Author's Note: Hi there! Here's another Grimmauld Fairy Tale for you! (If you haven't read the others, that's okay. They're all independent! But still go read the others!) Honestly, it's been hard for me to have much motivation to write lately, and that made me sad. But I was venturing into the world of Regulus fics and got inspired. Maybe because it was new territory for me? But this demanded to be written and I jammed it out in under 24 hours. So please enjoy and leave some reviews!
Check out my after story author's note as well, for some feedback I'm asking for!
Hermione supposed it was her luck that the most unlikely of situations would happen to her. After all, she had been so preoccupied with making sure Harry and Ron were safe on the battlefield that she wasn't looking out for herself. It was too late when she realized five masked Death Eaters had surrounded her and sent a mixed bag of hexes and curses her way. There was a flash of a dazzling and disorienting color, Harry's far off cry of her name, and then blackness.
Considering the quality of life that she had been living the last nine months of her life, Hermione would later guiltily admit the blackness was a blessed relief.
/*\
Regulus let out a large sigh, shoulders sagging with the weight of his thoughts. Despite knowing the Dark Lord had left for the continent for a time, the fear and regret still saddled heavy on him. He warded the Floo closed, sent another to triple check on the front door of Grimmauld Place, and called for the one living being he could now trust.
"Kreacher!"
A snap echoed in the hallway and the old house elf looked up at his master. "Master Regulus has called for me?" He tucked the length of rope he was carrying behind his back, hoping for a new order.
"I'm going to need something strong in the library. Firewhiskey, brandy, don't really care….Why do you have rope?"
As if hoping he would be asked, Kreacher's eyes lit up and he answered eagerly. "There was an intruder in the noble home of the Blacks! Kreacher has tied the filthy thing up in the library where they infiltrated!"
"Someone broke into my house?!" Regulus was both fearful and angry. Who would dare break into his family home? Except a Death Eater, of course…."Take me to them."
/*\
Waking up with a throbbing head, Hermione groaned as she tried opening her eyes. She went to roll over, to grab for her head, but found herself paralyzed. Or, more specifically, petrified. Whoever had done this to her had been gracious enough to allow her the movement of her head, but nothing else. The memories of the last few moments rushed into her mind and she gasped.
"Harry! Harry?"
"I'm afraid this Harry cannot help you where you are at."
The voice was low, coming from behind her where she couldn't see. The room itself was dark, only the light of the fireplace breaking the solid shade of black. Hermione saw she was laying on her side, a plush carpet separating her from what she assumed was wood. Her first thought was that she was back in the Malfoy Manor, but then she remembered everyone who fought for Voldemort and for the Light was at Hogwarts.
"I will only ask my questions so many times before I become displeased. How did you come to be in my home? Who do you work for? Who are you?"
The voice, definitely male, was low and while not openly hostile, brooked no room for disobedience. Hermione could sense the promise of repercussions in his tone, but there was something she couldn't quite identify; her mind was racing far too fast to take the time and analyze it all. Her fight or flight instinct was starting to take hold, but the one thing she knew was that she would give nothing away.
"I don't understand," she croaked. Her throat, the more she talked, felt like it was scorched with fire. "I don't know where I am, I don't work for anyone. And I'm just no one!"
The man didn't like the answer, the disappointment ringing in his reply. "Not good enough. I simply cannot believe someone would come to my house, breaking dozens of wards, and have the nerve to say they don't know where they are at."
Suddenly, a hand came from the darkness and grabbed Hermione's chin, roughly jerking her head, and body, to face him. He was still deep into the shadows, but she could make out the line of an aristocratic nose and the gleam of grey eyes. The face was devoid of any emotion other than curiosity. He searched her eyes for what seemed like an unmeasurable amount of minutes.
"I will allow you one tidbit, woman. This is the most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Now," he released her chin. "Who are you and who do you work for? Your life may depend on your answers. I'm a patient man, but time is still of the essence."
Hermione could do nothing but gape like a fish. Whiskey eyes wide, her mind slowed enough to take the puzzle pieces handed to her. The House of Black. That vile Kreacher mumbling about serving his Master, and the man in front of her, much younger than she ever knew Sirius to be. The answer added up, but it was like being told she, Hermione Granger, was pregnant. Impossible, improbable, and illogical.
"You...You're Regulus Black!"
The grey eyes narrowed slightly, and the man stepped closer to the light. Hermione could see his whole upper half now; the regal nose, intelligent grey eyes piercing her, strong jawline, and hair blacker than a raven's wing grown just a few inches short of his shoulders. This man, boy, really, he couldn't have been older than nineteen, was impossible.
"Why are you so surprised? You're the one who broke into my home."
