A/N: This is a silly, smutty, OOC Dramione short story. Enjoy!

This was the first story I ever wrote!

1/30/11- I've edited a bit but it's still the same story

Disclaimer: I do not own HP or the characters associated with it. I'm making no money from this

"And together, and drop! Drop it like it's hot ladies. Hip out, hip out…"

Hermione sighed inwardly. Why I am I here again? Oh yes, because I've spent the last four months drowning myself in my research and a daily pint of sinfully good chocolate turtle ice cream. Too sinfully good in fact. It's not my fault I am destined to single-handedly heal all the patients in the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo's! While simultaneously liberating house elves and other mistreated magical folk around the world! These kinds of things take dedication! It also isn't my fault that after a particularly grueling night in my lab, I came home to find that my live-in boyfriend Ron was leaving me to find someone more 'emotionally available.' Emotionally available? If Hermione Granger were one thing, it was emotionally available!... To house elves and potions ingredients. Okay, so maybe that was my fault.

"Okay, now next, we're going to turn while unbuttoning our shirts. And I want to see your hands on your body—don't be afraid to touch yourselves, ladies! And if you're really getting that, you can add something fun, like a sexy stare that says 'I'm mentally undressing you.' Don't act like you don't know what I mean; I know you've all done it at least once."

Hermione was weighing her options. I could appease Ginny and my inner 'sex minx' as she likes to call it, or I could happily continue to be comfortably numb with Misters Ben and Jerry. On one hand, the minx has been clawing at my insides recently, due to the—err, lack of stimulation? Okay, so my libido has been slowly eating away at my brain. But I don't want to go out like a slag and have a one night romp. Complete with scandalously gratifying heavy petting and the mind-shattering feeling of a man inside me that makes feel like a real woman. I can just imagine him pouring chocolate sauce all over my beasts and licking it off my peaked nipples tantalizingly slow…

"Hermione! We're going to do the dance all together with the music now. You can fantasize about the shag of your life later."

Hermione turned several shades pink as she gave Ginny the 'don't utter another word or I'll Avada your ass' stare. Who thought Ginny would've spent her spare time teaching a striptease class at a Muggle gym during the Quidditch off-season? And since when could Ginny read my mind? Probably since we'd known each other for over a decade. At any rate, Ginny was always more confident with her femininity than I… Nonetheless, Ginny had convinced me that I needed to release my negative vibes and start feeling like a sexy single woman. So here I am, Hermione Granger, one third of the Golden Trio, learning how to take my clothes off and to appear mouthwateringly enticing while doing it. Like a nice juicy piece of steak. Okay, that's the wrong image. A nice voluptuous piece of fruit, just waiting to be bitten. That's more like it.

The music began and Hermione followed Ginny and the class as they began to slowly walk around the carefully placed chair each had in front of them. As she got to the front of the chair, she put her left foot onto the seat while running her hand up and down her leg.

Damn, I need to shave. I wonder how long it's been. Focus, Hermione! Okay, now I've got to unbutton my shirt and shake my hips. You know, maybe Ginny was right. I'm beautiful, wicked smart, and a sex kitten!

Hermione waited as everyone cleared the classroom and Ginny straightened up the mats.

"So, Hermione…"

Hermione recognized that tone instantly. "…. Yes?"

"There's this club down in Muggle London that I think we should check out tonight."

"A club. I'm not much into clubs you know?"

"Yea…. Well, okay, it's a strip club."

"WHAT? You want me, Hermione Granger, to go to a strip club. Me! Hermione Granger! You know I agreed to your class only because it was innocent fun. I'm not going to go watch people professionally take their clothes off. For money!"

Ginny grinned. "Well, actually, it's amateur night, so we would be doing the removing-of-clothes, not the professionals. And it's not sleazy, Hermione, it's just good fun. You've become a bloody nun, Hermione. You need to get out there emotionally and sexually. It'll be good for you. And I promise no creeps copping a feel or anything, and you only have to take off as much as you want."

"I can't believe you actually think I'd consider this. I'm Hermione Granger! I have an image to uphold! I'm a role model for all young women out in the world who want more out of life than being barefoot and pregnant, and you know…"

"Hermione, it's a Muggle club! No one will recognize you or know that you helped save the entire wizarding world from the most evil person of all time."

"But still…"

"There's no choice, Mione. You're going if I have to put you under the Imperius. I command it. I'm breaking you out of your self-imposed chastity belt. Now let's find you something to wear that will have every man drooling oceans at the sight of you."

