Written for:

Hogwarts Animagus Training. Task: Write about someone willingly going through an uncomfortable experience. Be sure to include the why.

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

Hermione nibbled her lower lip as she picked up her Nokia phone. She picked Harry's number from the address book, then waited for him to pick up.
"Hey, Hermione."
"Harry? Can I come over?"
"What, now? I'm just about to leave for work."
"Can you call in and say that you're going to be late? I really need to talk to you."
She heard Harry sigh. "Okay, I'll call in. Hop on over any time now; you can apparate into the garden."
"Thanks, Harry."

-x-x-

She pocketed the phone, then focused on Harry's home and disappeared from her home, only to reappear in the garden of Grimmauld Place with a crack. She entered through the back door, finding Harry in the kitchen.

"I floo-called the Ministry. They weren't that happy, but I guess being a war hero helps sometimes," Harry said. "Come, have some tea with me."

Hermione sat down at the table and waited for Harry to pour her some tea. She sipped it slowly until Harry broke the silence.

"What was it you needed so urgently?"

"Harry, I hate to ask this, but can I borrow money from you?"

Harry looked surprised. "Borrow money? Sure, I guess, how much?"

"Twenty thousand pounds," Hermione said in a small voice.

Harry blinked. "Sorry, I must've misheard you… how much did you say?"

"Twenty thousand, Harry," Hermione repeated. "Please!"

"That… that's a lot of money. What could you possibly need that much for?"

"It's my mum, Harry. She's been diagnosed with cancer and—" her voice broke, "—and they said it's likely terminal. The doctor gave her less than six months to live!"

"Wow… that is terrible. How long has she known?"

"Ever since they got back from Australia," Hermione said, sniffling slightly. "She had some stomach issues and the doctors found it during a check-up. It's bowel cancer, and there is a drug that might work, but the NHS won't fund it!"

"And that costs £20,000?" Harry asked, disbelief in his voice.

"Yes, it does. And since they had to sell the dentistry clinic at a loss when I sent them off to Australia, they don't have the savings for it. And I certainly don't have that much money, either. So, Harry, please, can I borrow it from you?"

Harry sighed. "Hermione, I really would love to help you, but I don't have that much either. I'm hardly getting by on my trainee Auror wages, to be honest."

Now it was Hermione's turn to look disbelievingly. "But everyone always says you're rich! Ron said you have a vault full of money at Gringotts!"

"Hermione, my parents left me a vault with enough money to pay for Hogwarts and a little extra. If it weren't for the small inheritance I got from Sirius, I probably would have to sell this place to the Malfoys."

"But that's your trust vault, right? Don't you have a family vault, too?"

"I wish," Harry scoffed. "Look, I really feel bad for you, really. But I can't help you with this, Hermione. Have you asked Poppy if she can help?"

"Of course I did. Wizards can't cure cancer, either," Hermione said, sounding sad. "Well… thanks, I guess. I… I will see you later." She got up from the table and went straight outside, then disapparated.

-x-x-

With her last lifeline proving to be a bust, Hermione started to get a little desperate. The Goblins did not lend out money, period, so her only option was the Muggle side. And no bank would lend twenty thousand to an unemployed woman without a school history, so regular banks were out, too.

She had applied for a job at the Ministry of Magic and managed to get hired part-time by the Misuse of Magical Artifacts office, but that wasn't enough by far to pay for the drug so she still needed something else. Then, one day after her Ministry shift and about a month after she had gone to Harry to beg for money, she saw an ad in the Muggle newspaper.

'I couldn't possibly,' she thought as she read it again. 'But it would pay well… and it's not like I have much of an alternative.'

Grimacing, she circled the ad, and decided to visit the location the next day.

-x-x-

All Things Nice, it advertised proudly above the entryway in white and red neon. The inside was dark, no surprise since the door advertised it would open at 9pm, over four hours from now, but she was sure this was the right address. Hermione rang the doorbell and waited, nibbling her lower lip as she fought the urge to turn around and walk away.

She did not have to wait long until the door was opened by a short, fat, and balding man with a cigarette in his mouth. "What do you want, luv?" he asked, visibly checking her out.

Hermione felt dirty just standing there. She had dressed in a black, form-fitting dress and heels for the occasion and wore a dark jacket over it, but under his stare she might as well be naked.

"Well? Did you come here just to stand around or what?" the man asked.

"Oh… I, I saw you ad, in the paper, and I thought I'd—"

A wide grin appeared on his face. "Oh, you're here to try out! Well come on in girlie. The manager is currently dealing with another dancer, you can go on as soon as she's done." He stepped away to make room for her to enter and she walked past him.

The inside looked less sleazy than she had been expecting, in fact it looked very much like a normal bar, except for the large circular podium in the centre and the various booths with a pole surrounded by benches. The centre podium held another pole, around which a peroxide blonde girl was currently twirling her legs. Hermione gasped as she realised the girl was completely naked, displaying her (obviously fake) breasts and shaved genitalia for all the world to see. Well, for the man who had let her in, Hermione, and a man in a suit who sat in front of the stage, that was.