"You're d-." Hermione's mouth ceased to form words, an invisible leash keeping her back from saying anything else of the sort.
Unhappy with her words, Regulus ceased the trifle scare tactic and waved his hand, bringing back the light in the room. Once more, the room was well-lit, warm, and gave the illusion of comfort in the drafty walls of Grimmauld Place. He glanced down at the woman, thinking on what to do with her.
"You're younger than I thought. Are you still in Hogwarts?"
Hermione was speechless at his conversational tone. This man was a (defected) Death Eater, raised to believe his family was above all others, and Slytherin to boot. For all his tone sounded, he could have been asking about directions to Platform 9 ¾.
"No, no I'm not."
Regulus sighed and squatted down to look Hermione in the eyes. "You're no Death Eater, you've got to be one of Dumbledore's. You've come on a fool's errand, if he sent you. There's nothing here and the Dark Lord has gone to Albania."
"Why would you tell me this?" Hermione shook her head incredulously.
"So you feel safe?" He shrugged and pulled out two wands. "Obviously, I took your wand. I think I'll be keeping it for now. Vinewood makes a lovely wand..."
"Just let me go. Obliviate me. Send me out on my way and no one has to be any wiser." Hermione hoped to talk sense into him, that he wasn't like his cousin Bellatrix.
Regulus sighed once more. He was really making a habit of it today, he thought. Perhaps it was a good idea to go straight to bed after this nonsense. "I think not. I have a spell that will work nicely for the both of us, more so me, but there you have it. Once I have my answers, then we can talk about letting you go." He stood, singling out his own wand from the pair he held, and pointed the conduit at the still petrified Hermione.
"Mea fiet," he muttered, moving the wand into an arcing figure-eight.
Hermione willed her body to move, but the body bind was too solid and she was directly in the path of the golden jet of light.
The only change Hermione felt in herself was the hold of the petrification gone, and her muscles blissfully stretching out and loosening. Glancing up at Regulus, she saw that he was throwing back the remnants of an amber liquid at the side table, waiting for her to stand and finish her bewildered stretching.
"What did you do to me?" Standing, she brushed off her jumper and jeans, wincing at how they were covered in blood and dirt.
Giving her his attention once more, Regulus' lips gave a small smirk. "Mea fiet, or Thy Will, is a useful, legal, spell. Unfortunate that it's been all but forgotten except to those with extensive libraries. One could consider it a liberal form of the Imperius, in simplest and less than eloquent terms."
Hermione blanched. "Can you control me?"
"It's late. I'll show you to a room for the night." The man ignored Hermione, who glared at his retreating form. He opened the library doors and beckoned her forward. He waited patiently, knowing her unanswered question was figuratively eating her alive.
Bet she was a bloody Gryffindor. Can read them all like a primary book.
"You can come now, or I can start showing you what that spell can do, Miss." His voice turned hard like a diamond, his eyes changed to a shade darker. Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine and her legs, almost of their own accord, walked to the door and met his waiting arm, linking her own.
"What have you done to me?" Her voice held strong, almost accusatory, but Hermione wanted to cry out in frustration. But she knew that whatever happened to her before she was knocked out, it had sent her to a viper den and there was nowhere to run yet.
"Nothing that you won't enjoy if you just behave yourself. I don't have to exercise use of the spell if you just answer some questions and leave me be." His hand over hers squeezed gently, contrasting his hard voice.
After an awkward silence up the long stairs, he brought her to a closed door. This door was familiar to her, as it was the room the twins both slept in years leading up to the height of the war. This was where they'd show her and Ginny the Extendable Ears and the shielding hats and skiving snackbox improvements. She hoped they were both fairing okay at Hogwarts.
"Please sleep here. You'll find a washroom attached. This floor is usually reserved for the family, so I hope you enjoy the accommodations." His voice only carried a touch of mocking tone. "My room is there," he pointed to the next room on the left. "Should you need something. I'm afraid Kreacher will have nothing to do with anyone but me. We will discuss more in the morning over breakfast."
He opened the bedroom door and a little less than gently shove Hermione into her new room. Dark wood, dark green decor, and a slightly musty air that Regulus noticed and immediately charmed away. He watched her with her lack of subtly as she checked the room out, and he wanted to snappishly ask her if the room was to her liking. Instead, he summoned the breeding that had been beat into him and acted like a gentleman.
"Anything else I can do before I leave you, Miss?" Some sarcasm still leaked out. He sighed internally.
The chit had the audacity to actually ask for something. "Perhaps a headache potion or something comparable? My head's splitting from however I got here." She didn't face him as she asked, which was either stupid or brave, he couldn't decide. Silently, he summoned a bottle and tossed it to her when she turned at the whoosh of air.