And here she was. Hermione Granger was standing at the entrance of the Oasis, stunning onlookers in her knee high black boots and mini pleated skirt. She topped the Catholic schoolgirl outfit off with a pressed white collared shirt that she had conveniently left unbuttoned and a black lacey bra underneath. Ginny, dressed in a matching outfit, grabbed her arm and dragged her inside. The place was packed full of men and women alike, intently watching the woman on stage perform a cowgirl routine.

"Oh Merlin, Ginny, I can't do this in front of all these people! There are so many! Bloody hell I can't do this. I can't do this!"

"Hermione Jean Granger! Where is that Gryffindor courage? Get your shit together and we're going to go out there and dazzle these people with our beautiful bodies!" Ginny commanded as Hermione gave her an imploring look. Unfortunately, Ginny was unaffected by Hermione's silent pleas.

They found a woman sitting at a desk and registered to perform. She then led them backstage to a private dressing room and told them they'd be on in ten. Ginny busied herself with Hermione's makeup, while Hermione did her best not to vomit all over Ginny's face. They were close, you know, but not that close. Ginny would probably mind if she got a mouthful of Hermione's stomach contents. Her nerves were not treating her well. Before she had sufficient time to calm herself, the woman was back and leading them to the stage. Ginny only had to threaten to put her in a body bind once before Hermione quieted her protests and went along. And just like that, the lights were down. She straddled the chair, the music began to play, and Hermione stood up to begin the routine…

Draco was still baffled by the fact that he was standing in front of a Muggle strip club with none other than his best mate Blaise Zabini. He was also known as "The Italian Stallion" by females across Europe. Blaise had been on a Muggle women craze lately and had convinced Draco to come check out the Muggle women scene with him. And by convinced, he really meant forced. Blaise had won the 'who-can-shag-more-women-in-a-week' contest between them, and this was his prize... Draco Malfoy at a Muggle strip club. He really didn't mind the fact that they were Muggles… Blaise just tended to associate with odd women… One night he'd come home to their flat to find Blaise doing number seventeen (the spread eagle) right in the middle of the kitchen with a skinny woman with purple and green hair and piercings in every part of the body that could be pierced (and then some). That was one sight he wished he could obliviate from him memory. He didn't quite understand why Blaise was into the odd ones…. Probably a weird fetish. He preferred them blonde, gorgeous, and brainless. His kind of women were bountiful and easy to dispose of.

Nonetheless, here he was, Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Sex God, at the Oasis in Muggle London. He and Blaise paid the cover fee and made their way to a table at the right corner of the stage. The current girl was making a poor attempt at being a naughty cowgirl who needed a good spanking. Draco almost felt bad for her… she was making a right fool of herself. He quickly reminded himself that he was Draco Malfoy and thus did not feel compassion. Blaise gave him an expression that said, "next please" and he nodded in agreement. After the girl was finally finished, there was a brief intermission during which Draco headed for the bar. If all the performances were going to be this atrocious, he was going to need to be good and liquored up. He started to order a firewhisky but quickly corrected himself by ordering the only Muggle drink he'd ever heard of: vodka martini, shaken not stirred. The bartender rolled his eyes at the seriousness of his request and muttered something about a wannabe, whatever the hell that was. He tried to pay the bartender, but was informed that his drink had already been taken care of, courtesy of the young women by the couches. Draco looked over to find the cowgirl and her friend smiling suggestively and winking at him.

"Jesus Fucking Christ Almighty," Draco thought. He left Muggle swearing only to the most detestable of situations. This definitely qualified as such. He knew his wicked good looks were both a gift and a curse. He had to take the good with the bad, or should he say talentless, cowgirls. Without so much as a nod, he dashed back over to Blaise, who gave him a quizzical look. He responded with a glare to the cowgirl over on the couch. Blaise chuckled and turned back to the stage since new music was starting to play.

The lights were dim and he could make out two figures straddling chairs in the middle of the stage. As the music got louder, the figures stood up on the chairs and began gyrating to the music. The lights came up, but the girls were still facing the back of the stage; he could tell that one was a brunette with wild curls and the other a redhead with long straight hair. Their routine was spot on—all their moves were perfectly in sync. Suddenly, the girls turned around with a sexy hair flip and his eyes instantly recognized the pair of Gryffindors shaking their asses on the stage. His brain told him to look away, but his eyes wouldn't move. Holy FUCK, he was watching Hermione Granger, princess of purity, take off her clothes like a sex kitten.