Page 26 of Cruel Games

“Except Hermione and Harry didn’t party overnight in Hogsmeade.”

I puffed out my chest. “I’m Hermione?”

“More like a female Draco.” He grinned. “I’m Blaise Zabini, of course.”

“Of course.” I looped my arm around his, and we ducked into Victoria’s Secret. The scent of vanilla perfume filled my senses, making me sigh.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

I eyed a lacy, pink thong. “Getting something to wear underneath my new dress.”

“Great idea.” Gideon turned to a set of crimson underwear.

We spent nearly an hour browsing and sniffing perfume samples. After choosing our items, I paid with my share of the fireplace stash.

Afterward, we wandered into the Royal Exchange, which combined Roman-style buildings with upmarket stores, cafes, and restaurants.

I clutched my Victoria’s Secret bags, trying not to be tempted by the displays of gorgeous clothes and accessories.

In the end, I only spent a few hundred pounds in cash. My credit card burned a hole in my pocket, but I didn’t dare use it in case Sammy read the statement and discovered I was in Scotland.

The Clyde Hotel was located close to Queen Street Station. It wasn’t as dingy as I had imagined, and there was plenty of space in the bathroom for me to fix Gideon’s makeup and to style his straightened hair with curling tongs. After we finished dressing, I positioned him in front of the full-length mirror.

He turned around. “The ruffles you added to the bust makes me look almost convincing.”

“Until you open your mouth.” I applied a layer of purple mascara to make the blue in my eyes pop.

Gideon chuckled. “Let’s arrive early and get something to eat on the balcony.”

We walked arm-in-arm through the lamp-lit, city streets, each holding bags containing a mix of shopping and a change of clothes. Gideon led me to a row of Victorian buildings where people dressed in clubbing gear bustled out of the back streets and taxis.

“How many clubs are on this road?” I asked.

“Just one.”

Music boomed from a cathedral-looking structure guarded by huge doormen, and a line of over a hundred people stretched out around the corner.

My brows rose. People seldom needed to queue for very long at the Velvet Lounge. I supposed this was the effect of a city center and a once-a-month night.

We continued to the end of the line, passing girls locked in passionate kisses, and single-sex groups. Occasionally, I would spot a heterosexual couple, but they appeared to be in the minority.

“You weren’t joking when you said the club was metrosexual,” I whispered.

“Are you nervous?” he whispered back as we rounded the corner.

“More like excited to see what it’s going to be like inside.”

We passed a drag queen dressed in a Lady Gaga-style meat dress. Instead of strips of steak, the queen wore cut bits of foam, colored to look like beef jerky. Behind him were a pair of trendy-looking heterosexual couples, the first wearing black leather, and the second red rubber.

I glanced down at my cut-out dress, feeling a little underdressed, but I shook off that feeling. This was my first night out in ages, and I would be happy to be here wearing a sack.

We lined up behind two tall guys who reminded me of the Deloraine twins, except one had colored his hair with silver hair wax and the other gold. They wore leather pants with tight T-shirts that highlighted their every delectable muscle.

The one with the silver hair turned to his friend and muttered something about the wait, giving us a glimpse of full lips and a handsome, Roman nose.

I gave Gideon a nudge and nodded at them. He grinned back and waggled his brows, confirming that he also liked sexy guys.

“What kind of music is there?” I asked.