Strip Tease... Dramione.

La Máscara...

POV: Draco. Knockturn Alley... August 2000.
Play the song. 😍😏🖤

"Come on you tosser! They're only open for the next few hours! We already closed down The Poison Apple!"

Blaise roared in front of me in a drunken stupor laughing and pulling me outside of this blasted bar, onto our next drunken target. I already had too much, but I wasn't about to let him think so...

I'm Malfoy, for fucks sakes.

We made our way around the corner, seeing the large magically lit florescent sign in the sky, in bright pink and green...

'The Witch's Craft...'

"Oh, fucking hell Zabini, not this again. Get it in your thick head! Strippers do not like you! It's an act! They want your galleons, you drunk..."

"Come on Malfoy! They've got a new dancer I hear! They call her La Máscara... The mask! She's supposed to be blindingly brilliant! Come on! I promise I won't fall for another one!"

"Is your restraining order still intact?!" I asked my best friend, mocking his gluttony of sick actions.

"Nope. She dropped the charges..." He sneered winking. Proud of himself, standing before the black leathered textile door with conductive buttons punched in sequences, grabbing the golden long handle... For us to make our grand entrances into questful aphrodisia...

Ever since the war something changed in me...

I wanted no responsibilities, no one to answer to, no one tell me what was right or wrong, no one tell me what I should be doing with my life.

So for the past two years, I'd been drinking myself into oblivion, going against everything I was raised on, and living in the moment.

I gambled, bet on Quidditch matches, and scouted for the best Quidditch players for the Ballycastle Bats... For fast wizarding money.

I wanted something different for me and for my life. I was selfish and reckless... the war had put a scar on my life. But it did not fucking break me...

I longed for freedom... I needed adventure... and no one was going to hold me back.

I thought all of this for the past two years.

Until tonight.

When it all changed...

We walked through the smoky strippers lounge... noticing what everyone had their eyes focused and fixated in translation of captivity on,

Her...

La Máscara.

I'd never seen any woman dance even remotely close to how sexily gifted this witch was. She commanded the stage, the pole, and the room. Not a soul was blinking in awestruck at the performance of lustrous flirting of wanting before us. Her in sync rhythms of ecstasy to the hard rock music, told me exactly what she be like in bed...

She wore an auroral pink and black laced mask over her dark made up eyes. Creating an even more desirable longing in her irresistible secretive identity. She was a beautiful creature. I wondered why on Salazar Slytherin, she wanted to cover her face? Her assets were all but fucking worthy of any witch I'd ever bed. She was honestly breathtaking.