Deciding he was done with her, he went to leave, but heard her ask one more thing. "What was that?"
"What is the date?"
Regulus shook his head. "What kind of question is that?"
"Please?"
"August 22, 1979."
She gasped, but he ignored her and shut the door with a snap.
The woman was utterly annoying. He was beginning to think she'd Apparated on accident and splinched part of her brain in the process. One last sigh escaped his lips and Regulus stalked to his own door, immediately feeling less tense as he approached his own bed. He fully intended on sleeping hard and peacefully for the first time in months. If he could just get the woman off his mind.
/*\
Hermione Granger was at a complete and utter loss for what to do.
Between the five hexes and curses sent her way, her immediate memory couldn't discern between them. It would take time for her body and mind to calm down from the after effects of the incident, and to unlock the memories that were hidden from her. She only really remembered fighting at Hogwarts, protecting her friends, and then being surrounded.
The biggest effect of the haphazard attempt on her life was obviously the apparent time travel that had catapulted her almost twenty years prior. Into the house of the Blacks, with an actual Black currently residing. The only thing worse would probably to have landed right at the younger Voldemort's feet giftwrapped in a red ribbon and bow. Of all the facts she currently knew, there was something that was teasing just past her memory, something important to the situation that poked at her mind.
So Hermione spent the first hour of her morning, just after sunrise, in the bed provided to her, thinking. And waiting. Waiting and thinking. Just what is the proper etiquette on how to behave in an enemy house, where they treat you like an actual guest, but cast a control-spell on you? she thought to herself.
Never one to wait for someone to tell her what to do, Hermione decided to take action and act like the guest she was being treated as. She was excited for her first bath in months, not just quick showers or scourgify to keep from stinking.
As she lathered up, a thought came to her. She hoped there were clean clothes in the room, but she could always transfigure towels and look for some in the….
"Bloody hell, my wand!"
/*\
An embarrassed Hermione found herself dripping wet, clad in only a towel and knocking on Regulus' door an hour later, after much contemplating. He'd laughed for hours afterward, transfiguring some of his own clothes for her to suit her needs. Their lives together found the two of them usually in the same room, kitchen, dining room, or the library. Very rarely did Regulus let her out of his sight. Though, he did allow her free reign of the library.
Two days had passed before Hermione told him her name.
"Hermione? As in Shakespeare?" He seemed taken aback to hear such an uncommon name.
"Yes. But how do you know of him? He's Muggle."
Regulus eyed her speculatively. "Actually, his mother was a witch. A fourth daughter of the Longbottoms and, though not blasted off their family tree, she wasn't really welcome in most of Pureblood society after that. He was a half-blood."
"You lie."
"I have the books to prove the lineage." Regulus raised a brow, meeting her challenge.
Eight days had passed before she told him what he had already guessed: that while she hadn't been sent by anyone, she was on the Light side.
"But you look like you're barely out of Hogwarts. Is Dumbledore so hard up for proper witches and wizards that he recruits children?"
"I could say the same for your Dark Lord. You were, what, sixteen when you took the mark?" she snarled at him. "It's war. Nothing makes sense, there are no rules of combat. Survive, protect what you can. That's the rule."
Regulus nodded, agreeing.
Day nine came and found Hermione stir crazy, pacing the floors of old Grimmauld Place. She was in such a state that Regulus refused to transfigure her clean clothes, which left her pacing in an oversized button up, stopping short an inch or two above her knees. She snapped at everything he said to her, refusing food and drink, mumbling about hex combinations. By dinner, Regulus was sick of her nonsense and invoked his charm for the first time since he'd applied pressure for her to join him at the library door.
"Hermione, come here!"
Face full of petulance, Hermione stood in front of the frowning Black, arms crossed. "What?"
"I've had enough of your shite for today. I think you've taken my kindness too far with your insults all day."
Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. "What else is there to do in this dark hole? I'm not the type to stroke your ego twelve hours a day like some simpering society woman. I need something to do!"
"There's a thought."
She fumbled, his response nothing what she thought it'd be. "Wait, what?"
"Stroking my ego. Shame I don't like the idea of forcing myself on a woman." Regulus' comment was dry, and he paused to sip his drink. "Do you realize, if you had fallen into anyone else's home, you'd be tied up and a toy for Death Eaters?"
Face white as a sheet, Hermione stopped to consider his words. "Probably, yes."
"Yes, indeed. Now, that indeed is a way to fix that energy problem you seem to have. I can make it happen with Thy Will, but the question is, are you willing?"
"Willing…" Her voice echoed his, though the doubt was clear.
The topic faltered and died out for the night. Hermione settled down on the couch for the first time since dawn.
On day eleven, Regulus brought the topic up once more over tea.
