INCOHERENT SCREAMING. If you're in the Strictly Dramione group, you've seen snippets of this. Or you've seen me word sprinting with the working title 'Stripper Hermione.' Surprise, Hermione is a Stripper, Draco is her boss, and this is another Muggle AU. BUT the really great thing about this is that...it's already completely written. That's right. Ten chapters, 40k, and it's going to update weekly on Fridays for the next ten weeks, starting todaaaaaay.

A few things - like a warning of sorts -, this is a dramione fanfiction. It's endgame dramione, and HEA. But there is at least one smut scene that is not dramione, even though it includes dramione (it's weird, but trust me it's worth it.) and one time where there's a group sex thing which is super short. That being said, there is a looooot of sex to be had in this. It's probably my favorite thing to have ever written and completed so here. we. go.

Chapter One

Her silk robe was soft against her skin as she sat at the edge of her bed, flicking through her unread messages. Another text from Oliver Wood, who was never going to grasp the fact that it was a solid no and one from her best friend, roommate and co-worker Daphne from earlier on in the night too.

Hermione understood why her friend had been worried - it wasn't every day that your ex boyfriend stormed into your place of work to slander you, throw drinks at you, and whoops, the tumbler had accidentally slammed against her jaw as well. Working as a dancer though, she wasn't surprised. Ronald Weasley was a man she meant to keep in the past, moving on from that nasty part of her life. And she didn't hide the satisfaction from her face when Malfoy tossed him out of the club.

The Shrieking Shack was a gentleman's club, though it shouldn't be called that since Hermione danced for women as well. And sometimes, she smirked to herself, women tipped better than men. Previously in university before she'd been unable to keep up with the cost of living, she'd been working in a restaurant where the tips were shite, and old men smacked her arse as she passed their booths. Daphne had told her their former classmate, and resident playboy, they admitted in giggles, had taken over his father's business.

Hermione had her moral objections to the job, but making upwards of what her rent cost her a night had changed her mind quickly. She'd taken the job as an exotic dancer after ending her relationship with Ron, but as her bad luck would have it, he also visited the Shrieking Shack, and he liked to oogle the nearly naked women on Fridays after work.

She was on the center stage each Friday. There was a rush of power dancing in front of him as his jaw went slack, as she placed her hand daintily against the silver pole and she spun around it.

Her phone rang, shrill in her hand. "Hello?" Hermione's voice was hoarse. "What do you want, Daph?"

The music grew softer as her friend must have been scurrying away from the stages, and the creaking of a door told her that she'd made her way into the dressing room. "You aren't going to believe what happened after you left."

Hermione held the phone up with her shoulder as she made her way into their kitchen, opening the freezer and tugging a bottle of wine free. "Did Ron storm back in? If so, I hope Draco punched that little shit like he was threatening to do." Hermione set the bottle down, grabbing a corkscrew from a drawer and snatching a stemless wine glass from an overhead cupboard. "Hang on, I'm going to put the phone on speaker so I can open this fucking bottle of wine."

Daphne's laugh was shrill as she set her cell phone down on the ivory kitchen island, and she pressed the speaker button. "As much as I'd like to see that - can you imagine him rolling up his sleeves? God, he's,"

"Don't get your knickers wet, Greengrass. He might overhear you." Hermione giggled, and she fought with the damned bottle to get the cork out of it. "I'm aware of how bloody attractive our boss is."

Getting off topic, her friend launched into a completely different topic. "Come off it, Granger. Don't brush off the subject like that, as if you've never seen him without his clothes on."

"Daph," she warned. "We swore we weren't going to talk about that."

"No, we said we wouldn't talk about it in front of other dancers. And would you look at that," Hermione could imagine her friend spinning around the empty dressing room, definitely only wearing a scrap of cloth for knickers. "There's no one fucking here. So don't you pretend that you don't know what it's like to have his cock in your - what the fuck do you want?"

Hermione sighed, hanging up on her friend who didn't know how to keep her mouth shut. It was bad enough that the majority of the other dancers had harbored a not so secret jealousy towards Hermione. Okay, so maybe Malfoy had shown a bit of favoritism, and he might have made some jokes about one time in university. It was nothing more than a party where they had both been ridiculously pissed, and it was a revenge fuck more than anything else.

It had only been because Ron was dry humping Lavender Brown against the wall. And because Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's little sister, had tried to make her almost boyfriend jealous. Hermione sipped her wine, remembering that Draco Malfoy didn't handle jealousy at all. No, he'd gotten even, and left the blonde weeping in a stairwell.

