Harry was feeling the stirrings of exhaustion, but it wasn't a physical one. It would have been understanding considering the great number of physical activities that he had experienced during the day, but it wasn't his muscles that shouted for a reprieve.
It was his mind, suffering under the weight of all the decisions after Dumbledore's demise. He had to take a lot of decisions after the suddenness of the event - no matter how much Harry preferred the death of the puppet master with control-obsession, yet obsessively avoided taking any kind of action, it didn't change the fact that it was exhausting at the short term.
His day had been full of decisions - most delivered through mental tricks, the others, like the little portion he had talked with Amelia, had been arranged more directly.
And, making such critical decisions was exhausting, especially with the potential great consequences. Unfortunately, a lot more decisions awaited him once he returned to the Grimmauld Place was even worse.
So, he decided to delay his return even more, and changed his direction toward muggle London. To a particular establishment that would be still open at this late hour.
Admittedly, almost exclusively open at this late hour.
Yet, before he used his magic for transportation, he paused to send a message to a certain person, as he remembered a promise to do so.
Then, he waved his hand and apparated into muggle London, walking through the crowded streets, enjoying the movement of the great mass of people, their movement as calming as he moved toward his destination with steady steps.
In particular, a special high-class dancing establishment, the same one had visited before, but this time, without Sirius to accompany him. Yet, he wasn't alone as well, as he could see a certain brown-haired witch waiting for him near the entrance, her face blushing hard under the questioning gaze of the passersby about the particular location she had chosen to wait.
Harry walked toward her, waving smugly. "Hermione, you made it, just in time," he said smugly as he caught her gaze, enjoying her blush.
She didn't answer, clearly feeling too shy as she was about to visit a strip club with him. "Why so red? You are the one that asked me to call the next time I visited," Harry said.
"Did I?" she whispered hesitantly, clearly not remembering it the same way. She was correct, of course, but considering they had been in the middle of a very intense embrace as they talked about that, Harry was betting on her lacking confidence in her conclusion.
"Why would you arrive immediately the moment you received the message if you didn't?" Harry said, not bothering to hide his victorious smirk.
"Well…" Hermione said as she hesitantly glanced at the door of the strip club, but that didn't prevent her from hooking her arm around his once he presented it. "Where are we going?" she asked as they started moving, but not toward the door.
"We still have one important thing to handle," Harry said as he dragged her toward an alley, which would have alarmed her much more if it wasn't him that was dragging her.
"What-" she asked, only to freeze as he hit her with a spell. Luckily, for her, Harry wasn't actually an undercover agent, and targeted her with a simple transfiguration charm.
Targeting her clothes.
"Harry!" she gasped in shock as her clothes transformed. Her jeans maintained the same material, but started to shrink with a great speed, turning into a skirt. Well, technically skirt, but a persuasive person could successfully argue that it was a belt as well. Her shoes expanded rapidly as well, turning into sexy boots.
Her top both got smaller and turned thinner until she was wearing a transparent crop top that displayed her assets to perfection alongside the red lacy bra she was wearing.
And, Harry was yet to transfigure her underwear.
"We need to make sure you look fitting in the place, we don't want people to get suspicious, do we?" Harry said. Naturally, it was an absurd argument, but it was just enough to distract her as he hooked his arm around hers and dragged her toward the entrance.
The bouncer recognized Harry - the power of a generous tip - and gestured them to walk without even bothering to ask for an ID. Harry still passed a few bills to him.
It was easy to maintain the aura of a big spender with money stolen from gangs. And, having a barely-dressed sexy brunette in his arm helped it even better. "Right this way, sir," said the manager, popping into existence quick enough to make Harry suspect she was a witch as well.
Money certainly had its own magic.
"Well, we're in a mood for a private celebration," Harry whispered. "Can you arrange a booth that we can watch the stage without being too visible," Harry asked.
"As you wish, sir," she said, yet she didn't mention sending Penny. Harry doubted that, after all the money he had spent the last time it was a detail that she hadn't been informed about. But the knowing glance she had shot at Hermione revealed the true reason for her silence. Without knowing the relationship between us, she was clearly not willing to take the risk and prompt me about that.