"I assume you know of the Brothers Grimm?"
Hermione sputtered into her tea cup, murmuring a thanks as Regulus rolled us eyes and vanished her mess. "Yes, fairytales."
Regulus grinned. "Have you heard of The Wolf and The Fox?" When she shook her head a negative, he gave her a short version. "Essentially, there is a wolf and a fox who are associates due to circumstance. The fox is, not owned, but owes the wolf his life because the wolf is bigger and stronger. In exchange for this and further protection, the fox goes and fulfills requests of the wolf in gratitude."
Hermione waited, expecting more. It felt too simple to be a Grimm fairytale. "That's it?"
He grinned and sipped his tea. "Yes."
"What you're proposing…"
"We can be the wolf and the fox. I keep you safe from the big bad world at large, from my hopefully former Master, feed and clothe you. You do as I ask. Though, you would absolutely have the ability to say no. As I said, I have no taste for the unwilling."
Pausing to think, Hermione stared at the half eaten remnants of her sandwich. It seemed Regulus was content to drink his tea that he was pretending wasn't laced with Firewhiskey. (Hermione had the unfortunate habit of comparing him to Sirius whenever he did that.)
"So how does this work?"
/*\
Regulus lead her back to the library. It was always the library. "So we're both comfortable."
"I can use the Thy Will at my leisure, at any point you may say no and refuse me. Though I would like reasons as to why if you do. Consent is important to me, Hermione. I may be branded a Death Eater, but I don't enjoy their mindless animalistic behavior."
Letting out a breath, Hermione tried to kill the blush rising in her cheeks. "I don't know if I like the idea of you taking away my will."
Tsking, he elaborated. "Don't think of it taking away your will. In this case, it's more introducing my suggestions to your mind and building upon any that already exist in yours."
He sat on the couch and pulled her down to sit next to him. His hands took both of hers and encased them easily, holding them loosely. He looked deep into her eyes. "There is another translation of the spell, other than Thy Will. Obviously translating it from the raw Latin, it means my pleasure. With the right people, it can be used pleasurably. It was also used as an old spell for newly married couples who were arranged hundreds of years ago. You can't tell me you haven't been looking at me with doe eyes at some point."
Hermione flushed and slapped at his chest. "I have not!"
They laughed together softly.
Regulus waited for her to make the first move. He called out to the spell, but pressed his Will ever so slightly.
"Thy will be done…" Hermione muttered, leaning forward after a moment and brushing her lips against. When he didn't react like she expected, she did it again, firmer, opening her lips slightly.
Regulus couldn't help but grin into the kiss before responding. She was so cheeky.
His hands went up, one cupping her cheek and the other tangling itself within the curls of her hair. He pressed his lips on hers, forcing them to open further. His tongue darted out and taste her lips, and he was eager for more when he heard her small mewl of approval. Hermione mimicked his action, which caused him to grip her hair tighter. They continued for a few minutes before Hermione broke away suddenly with a growl.
"Hermione?"
Taking the situation in her own hands, Hermione shifted from being by Regulus' side to straddling his lap, intend on a better position. "Less talk, Regulus." Her lips trailed up the column of his throat, suckling intermittantly on his soft flesh. His hands migrated in the new position to Hermione's hips, gripping and squeezing them in pleasure.
Eventually, after leaving a trail of marks along his neck, Hermione crashed her lips back on his, encouraging a battle for dominance between lips, teeth and tongues. Rocking her hips in need, Hermione put her whole being into this moment. Into being with Regulus. Likewise, Regulus found his hips rocking upward so slightly, meeting Hermione's efforts, as his hands snaked their way into her shirt and kneaded her breasts.
They broke apart, both desperate for breath. Their hips slowed, but the need was still apparent for both of them. Surprisingly, it was Regulus who had the forethought to stop. "Enough, Hermione."
Hermione frowned and he could sense the question on her tongue.
"As much as I want to continue, I don't relish keeping this going in the library. Perhaps tomorrow." He helped her stand, straightened her shirt, and kissed her chastely. "Let's retire for the night. I'm pretty sure, in the few number of days that I've known you, that you will have more questions in the morning, and it might be best to do those questions first anyway."
As it happened, the chance for questions never happened first.
Regulus had been in the shower, trying to rub off the rest of the dream he'd been having upon waking that morning. Without a thought to what it meant, he willed Hermione to be helping him with his problem, wishing it were her lips and not his hand. More surprising than seeing a naked Hermione enter his shower out of the blue moments later was the fact that she was eager to be on her knees, licking and sucking on his member.