Her friendship with the older Greengrass had come later, and it started as most things do, as nothing. Pansy Parkinson was a raging bitch, and Hermione had been the one to stumble upon Daphne in a weak moment. She just considered it history after that.

She'd been living with Daphne when she was still in university, but gradually things had begun to fall apart. First the funding had been cut in half, the same funding that paid for her scholarship. It wasn't as if she weren't at the top of her class, a spot that she'd fought for. It was that there were several students who had their way paid for them. Whether it was because their parents were on the board, or for whatever fucking reason -

It made her angry just to remember sitting down in Headmaster Dippet's office where she had been told she had lost her scholarship. Fighting it would have taken money she didn't have, and she'd gone on a weekend drinking binge with Daph, and in the process she learned more about the Shrieking Shack. Really, it had started as a way to work towards putting herself through undergrad, and then, it wasn't anymore.

It wasn't how she envisioned her life at twenty-two. It was hard to regret anything that bought her the nicer things in life like the new car that sat in the parking garage of their complex, or the lovely clothes that hung in her closet, or any of the things she found she needed, or wanted. School had gradually slipped away from her, until it was a speck in the proverbial rear view mirror.

Hermione had little doubt she wouldn't continue her education. It was the thought that mildly concerned her. She attended two night classes a week, both of which were on her nights off -Tuesday and Wednesday. It was slow moving, but she hadn't bothered to think that far ahead. Satisfied with where she currently was in life, it was a blip on her radar.

Working as a dancer, a stripper, honestly she couldn't bring herself to care about the title, had shown her some of the things she didn't know she enjoyed.

Those being money, attention, and sex.

Wednesday night Daphne had to miss her shift, and she'd begged Hermione to cover for her after her night class. Sighing, and telling her friend to let her know if Astoria was okay, she'd thrown her bag into the passenger side of her car and made the drive across town. There was a text waiting on her phone from Draco, thanking her and telling her that he would double her pay for the night.

It wasn't a big deal, she reminded him. Wednesday nights were slow, and Katie would be the one on the center stage with all eyes on her. It'd give Hermione enough time to sit at the bar, twirling her pen in between chewing on it, while she poured over her textbook.

In fact, there wasn't much of a reason for her to be here at all, she thought as she parked in the back of the parking lot. She reached over, pressing the button to lock her car out of habit. Taking a look around, she realized it was still a bit silly, but Ron's stunt earlier that week made her wary. The digital clock on her dash told her she had ten minutes before she needed to make her way inside.

Sighing, she threw the car door open. It was freezing. The middle of winter had not been so kind to her, and her trainers broke the layer of ice covering a puddle. Normally, she would have soaked up the time she had left while listening to the radio, but the heat in her car had gone out earlier that day. She'd take it to a shop tomorrow - likely Sirius's, but by the time she'd gotten out from class it was ten o'clock.

Nott waved to her from the entrance, where he opened the side door for employees. "You're working tonight?" He looked down at her, his hair tousled, and there was a dark mark under his jaw. "Granger, what are you - ow, fuck!"

She stepped forward, dropping her backpack, and tilted his head up, lightly cupping his jaw. "This wasn't here Monday night. What happened to you?" A bruise was forming beneath where her thumb rested. "Theo, tell me who fucking punched you in the face."

"You're lucky there aren't any guests, doll. I can't have you making me look like a delicate flower." He laughed, catching her hand, and pushing it away. "Your damned weasel -"

"He's not my damned anything." She protested, her nose crinkling in disgust. "Ron punched you? Ron?"

"He's a fucking hothead, Granger. What did you expect?"

She shook her head, grinning ear to ear while she adjusted her jumper. "No, I expected him to hit you. I also expected for you to be better than to get hit."

He glared at her. "If you thought this was bad, you're going to flip your shit when you see Draco."

Her eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

He gave a shrug, watching a regular go by before telling her a word. "Weasley was angry about that time in university, and then he found out about that time with Daphne and Draco-"

"If you're the reason the rest of out co workers find out, I'm going to murder you." Hermione hissed. She leaned against the wall, one leg crossed over the other.

He waved her off. "Malfoy was egging him on; he wanted a reason to beat the shite out of Weasley. So he brought it up - no one was around, stop giving me that look -, and it was pretty bloody by the time I got there. Crabbe is terrible security, and I'm fairly certain Malfoy was handling it on his own from the start. How's the jaw?" His thumb grazed where she'd covered the purple bruise. "That was a pretty nasty hit with that tumbler."

