while working for the Ministry of Magic. No one knew me in Soho, so I could do what I wanted, even if they did know me they wouldn’t know me only my face.
I had changed so much in the last ten years that I was unrecognisable. The bushy haired, book worm I once was, was long gone. I was a silent and lonely spirit who went with the grind, but that was not why people wouldn’t recognise me. People would not recognise me because I had bleached blonde hair. My reasoning for this change was that they do say blondes have more fun; so far that saying hadn’t come true.
I climbed out of the fire place, I was in the usual restaurant that most Wizard and Witches used when going to Soho. It was small, shabby and had a heavy layer of grease over most of the surfaces. The air was thick with the smell of frying and greasy steam.
I tucked my wand away; it was very unlikely that I would need it now, but better safe than sorry. The fire place was in the farthest corner of the restaurant and was blocked from view by the counter, at which a man in deep purple Wizard robes was ordering some greasy Chinese food. Dusting the last bits of coal dust off of what little clothes I was wearing, I walked round to the front of the restaurant.
“Can I have 301 and 239 thanks,” I smiled half heartedly, I was ordering my usual: Szechwan Noodles and Sweet and Sour Pork.
Better to eat before the crawl begins.
I handed over the gold. The man behind the counter looked me up and down, well what he could see. I wasn’t wearing much; some very short shorts teamed with a low cut strappy top that didn’t leave much to the imagination and a set of black, very high stilettos.
I sat down at one of the greasy tables near the window which was steamed up. I sat for about five minutes watching the world go by through the steam. Then the familiar face of the waitress appeared in front of me.
“Here you go Hermione, how’s things?” she asked in a bubbly manner.
“Good thanks, going out and getting on with life, you know...” I said trying not to sound to glum,
“Yeah, well I can’t stay Dad’s getting a tad angry with the cooker, says it won’t work and that he will destroy it if it doesn’t work in half an hour.” She smiled at me and patted me on the shoulder,
“I can have a look if you want.” I asked looking for something to do,
“Na...I know what to do; I’ll leave you with your food.” She smiled and walked off into the kitchen.
The food was good, despite appearances. I ate it slowly, chewing every mouthful carefully and letting my mind wander off.
Life was funny; I had gone from being so high in the world to this, out of my own choice really. I didn’t like the media frenzy that followed the battle; I hid and changed, cutting all cords with the outside world (except for work, which kept me from going crazy really) and then I was just there in the background.
I finished the greasy concoction and left the steamy restaurant.
The night air was crisp, but it had the faint taste of car fumes and deep fat fryers.
My heals made click clack noises as I walked down the cobbled streets, no one stopped and stared, that was just what I wanted; the freedom to be who I wanted to be. I walked round the corner to my usual haunt; a night club which was in the basement of a seedy Chinese massage parlour that would give you more than a massage if you asked. It was small and this was good for me as I could hide and get drunk then join in the jumping and dancing to the numbing drone of the music.
I sidled down the steps tottering slightly; the super-heals were a new addition to the getup and I wasn’t quite sure about them.
It was a muggle night club, so I pulled up my purse full of Sterling and tucked my wand round the back of my shorts; I had a special little loop to put the handle in so that it wouldn’t fall out, very clever if I don’t say so myself.
I sidled over to the bar and ordered my first drink of the night, five shots. The usual pattern of alcohol consumption I ran through tonight went; something and Vodka, something and Rum, something and Tequila, then by this point my tongue had lost all of its feeling so I would go for one or two pints of Cider, then some more shots and whatever takes my fancy after that. Normally by that time I am slightly disorientated so I head for the dance floor and fall all over the place.
I was jumping up and down to the beat, leaving all cares behind when I accidentally stumbled back in my Super-heals into someone who was probably just as drunk as I was, and they caught me.
“Careful now!” it was a man, and his voice was familiar but I couldn’t place it. When I turned round I didn’t recognise him, but in my state I wouldn’t have know who my own mother was.
“Do you wanna dance?” I slurred out, trying to flirt. It worked none the less. Also you can’t really call jumping up and down dancing.
From what I could make out he was tall, possibly blond and had broad shoulders. He also smelt good.
The night was getting on and I needed more drink. I slowly made my way over to the bar to down some more shots. The night was going well, a man pulled and I was still able to walk.
I was leaning on the bar when he sidled up to me.
“Hi, do you want to come back to mine?” It was him, the guy I had somehow pulled. I was drunk, so was he. Going back to a stranger’s house was really stupid, I know that, but that thought process was dampened by the alcohol.
We stumbled out of the night club, I was giggling like a little girl, happy for the first time in a long time. I leant against the wall opposite the front door to catch my breath. In a flash he was in front of me pushing his face to mine.
I shivered; it had been a long time since anyone had given me this type of attention.
There was a funny sensation as we apparated, I didn’t take notice it was second nature to me.
We were inside a large room, there was large bed draped in silvers and greens. It looked so comfortable; I wanted to lie down on it, so I did.
I flopped in the middle of the luxurious silks, and sighed, it was so nice.
He climbed on the bed, on his hands and knees, moving from the foot of the bed towards me. His hair was messed up, like he had run his hands through it, he had also slipped off his shirt to expose his toned body. He was now on top of me; my heart was thumping so hard I was surprised that he couldn’t hear it.
I just led there and let him undress me; taking off my shorts was really funny as it tickled. When I was down to my underwear he stopped to survey the scene, he groaned and smirked. I couldn’t control myself I caught him by his neck and pulled him down onto me.
People always said I was a screamer, but I would describe it more as a groaner. I wriggled down my pants. I was all his, being in a drunken state I knew nothing of what I was doing but it felt right.
I moaned, pleasure beyond all that I had expected, better than the ones I had had before in this state.