Her hooded eyes looked up at him as she slowly took in his penis, her mouth greedily taking him in as she fondled his balls with one hand and played with one of her own breasts at the same time. Grasping her hair, Regulus guided her as she worked her mouth quicker, her clever tongue running along the ridges and the occasional hum vibrating through his cock. He tried to warn her when he was coming, but she stubbornly refused to give up her ministrations. Instead, she took as much of him as she could, the tip hitting her throat. Eyes wide, he realized what she was doing, and with another hum from her, he came undone, releasing his seed into her throat and groaning at the sensation. Her hands grabbed the base of his cock as he released, massaging him as she slowly took him from her mouth. Hermione swallowed almost everything, only the last drops escaping her mouth and landing on her lips. Before she could wipe it away, Regulus pulled her up and kissed her soundly, uncaring about his lingering essence in her mouth.
"Wait!"
"No!" he growled when she tried to pull away. He plowed her mouth with his tongue, drawing out all the passion that he could from her. She gave him everything she could, pulling his body impossibly close.
Hating the angle of the shower, Regulus picked Hermione up off the ground and carried her to his bed, throwing her softly to the rumpled sheets. She was a sight to see; curls dark from the water, face flushed and lips swollen from their kissing, chest heaving and nipples stiff, her legs with slightly spread, her bare center clearly slick and waiting for him. Ready for the feast laid out in front of him, Regulus climbed on the bed and sampled the first of what would be many treats for him.
Hermione moaned in pleasure when Regulus took a nipple into his mouth, his lips sucking greedily at her flesh. He hands wound themselves into his long, wet hair to hold him in place. His other hand focused on her other breast, playing with the mound and teasing her nipple. He bit down softly, sending a shudder throughout her body, gooseflesh rising along her body.
"You smell like honey, Hermione," he murmured, switching attentions to her other breast, sucking hard. "Do you taste like honey, too?"
Hermione was too delirious to respond, her voice mewling in pleasure and her back arching. Her breaths were short, her eyes screwed shut against the sensations running along her body. So when she felt his tongue along her slit, she nearly screamed in pleasure and surprise. Her eyes flashed open and she looked down to see him between her legs, his dark hair contrasting with her milky skin.
"Regulus?!"
He looked up, a wide grin on his lips. "Yes?"
"What do you think you're doing?"
His eyes traveled down to look at what was laid out before him. "Well, since I don't think we'll be leaving bed anytime soon, having breakfast. I want to know if you taste like honey."
Switching his eyes to watch Hermione's, he licked along her lips, lightly sucking on her clit occasionally. When he built her up enough, her eyes screwed up tightly and he was able to focus his whole attention at the gift in front of him. Between his tongue and fingers, he sent her over the edge twice before she demanded he join her back up on the bed with her.
Kissing languidly, the two twined together sleepily.
"Do I taste how you wanted?" Hermione whispered, eyes still closed.
"Better." Regulus looked down at the woman in his bed, content for the first time in years.
/*\
At one point later in the day, Regulus and Hermione did have the further discussion about the spell.
"Do you understand how the spell can work both ways?"
Hermione stopped stirring her tea and looked over at the Black heir. "Not really. This area isn't necessarily my expertise."
Regulus took in her rumpled figure; his shirt thrown on, almost to her knees once more. And nothing else. He had the matching pants on. "If I Will a pleasurable experience, encouraged by the events unfolding, it can create lust, which fuels me to reciprocate. It's almost like an unending circle of pleasure if invoked."
Later, Regulus had business to do in Diagon Alley. He left Hermione for the first time in twelve days, leaving them both desperate by the time he came home four hours later. She was naked, sitting on the desk in the library waiting for him. He vanished his clothes and took her across the top, trinkets, paperweights, and books thrown to the ground. Somehow, it still wasn't enough and despite the three orgasms he'd given her, he was desperate for more. More of her.
"So greedy," groaned Hermione as he sank his cock into her heat from behind. "You're a regular glutton, Mr Black." Her hands gripped the edges of the desk and he thrust into her with abandon.
"Need you. I need you so much," he grunted. His hand ran along the smooth skin of her back until the fingers were able to reach around and manipulate her clit. Circling the button, he felt her body shiver, pressing down he could feel her walls convulse, when he pinched it, her cry was like a signal and they crashed together. His hips pistoned into hers, her walls milking him relentlessly, and his teeth marking her neck as his.
Three weeks after Hermione's arrival, Regulus told her of his history as a Death Eater, his plan to defect, and what he wanted to do to bring Voldemort down. His mother had taken him to the Malfoy Manor at sixteen, where he was surprised to see the robed men waiting. He was initiated after several agonizing hours and he left feeling like he'd left a piece of himself behind. The longer he was in the ranks, the sicker he felt and the more he realized that the blood supremacy his mother spoon fed him was utter bullshite. He knew Voldemort had made at least one horcrux. He knew where it was because the Dark Lord had used Kreacher to help him. He just had to figure out a way to trick the man so that he could destroy it. He wished he could go to Dumbledore or someone from the Order of the Phoenix, but leaving the Death Eaters was not an option unless you were dead. Nor did he believe any of them would believe him anyway.
