Pink Pansies and Blue Silk

My Kind Of Trouble

Pansy pressed one finger to Hermione's lips and the other on the rotted wooden door in front of them. She rapped on it, loudly, making the old planks groan and rattle. A small rectangular panel at Pansy's eye level slid open and two light grey eyes in a pale face, framed with white blonde eyebrows and ghostly freckles, looked out at them.
"What's the password?" A light, sing-songy voice asked, flickering between Pansy and Hermione.
"Resist," Pansy said confidently, not looking at the confused expression on Hermione's face.
"No," the eyes said calmly. "But I like you."
Pansy shrugged as the door swung open and the owner of the voice stepped into the doorway. She had long, white golden waves of hair that brushed her waist and a  large pair of purple and gold glasses on the top of her head. She wore a long dress with a deep blue bodice and a multitude of maroon and silver petticoats, and her pale pink lips twitched into a smile.
"This is the girl you've been talking about," she said knowingly, her eyes wide and wise. "She's prettier than I thought she would be."
"Thank you?" Hermione said, unsurely, her hand curling around Pansy's.
Pansy shook her head, pulling Hermione past the blonde and down a short stone corridor. Hermione had been bundled into a cab, dragged across unevenly cobbled streets, squeezed through tiny alleys, bustled through busy and less-than-legal underground markets - but it seemed worth it when she rounded the corner.
There was what could only be described as an underground secret club. Highly polished wooden panels lined the floors, reflecting the lights shining out of pink, purple and blue lampshades. Tiny mahogany tables, each with a single burning candle, littered the sides of the room, two red velvet chairs tucked under each one. To Hermione's right was a long wooden bench making up the bar, which a red headed girl with her back to them stood behind, cleaning glasses in front of a wall of narrow shelves and dark glass bottles.
And far in front of her, across the smooth floor, was a raised stage with a backdrop of red velvet curtains. The initials R.o.R. was ingrained in silver loops and curls on them. The stage had a small grand piano on it and a soft pink light shone down on the platinum blonde boy expertly working the ivory and ebony keys. His voice was low, meaningful, and sailed out through the room effortlessly.
Hermione turned to Pansy with an awe-struck look on her voice, her jaw almost hitting the ground.
"What is this place?" She whispered, subconsciously hushing herself.
"This is the Room of Requirement," the blonde girl said, bolting the door. "Enjoy your stay."
Hermione watched as the girl floated over to the bar. The girl with scarlet hair tied up in a green ribbon turned around to face her, setting down the glass she was working on. She wore a cream blouse with rolled-up sleeves, a leather corset and tailored black trousers. She said something in a low voice to the blonde, her hazel eyes gleaming, causing the other girl to laugh in a twinkling, wind-chime like tone, before leaning over the bar and quickly kissing her.
Hermione's head snapped to Pansy so fast her neck clicked painfully. Her mouth dropped open as Pansy shrugged, grinning, and lead her over to one of the tables closer to the stage, their boots clicking over the hardwood floor. Pansy pulled a chair out for Hermione, letting her sit down first, before passing a small black menu to Hermione. She leafed through it as Pansy took her seat, leaning back and looking over at the twentysomething on the stage. His silk blue neckerchief looked somewhat familiar to Hermione, but she was certain she hadn't seen him before.
The blonde girl appeared at their table, smiling down at the two of them. "Have you decided?"
Pansy nodded at Hermione, smiling.
"I'll have a sherry cobbler, please," she said setting down the menu and sliding it over to Pansy.
"My usual, Luna," Pansy said, passing back the menu. The girl nodded, setting down two red napkins on their table.
"Ginny's already got it lined up," she said proudly, heading back over to the bar.
Hermione leaned over to Pansy, taking the quiet heartbeat as the pianist shuffled sheet music and adjusted his silver tailcoat.
"How often do you come here?" She asked, loving the coloured lights illuminating and staining Pansy's face.
Pansy shrugged. "Only when I'm looking for trouble," she said nonchalantly.
Hermione nodded, grabbing Pansy's hand under the table. "I think this is my kind of trouble."
Pansy laughed, her voice blurring in with the pianist starting up again.
Luna set down a tall glass of ice and golden liquid, topped with a slice of lime, in front of Hermione and a cocktail glass of dark red and orange in front of Pansy. Pansy thanked her, taking a short sip and avoiding the sugar smeared over the rim.
"Oh, and more often since my cousin started playing here."
"Wait," Hermione's gaze flicked from Pansy's smirking face to the pianist and back, finally clicking where the neckerchief came from. "Your what?!"