A pounding beat played through the club but just as Hermione got near the stage it stopped.

-x-x-

"Excellent, Pearl. Just what I want in my girls," the suit-wearing man said to the dancer. "You can start this Saturday, and then two more times the following week. I'll let Jasmine work out the schedule with you."

"Thanks, Johnny," the naked girl — Pearl — said. She picked up her clothes, discarded on the stage, then walked to the back curtains carrying them, still naked.

The suited man turned to face Hermione now, then visibly looked her over just as the other man had.
"Welcome to All Things Nice, doll. Lose the jacket, would you?"

Hermione frowned. "Hello to you too. I'm Hermione and I—"

"Herrayone? That's a horrible stage name. Change it to… Chastity I think. Now how about losing the jacket?"

Hermione opened her jacket and removed it, placing it on the chair behind her. The man smacked his lips as he checked her over.

"I like, I like. Name's John Hawke, by the way, general manager of this fine establishment. "Now, Chastity, do you want to audition straight away?"
Hermione swallowed. "I, I just wanted to be sure about the position. It's just dancing, right? No… other stuff?"

John looked her straight in the eyes for the first time. "That's right, doll. Just dancing and stripping. We have the centre stage here where most of the acts take place, and then we also have some poles in booths for private acts. There's also some private rooms downstairs for VIP clients, but there's an absolute zero policy on touching here. And if I even get a hint that you're whoring yourself out to clients, you're out of the door faster than you can even blink."

"That… that's good. How much would it pay?"

"Pay?" John raised an eyebrow. "We don't pay you, you pay us £40 for each shift, and ten percent of your tips. You keep the rest."

"Oh. But I thought—"

"I know what you thought, but that's not how it works in the real world. The dancers are not employees, they're contractors. We offer you a stage to work on and security, as well as the existing clientele. Most of our dancers take home around seven hundred to twelve hundred pounds per shift, so it's not like you're losing money. Got it? Still want to join us?"

"I get it," Hermione said, nodding. "Then yes, I want to be a dancer."

"That's what I like to hear. Go through the door to the left of the stage. Jasmine, one of my regular dancers, should be back there and she can help you get ready. Once you have your routine worked out, come out on the stage and you can show me why I should want to let you work here."

Hermione nodded, picking up her jacket but not wearing it yet, and walked to the indicated door. She felt both men's eyes on her arse as she walked there, realizing they would soon see a lot more from her.

-x-x-

Jasmine gave her an encouraging smile as Hermione stepped onto the walkway to the stage. In the back she had put on heavy make-up: blood red lipstick, thick mascara, and eyeliner. The black dress seemed almost painted on her body and under it she wore her sexiest pair of black nylons.

The music started pounding a rhythm as she walked to the centre of the stage. With one hand she grabbed the pole, then graciously twirled around it, leaning over backwards as low as she dared. She stood back up and twirled to the rhythm as she grabbed her own breasts, licking her lips as she caught the eyes of John. She gave him a wink, then twirled around the pole again, allowing herself to land in a seated position. Deliberately, she spread her legs, giving him an upskirt view of her black thong.

'Time to lose the dress,' she reminded herself, standing back up and twirling around the pole once more. Swaying around she pushed the shoulder straps of her dress off, then bent down as she pushed it to her middle. She twirled in place and then sat down again, pushing the dress past her bum and then stepped out of it.

Her face was burning red as she stood there in a small thong and tiny black bra but she knew she had to impress the client now. As she danced around the pole she saw him smack his lips appreciatively and soon enough she worked up the courage to discard her bra. Reaching back with her right hand she covered her breasts with her left until the bra was loose, then did another backwards tilt on the pole as she let it drop, catching it with her right hand and throwing it to John.

"Nice move, Chastity, but don't do that in a normal show unless you want to lose the bra permanently," John said.

Hermione nodded, then did another few twirls around the pole, trying to ignore how her breasts were on display for both men to see.

"What about the thong?" John asked when the song died, and before a new one could start up.

Hermione froze. "I… I am not sure if..."

"Fully naked girls take home a lot more in tips, but if you don't want to, I understand," John said.

"I'll keep it on, then," Hermione said.

"Okay. Well, I've seen enough. You can start Saturday with Pearl, and like her, I'll offer you three shifts for the first week. We have a deal?"

"Deal," Hermione said, nodding.

"Perfect. Looking forward to getting to know you better, Chastity," John said.

-x-x-

After working out a schedule with Jasmine Hermione left the club, then apparated home from a side alley. She threw herself on her bed and cried out of shame and humiliation, but this was really her best way to save her mother… even just seven hundred pounds could buy her the first dose of medicine, and if all it cost was her pride… well, it was worth it.