"I'm fine," she replied. "It's a bit sore, but I'm going to talk to Malfoy now."

"You never told me where Daph was." Theo said.

"Oh," she mumbled, taking her backpack from him as he handed it to her. "Astoria collapsed at work. She was almost to the hospital when their mum called Daph. I'm not sure what's going on." She waited for his nod before pulling the steel door open.

The Shrieking Shack was always loud on this side - and she craved it. The flashing lights, though they made her nauseous if she'd had too much to drink, the loud, thumping music that she liked to dance to, and the familiar feeling it gave her. She wasn't so silly to think it was the establishment that felt like home, but the people. Or the majority of them anyway. As she passed Goyle, she remembered that there were still some employees she couldn't bring herself to like.

Crabbe was typically at Goyle's side, and she didn't stop to ask, already forming her own conclusion. Holding her five inch heels in her left hand, she stormed across the club, and snuck into the back corridor. Draco's office was at the end of it, behind another security door that she punched the code in for. If he wanted privacy, he shouldn't have it set as his sodding birthday.

"Granger?" He looked up from his desk, dropping his pen, and leaning back in his chair. He wore a tailored suit, and her eyes raked over him hungrily. As much as she did prefer to keep certain things in the past, it didn't mean she didn't like to look at him. "Shouldn't you be in the dressing room."

Hermione rolled her eyes, dropping her backpack into the chair across from him. His eyes widened as she made her way around the desk, rearranging it so she could hop onto it. "Theo says Ron attacked you, or rather that you made him attack you."

"That's true."

She sighed. "What exactly did you say to him then?"

His grin was wicked, his soft lips - she knew they were, alright? - curving into a smile. "I told him how he couldn't satisfy you when you were with him, and he told me how I didn't know a fucking thing about your relationship. I gently reminded him that I knew quite a bit about fucking you. And then I told him how it was pathetic he couldn't satisfy you when I had fucked you and Daphne."

Her chest rose as fell, her heart beating erratically at the way he looked at her. "You're going to make every other dancer despise me, Malfoy." She accused. "We've been over this before, you know."

He shrugged. "So we have, but even if they don't like it, they can leave. I gave you a job because we're friends -"

She scoffed. "We weren't friends; we'd fucked one, solitary time at a party in university. We're friends now, but don't use that as an excuse."

He drummed his fingers against his desk. "Alright, you've caught me. I hired you because I wanted to see your delectable arse every night of my week, and then I'd fuck you over my desk until men who like to watch you knew exactly who you belong to."

"It's impolite to tease." Hermione snorted. "Was anyone around when you told him that?"

Draco shook his head. "Just Daphne, and later Theo. I'm fine, Granger."

"I can see that. Theo made it sound like you were fucked up, but all I can see is this little cut right here." Hermione leaned forward, tilting his head up as she'd done to Theo. "How on earth did you manage to get your lip cut?" Hermione pulled the drawer beside her legs open, snatching the first aid kit from it.

"You don't have to baby me; what you should be doing is getting dressed." Malfoy didn't make a move away from her though.

"There's four guests watching Katie, and Tracey is taking a fifteen minute break behind the counter. So, I think it will be fine if I take an extra five minutes." Pulling a tube from the small white box, she uncapped it and squirted a bit of it on her finger. "Stop fighting me; come here, Malfoy."

"You're not my mum," he laughed, and when she grabbed the arm of his leather chair to roll him closer to her, Draco pulled her right off of his desk and into his lap. "Stop wiggling your arse, Granger. I know that's what I pay you to do, but,"

She groaned, holding him still by his chin, and dabbing the cream onto his lip. "You're ridiculous." Hermione muttered. "Was this what you wanted? Me in your lap?"

He grumbled, "I'd prefer you bent over my lap."

"It's impolite to tease." She reminded him, again, and she froze as she heard four beeps coming from the security door. She scrambled away from him, landing on her feet, and taking three steps away from him. And then whatever code they had entered failed. "Are you bloody serious? The code is your birthday, and they can't even get that right?"

He chuckled, throwing the first aid kit back into his desk. "I'm flattered that you know my birthday."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Typically four digit pins are an important date, and considering you're a narcissist, it was obviously going to be your birthday."

"Perhaps I'll change it to your birthday."

Rolling her eyes again, which she admit she did an awful lot when he was around, she told him "That just wouldn't make sense. I'm going - also, where is Crabbe?"

The playful smile slipped from his face. "I fired him."

If you'd be so kind to smash that button, and leave me feedback so I'm less nervous, I'd love you endlessly!