Hermione was tucked against his side, holding his hand as he spoke. He needed the human contact and she was more than happy to oblige. She said no words during his stories, but let him speak. What could she say? She couldn't necessarily tell him it would all work out in the end for him. She was from 1998, after all. She couldn't risk changing the timeline too much.
It was during their talk that Hermione realized what had been bothering her since the night she'd arrived. 1979 was the year Regulus Black died at the hands of Inferi, successfully swapping out locket horcruxes. And, if she'd been paying attention to the calendar, it was just over a week before Hermione Granger was born. Not sure what that meant for herself, if anything at all, she decided to be guarded when the day came, ready for whatever might happen.
Twenty-two days in, Hermione finally told him what had been happening that sent her to his house. "I was fighting with two friends and a group of Death Eaters. I wasn't paying attention, trying to guard my friends more than myself. Five of those bastards came up and tried blasting me at once. There's no telling what curses they used. I remember a purple, a lime colored, maybe a red? They blasted me here. I landed in the library and that's when Kreacher found me and bound me until you arrived."
Twenty-three days in, they learned all of each other's favorites.
Hermione loved the colors red and gold (so Gryffindor), curry, authentic Italian, reading, treasured books, cared about equal rights for creatures like elves and goblins, her favorite season was spring, and she had a soft spot for cats.
Regulus didn't mind gold, but prefered green, loved a good Firewhiskey, books, Quidditch (he was a pretty good Seeker, if he did say so himself), autumn, didn't actually didn't believe in blood supremacy, hated his cousin Bellatrix and missed Sirius terribly.
Day twenty-four, Regulus left the house again, long before Hermione woke up. The sheets where he'd lain were cold when she rolled over over and reached for him, which made her sit upright in bed.
"Regulus?" she called out.
The house answered her call with the creaking and settling frames.
Hermione didn't take it personal, Regulus was the heir of the Blacks and she could hardly expect him to spend weeks at a time in his home, never leaving. So she spent her day in the kitchen, trying her hand at baking and cooking. She'd never really had too much opportunity to do either, having always been around her parents or Mrs. Weasley since coming into the magical world. Midday passed and, as she cleaned up her mess, she briefly wondered where Kreacher was. The old elf hadn't come into the kitchen once to shoo her out or make disparaging remarks about her blood status, which was a rare day in Grimmauld.
Early in the beginning of her stay with Regulus, Hermione had shown him the carved words on her arm and told him that she was indeed a Muggleborn witch. He followed her announcement by telling her how he'd come to realize everything he'd been taught was a lie. Watching Muggles and so-called blood traitors scream in pain, their blood as red as one another. There had been no difference. When he asked her who had been barbaric enough to do it to her, she'd refused to answer at first. It was only after a solemn promise that he would say nothing and do nothing that she told him it had been Bellatrix.
His eyes had gone dark, his mouth set in thin line, and we was silent for a few hours. They read the rest of the night and ate dinner in silence. The first time after that Kreacher had called her a Mudblood, he'd been knocked upside the head just the once and told to never call her that again. Hermione had been shocked at the display of abuse, once more reminded of Sirius.
The hours passed and Regulus still didn't come home and Kreacher was missing. Hermione began to worry that perhaps Voldemort had summoned him, or worse, that he'd tried to replace the horcrux and had died. She knew it was bound to happen, yet somewhere inside her, she had grown attached and hoped there was a different way. Eventually, she realized he may not be coming home, so she ate a light dinner, put away her baking from the day, and went to bed. To his bed.
Late into the night, Hermione was woken up by something sliding into the bed next to her. Turning over and casting a weak wandless lumos, Hermione could see it was a haggard looking Regulus, stripped of his clothes and his shoulders slumped. He said nothing, but slid under the sheets and pulled Hermione closer, burying his face into her neck.
"Regulus?" she whispered.
He stayed silent, nuzzling his nose against the skin of her neck and squeezed her as if he wanted to meld into her and become one. It reminded her of him trying to leave his skin behind, to be someone else anywhere else.
After just letting him hold her close, he eventually whispered, "I just need you, Hermione. Please stay?"
Swallowing hard, Hermione ran her hands through his hair. Kissing his forehead, she whispered back, "Such a greedy man."
/*\
"YOU DID WHAT?!"