"And, arrange for my friend to accompany us, we want someone familiar taking our orders," Harry said, informing the manager without ruining the surprise he had prepared for Hermione.
"As you wish, sir, follow me," she said before she turned and started walking, her hips dancing beautifully as she did so, but Harry was just able to enjoy the sight for a fleeting moment before Hermione poked his ribs.
"Save your gaze for the dancers," she growled, her frustration barely concealed.
"Well," Harry whispered as he hugged her from behind. "If you're feeling jealous, why don't you walk in front of me and distract me from her hips.
"You're an asshole," she growled, yet did nothing to extract herself from his arms as he hugged her from behind. "And who said I want to distract from looking…"
"If you say so," Harry said as he loosened his arms around her, letting her walk.
She let out an annoyed huff as she started walking. In this case, her hips were certainly more truthful than her mouth, as with every step, her hips swayed with an incredible attraction, it didn't help when she grabbed the side of her skirt to 'fix it', which pulled it higher to give a glimpse of her underwear.
Harry was sure that it was completely accidental.
He was glad that they were going to a private room as he walked behind her, enjoying the glimpse of her ass, barely hidden by her lacy underwear.
Harry was glad that she was his, because he had no doubt that, working in a club like that, she would have been one of the star attractions.
And he was not going to share her with a crowd.
Several steps later, they arrived at the stairs, which hardly calmed her down. Before taking a step, she glanced at a mirror, catching his gaze, which was glued to her ass. He could have hidden his gaze, of course, but she certainly earned the right to know her little show gained her attention.
"Someone's distracted," she whispered smugly as she stood even straighter, her back - naked thanks to the crop top - having a little arc that looked incredibly beautiful.
Harry was tempted to go forward and touch her, but as she started climbing the stairs slowly, her steps unnecessarily wide as she did so, yet still somehow managed to give an impressive sensation. Harry had to admit, that an angry Hermione was much sexier than he expected.
Luckily, he was confident enough to handle the consequences, especially in a muggle area. He chuckled as he followed her, lazily enjoying the glimpse of her treasures as her skirt flipped with her movements.
He had seen her naked before - many times, and from many different angles - but he had to admit, there was a unique charm in seeing her climbing the stairs of a strip club, dressed sluttily enough to be mistaken for one of those strippers.
And, a small corridor later, they faced in a small door. The manager opened the door and gestured them in. "This is your private balcony, sir. We already have a bottle of chilled champagne and a spread of fruits waiting for you. Is there anything else I can send before your private waitress arrives in a minute?"
"Maybe another bottle of champagne, just to be on the safe side," he answered. He didn't miss the subtle trick of the manager trying to force him to buy at least one champagne by default, no doubt with an inflated price…
But it was much easier to spend others' money.
Harry gestured for Hermione to step in and followed behind her. "N-nice room," Hermione stammered as she looked around.
Harry had to admit, that her statement was accurate. The balcony was essentially similar to an opera box, only with a higher stall that was both high enough to block the people from the main area from peeking - through the relative darkness did the most of the work - while also making sure there would be no drunk accident.
The furniture was dark red and satin, giving a sensation of measured sexiness rather than the explosive colors of the other private rooms. No doubt intentional to serve a more distinguished clientele.
"Yeah, the magical world really doesn't know the meaning of luxury," Harry said - but only after casting a spell that would make any recording device start looping - a little spell he discovered, though he needed to make sure he controlled the amount of power he put to prevent the cameras from malfunctioning.
Harry sat down, patting his lap, inviting Hermione to sit down. Yet, before she could do so, the door opened, and another familiar figure, this time a sandy-haired witch, entered.
"Hey, Penny," Harry said as he waved.
Hermione turned, only to freeze. "Penelope," she stammered in shock.
"Hermione," she echoed.
Harry just chuckled, enjoying their shock. One way or another, the night was certainly going to be fun. Their shocked reaction promised that.