Glow

"Another one, mate?"

He looked up to see the bartender gesturing toward his empty Scotch glass. "If you would," he replied, and slid the glass toward the bartender. "Make it a double," he added as a side thought. The man nodded and refilled his glass, plunking it down in front of him. The amber liquid swirled around the ice, looking warm and comforting.

He knew he really shouldn't be drinking...he was on an assignment, one deemed "very important to the Order" by Dumbledore. But, when he sat down at the bar to await the arrival of the informant, that Scotch had just looked so tempting..and it was terribly cold outside. The Scotch also performed the magical act of allowing the hard beats and insanely high level of volume of the Muggle music surrounding him to be drowned out. It just had to be a Muggle dance club where the informant wanted to meet, he thought crossly. A small, dark place, packed with Muggles all drinking and rubbing up against each other in some kind of inane mating ritual. Had they no shame? No one did anything proper anymore.

"Pardon me," a female voice said as he felt someone brush against his back. He turned to see...more like peer, in the darkness a pair of brown eyes and a slight smile. "I was trying to get that glass there," she said, pointing to a martini glass at his left elbow.

"No problem," he replied as the girl grabbed the glass and shot him a smile.

She started to walk away, but turned and said, "If you don't mind my saying so, aren't you a bit old to be here? I mean, this all must seem so silly to you."

A bit taken aback by her words, he shook his head. "If I had it my way, I'd be at home right now, but I promised a friend I'd meet him here. And yes, I do mind," he added, bristling slightly at her brazen attitude. His eyes locked with hers, and she grinned.

"Didn't mean to offend," she said, and took off, martini in hand, for the dance floor, which was now encased in red spotlights. A heavy beat coursed through the club, and he turned back to his drink.

"Muggles," he muttered, but as he said it, something familiar struck him. Those brown eyes looked rather much like....impossible. She would not be in some club, dancing away and, above it all, drinking. She was a graduated student, and a respected member of the Ministry now. She had joined the fight against the Dark Lord, one that had not yet been won. But curiosity has struck him, and he had a bit yet before his informant was to arrive, so he swiveled around on his barstool and squinted in the red light, looking for her.

Their eyes met again as she was sitting at a table in a nearby corner, chatting with a good-looking Muggle boy. The martini was not hers, he saw, but for the boy now looking at her like she was a rather delicious treat. She smiled, only taking her eyes off the boy (or was he just a very young looking adult?) to send a wink his way.

A sly look

A careless brush

Perhaps, a twist of the lips

That makes the other one grin

Ever so slightly

He smiled back, ever so slightly, still confused as to her identity. But she was flirting with him...something no one had done in quite a while. His eyes roamed over her figure for just the briefest of moments, and he then cast his gaze about, scanning the club for his informant. He could show up early, after all.

Centuries old is the game they play

This dance of allure and seduction

He gave himself a mental slap as he downed the Scotch, having not seen the informant. He was not here to put up with some Muggle's poor attempts at flirtations with a much older man. He did not need a distraction...not that she really was one.

He sat staring at his empty glass ten minutes later, having waved the bartender off. If this bloody informant didn't show up soon...well, he wasn't about to wait around all night for someone who supposedly had information about the Dark Lord's next move. With nothing to capture his attention, he turned back to the dance floor. It was actually quite amusing to watch some of those Muggles trying to dance. Waving their arms about, grabbing onto each other...as grotesque as it sometimes was, there was something oddly humorous as well.

His dark eyes slid across the floor, and locked on to the girl and her dance partner, the one she had been talking to. His arms were wrapped around her waist, hers around his neck, and they were moving against each other, slowly. Despite the fact that the beat was fast and everyone else was moving at frantic paces. The obvious sexuality of the other dances hummed through his body, and he paid it no attention...but they were different. Their dance was slow, sensual, and exact. No flailing about, no frenzied movements. Just utter sensuality, off in their own little world, eyes locked onto each other, bodies moving together.

Inappropriate

Some would claim

But they don't see it as such

There is a finesse

One must possess

To obtain what is wanted...

Needed

He watched until the song changed, and they broke apart. The spell had been lifted, and she left him standing on the dance floor, obviously wanting more. She sat down right beside him and sighed. "I don't suppose you dance."

"You would be correct, miss," he replied coldly, not wanting to let her know how much her little show had gotten to him. Thank Merlin he was wearing black, and it was dark in the club. He signaled the bartender, and was granted another double Scotch. He focused on the amber liquid, on the ice cubes..anything to avoid her unnerving stare.

Her hand on his made him jump, and looked up to see her smiling slightly. "I don't supposed you would want to dance, with me, that is," she said. "I happen to be rather good, you know."

His mind was shouting its opposition, yelling at him for abandoning his post and allowing this...girl, this Muggle girl, to seduce him out onto the dance floor, and his everything else was voicing sheer joy at her presence, so close to his.....

The object of sudden obsession

A spark, the warmth

Of that new gaze

Amber in its caress

Soft hands went around his neck, and he froze, stuck between nervousness and disbelief that he was doing this. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he did what the boy had done earlier, but his grip was not so possessive, but more...intimate. The music was still heavy, the beat reverberating in his ears, rattling his rib cage, and strumming other parts and places. She leaned close to him, her breath on his neck, and she started to move, slowly, carefully, as she didn't want to spook him. The lights dimmed, and the red spotlights came back on, spinning around the room and casting it into a dull haze.

The glow casts about the room

But is felt only by those

Who understand its reach

It has its own hazy way

Of seducing even the most innocent

Of mind, of body

He could feel the heat from her body through her thin shirt. She wasn't dressed inappropriately, but there was something quietly seductive about the black pants and silk shirt she was wearing. It spoke of a secret allure that seemed to take over him. And, despite the warnings in his head, he didn't care that she was leaning into him, pressing against him, and holding onto him like she desperately needed what he had to offer.

And he was willing to give it.

The glow knows how to work its magic

How to weave its spell......

The song ended, and she looked up at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "but you were meeting your friend, and you may have missed him."

"No matter," he said thickly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "I'll just look around for him."

But neither one of them moved, and he tentatively reached out to her blonde hair. "You know, earlier, you reminded me of someone...your eyes looked so familiar."

"Do they?"

"Yes....and they still do. I don't know why, but you-"

I'm your informant, I'm the one you want to talk to," she said, cutting him off and moving away from his body, and he inwardly groaned. "Dumbledore thought it best if I got here before you, that I could make sure we weren't followed or being watched. We were to look as if we had never met..just two strangers in a Muggle club." She smiled as she glanced downward. "And we won't speak of your conduct tonight to anyone." She pulled him to a corner table and took off the wig. "I can't stand that damn thing, but it serves its purpose."

He sat down, shocked at who sat before him, not quite sure what to do or say, but he was angry at himself for his conduct. "We will certainly not speak of what happened tonight, miss," he growled. "I will, however, apologize for my conduct, and assure you that I meant nothing of it-"

"Calm down, Severus," she said, a smile floating over her face. "It wasn't your fault, not entirely." She waved a hand around at the club. "The glow does strange things to even the most unyielding of people."

And how to bring

The burgundy mist

Over anyone