Hermione couldn't say she was surprised. She knew. She knew he'd do it, to go the cave full of Inferi and replace the locket with a fake. She wasn't surprised that he'd done it, she was surprised that he did it and survived. He wasn't supposed to have survived it, but here he was, standing in front of her casually throwing back bourbon.
"I've defied the Dark Lord, stolen the locket with his soul in it. I want your help in destroying it."
"Are you crazy?!"
"I'm a Black," he quipped, grinning.
/*\
It took three days for him to convince her to help him destroy it.
Hermione was at a loss with how bungled the future timeline seemed to be and despite some rough arithmancy formulas and equations, she couldn't figure an answer to what was happening and what would happen if she helped.
So they took it down to the basement, cast a strong Protego, and set a blazing Fiendfyre to the damned object. Between the two of them, they were able to easily control the blaze, ending it when the high pitched wailing and dark haze disappeared.
Regulus saw Hermione leaving him, "A Death Eater is nothing but the scum in the gutter. Why would I bother with you when I could have anyone?"
Hermione saw Regulus helping Bellatrix torture Muggle children before belittling her for her 'mud blood'. "Nothing but a warm hole to pass the time," he'd spat.
They held each other and sobbed, clawing at one another to get impossibly close. Their lovemaking was slow, full of hands and lips and breath.
/*\
The next day, Hermione realized was her birthday. Not just her turning nineteen, but the day a baby named Hermione Granger was born. She felt odd about this knowledge and avoided Regulus most of the day, hiding in her room and claiming she was ill. She didn't know how to reconcile the knowledge that she didn't really exist in this timeline and hoped to Merlin and Nimue that she wasn't altering her existence by being in one timeline twice.
When she didn't come to bed, Regulus felt his temper flare and he barged in to her old room. He found her sitting at the windowsill, staring out at the streets of London. She didn't really acknowledge his thundering presence, except to sigh.
"Hermione, come here."
She whipped her head around and glared at him, yet followed his order. Wordlessly, she stood in front of him and looked up to him, unafraid to meet his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
She said nothing.
"Have I done something?"
"I was born today."
Regulus looked bewildered. "Today was your birthday? Why didn't you say something? Did you expect me to know, because I didn't…"
Hermione smiled small. "No, Regulus. Well, yes, it was my birthday. But there was a baby named Hermione Granger born today. I was born today."
He was speechless, she could tell his mind was piecing things together. His eyes narrowed and he whispered, "Who are you? You never answered me that."
"I am Hermione Granger." She looked down at her hands, wringing themselves together. "I'm a Muggleborn witch and I was sent here by Death Eaters during a battle at Hogwarts, where Voldemort was present. In 1998."
"Why did you stay?" The only way Hermione could tell he was upset was the furrow in his brow.
"I…I like you very much, Regulus. I don't know how to go home, anyway. But if I did, I think I would still have stayed."
Regulus walked away from her and sat on the edge of her bed, his head in hand. "You are a confusing woman."
"Think you're confused?" Hermione chuckled darkly. She followed Regulus and took both of his hands in hers. "I don't know how long I can stay. But I will stay, if you'll have me."
Looking up at the small, confident woman standing in front of him, Regulus' face was completely serious.
"I will always have you, Hermione."
Drawing his face close to hers, his eyes searched for something and, after what she assumed was not being found wanting, he pressed his lips on hers with the utmost gentleness. Their resulting kiss was languid, strong and heady with feeling.
/*\
"More, Regulus! Harder!"
Hermione moaned loud, gripping the sheets around her as he picked up his pace. Grunting, he shifted and grabbed the headboard for leverage. From his position, he thoroughly enjoyed his view of her heaving breasts. Reaching down, he pinched a rosy bud, feeling himself get impossibly harder at the noises escaping her mouth. The next noise out of her was that of disappointment, as he pulled his length from her heat.
"What…?" She was ready to yell, angry at the loss of friction, but stopped when she saw he was changing their positions.
"Ride me, witch."
Needing no further instruction, Hermione straddled his hips and sank eagerly onto his cock. They both moaned at the contact. As soon as she began to rock herself on him, he latched onto one of her breasts, suckling eagerly on the soft flesh. The velvet suction of her walls on his straining member had him panting and he was unsure of how much longer he would last.
Gripping her hips, he slammed her harder on him and snaked two fingers to her clit, teasing and pinching. Her scream of release came quickly, her body shuddering and tensing above him. He took this and pushed her back, switching their positions once more, pushing himself several times until stars exploded in his eyes and he collapsed on top of Hermione. After dragging a sheet over both their quickly cooling, sweating bodies, they exchanged some kisses and dozed lightly.
Waking suddenly an unmeasurable amount of time later, Hermione shot up in bed. There was movement downstairs in Grimmauld Place.
"Regulus!" Hermione hissed, shaking him roughly. "Wake up! Who would be coming here?" She hit him sharply on the chest, causing him to groan.
"What the devil are you on about?" He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. A door slamming made his body tense, and he reached for his wand on the bedside table.
"That! Someone is here!" Hermione went to reach for her clothes, listening to Regulus mutter as he pulled on his pants.
"Stay here. I need to go and curse whoever thinks they can come into my home uninvited."
"Give me my wand! I can help!"
Regulus paused for a moment, deciding. "In the drawer. Let's go, but stay behind me. If it's a Death Eater, I'll have to kill them."
It was indeed Death Eaters. They hadn't bothered to hide their faces behind masks. Hermione recognized Rowle and Mulciber, even Rabastan Lestrange. The other two she only had a vague sense of recognition. There were spells, hexes flying everywhere and at one point, Hermione was back to back with Regulus, deflecting the jets set at her.
"Hermione, go!" Regulus hissed. "I'll finish with these fools."
"No, we need to retreat! Let's go to the Floo."
He growled, but conceded to her idea. "Go first, I'll follow."
They went on the defensive, heading to the Floo of Grimmauld. At one point, Regulus had been engaged with Rabastan, so Hermione, when her back was turned, didn't know there were five spells coming her way.
"NOOO!"
Hermione screamed in pain and soon thereafter, blacked out.
/*\
"Pick her up, we've got to move!"
"Is she…?"
"No, she's breathing. Let's go while we have the chance."
"Who the hell is with her?"
"LET'S GO!"
Hermione groaned, her body aching. "Would you all shut up?"
"Yeah, she's fine. Come on."
Hermione felt someone pick her up and cradle her close, jostling her as they walked. Behind her, she heard what sounded like Harry levitate another person.
In the Great Hall, she finally opened her eyes, recognizing the familiar structure and the people standing above her. Harry and Ron looked down at her, brows furrowed, but relieved smiles slowly growing. They descended on her at once, hugging her tightly.
"What happened? You were gone for about half an hour but you weren't anywhere near!" Ron helped her sit up as he questioned her.
"And who is that?" Harry pointed a few feet away where a body laid, still passed out but breathing evenly.
"Oh my god, Regulus!"
"WHO?" Both boys looked at her incredulously.
Ignoring their shouts of surprise, Hermione crawled over to his prone body and did a diagnostic spell with her wand. He sighed in relief when it checked out, he was just unconscious.
"Hermione, there's a lot happening right now, you can tell us later. But if that's Regulus Black, all I need for you to tell us if he is on our side." Harry pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose a little, concerned.
Looking at her two best friends, she nodded. "Regulus will help us. I swear it."
/*\
After the battle, when everyone was gathered once more in the Great Hall, Hermione stood with Regulus and Harry, watching the people they knew grieve for their losses and heal what they could in wounds. Seeking comfort, both of her hands searched for theirs and she found the grounding she needed in the two most important people she had in her life. Ron, another important person in her life, was busy holding his mother close as she cried over the loss of her son Fred. Ron's main priority would always be the Weasleys, and that was okay.
Harry squeezed her hand and stepped away. "I'm going to go find Luna." He smiled softly, nodded to Regulus, and walked away.
"I never imagined the fighting would go on for so long." Regulus looked at the casualties of war with sadness.
"It did. But, we knew what we were fighting for."
"Who we were fighting for?"
"You going to be okay?"
"You mean the time travel thing?" Regulus grinned, but looked dubious. "Yeah, probably. Once things settle down, there's going to be a lot of legal trouble."
Hermione gave a small chuckle. "One step at a time."
"Let's go help the Mediwitches?" he asked, tilting his head to Madame Pomfrey.
"Thy will be done."
Author's Note:
Okay, so here's part of why I have had a hard time writing these stories. In my last one, a few people thought I'd rushed the plot, or had none at all, glossing over character development or the fairy tale itself. What I don't think some people realize is (if they haven't read all that I've posted for this series), that each one has a different style and no one story of this series flows exactly the same. I went with a little more fairy tale in some and more modern in others. The stories aren't meant to be multichapter epic reads. They're in essence one shots. If I planned on making them longer, I could develop relationships and plots more, but I only have so much before they aren't considered one shots anymore. That being said, I'm setting up a new poll in my profile to see what you all think. You can tell me what styles you prefer in the poll or in reviews.
It actually made me a little sad to read such negativity in reviews and PMs. I'm all about constructive comments, but...yeah. /deep breath.
In other news, I recommend some stories for everyone to read: "The Green Girl" by Colubrina and "Presque Toujours Pur" by ShayaLonnie.