Hermione had no idea how she found herself in this situation.
An Auror could find themselves assigned to any number of different cases. It even made sense that she would be the head on a case involving a Veela. It was simply much easier to send female Aurors to deal with one than hope a male could handle it.
A string of suspicious attacks had rocked a small town in Greece with their lurid details and scandal. A married official caught dead and naked in the middle of a public access villa.
A prominent Quidditch player was found in a compromising position with no partner. Word got out in such a small town.
Hermione had spent three lovely days in the wonderful weather and spent most of it questioning angry wives - and two mistresses.
She had enough visual notoriety to smooth over introductions, but that didn't always lend itself to honest answers. That's how she found herself on a lonely precipice, trying to follow a fellow young Auror up a craggy mountain's end.
He was new, eager, and didn't quite understand that being bait meant he was in mortal danger.
She did.
Even though she was supposed to stay out of sight, two sharp screams punctuated her resolve. Now, as she ran against wind and gravity, she wanted little more at the moment except a hot cup of tea and to not find his cooling corpse along this ground with its view of the ocean and strong scent of salt.
When she finally reached them, it almost seemed too late.
The Veela's pale skin gleamed in the moonlight as it hunched over the Auror, fierce bird-like face out and talons slashing at the vulnerable skin beneath his robes.
Bright red streaks smeared across his silently screaming face and beaded on the grass around them.
She shouted a scant warning as she ran up the steep incline, wand outheld.
The beautiful and terrifying face turned her way spurred Hermione's resolve.
She had not, however, prepared for her possibility for the Veela to leave its prey and launch itself at her.
A red Stunner missed the attacking creature, and suddenly Hermione was on the ground, grappling with the inhumanly gorgeous and deadly being.
It slashed her hands, but she held onto her wand and shoved it close to it's face.
"Sectumsempra!"
Some part of Hermione hated the automatic use of the Dark-not-Dark spell, but it had already cut her own arm wide open. And Hermione did not pull spells when it came to living or dying.
It was launched off of her, shrieking and writhing as its skin split open like a zipper. Its blood was just as bright red as her young partner.
Hermione held her wand steadily as she approached the creature, her own bleeding arm held tightly to her side.
It was twitching spasmodically as it gurgled its lifeblood in the unforgiving dirt.
She trained her wand on the dying being, a wave of dizziness sweeping over her. Her face, neck, and chest burned like fire, and she realized she was injured worse than she thought.
Duty dictated that she not only take care of the creature, but also to protect her partner.
After she cast one last spell, Corconfuto! at the shrieking Veela, everything tilted sideways and down Hermione went.
Her finger were tangled in silky locks. His mouth slaked its thirst on her bare skin, traveling from her neck to the aching pink peak of her left breast.
She cried out, cupping the head close as it suckled and nipped.
Clever fingers of his skimmed from her torso to between her thighs, dipping into the hot apex of her core. She cried out, arching her back and moving her hips against his hand.
All she could even think about was where he touched her, and gripping his head against her aching hot skin.
She moaned his name, the word leaving her lips with recognition, as he brought her so close to completion. His touch slipped away, and she nearly begged him to touch her again.
All that mattered right now was that he touch her again. All that mattered was that he fill her in ways that she could only dream about.
The bed was soft beneath her, and yet it could have been a splintered board for all she could get comfortable.
The white walls were painful at first to her stinging eyes, and she shielded them with a weak raise of one arm.
"Where am I?" her throat felt as dry as the morning after a night-long binge of firewhiskey. One eye focused, and she spotted red hair and a very freckled long nose.
"You're at St. Mungo's." Ron soothed, his sweaty hand touching hers.
At first she jerked back, but common sense rushed forward. She took a deep breath, opening both eyes. "What happened?"
"Auror Waters said you saved his life." He looked at her like she was a hero.
Perhaps to a shopkeeper she was, she thought ungraciously. It was unfair, Ron had been one of her best friends for many years, brief dating mistakes aside.
She tried to sit up, pain lancing through her chest and neck.
"Wait," he said quickly, "wait for the Healer. You're not healed all the way yet."
Hermione felt her neck almost immediately, as if a violent skirmish might show there first. She wasn't disappointed. Tender, raised scars along her neck could be felt even with the lightest touches.
She wanted to ask him why they hadn't closed up her wounds already.
However, a grizzled Healer entered the room within seconds. He smiled at Ron and came to Hermione's bedside. "You're awake."
"Obviously." She croaked, immediately hating the way her voice sounded.
He seemed to take it in stride, this older Healer with his gentle brown eyes. "Your partner was sure you'd been attacked by a Veela. Is that true?"
Hermione nodded slowly, another wave of exhaustion slipping over her. She was barely listening as the Healer explained her condition.
"Once there's an established link, it's impossible to break. A young person attacked by a werewolf might crave red meat, but you…":
He trailed off, and straightened his glasses. They added to his appearance, as did the gray at his temples. "Anyway, it will take a good deal of rest before you can return to work. "
"How long?" she croaked. It made her a little uneasy that she found the Healer - Head by the badge on his chest - even moderately attractive. It seemed like this was an inappropriate time.
"I can release you by tomorrow if the wounds don't open again, but I'm sending a recommendation that you, at the very least, stick to a desk job for two weeks."
Hermione grumbled. She was a good Auror, and she enjoyed her work far more than she suspected she would when she returned to Hogwarts for a short 'eighth year'.
"Yes, well, I'll let you rest." He turned an unexpectedly stern eye at Ron. "You have to let her be, no matter what she says."
With that strange statement he left, leaving her to sink into the fluffy pillows gratefully.
"What did he think I was about to do, shag you while you're half-dead?" Ron chuckled. "I'm not that hard-up."
"Thanks," she mumbled. They had broken up months after the war was over and come back around to friendship full circle, but it still stung her feminine sensibilities to be told a bloke would have to be mad to hit on her.
Ron sighed, patting her hand. "I meant you're barely able to sit up. Want me to let you get some rest?"
"No." But sleep was already claiming her again, and her head tilted to the side as she passed out.
"Malfoy is going to have a conniption." A familiar male voice split into her fuzzy consciousness.
"She got attacked! She shouldn't be in trouble." A woman responded, her voice seeming shrill and unwelcome at the moment.
Hermione opened her eyes and tilted her head up. Nothing hurt anymore, but she was being very ginger at first. One too many times had she gotten overconfident and ended up getting sick all over herself.
"You're awake!" Ginny said warmly, her voice still coming off as piercingly loud.
Hermione rubbed her temple as she sat up more. Ginny was nice enough to situate the pillows behind her quite efficiently.
Harry gave her his familiar lopsided grin, the kind he used when affectionately pleased. "I thought you were going to laze around for another day." His voice seemed unusually...deep? She could feel it warming her skin.
"How long have I been out?"
"You were brought in two days ago. I heard you were awake yesterday and talked with the Healer. I tried to get information from him first, but he wouldn't believe you were my sister."
Hermione laughed, wanting to reach out and feel his hand under hers. A strange thought. Perhaps she was feeling vulnerable from almost dying. "Did the Healer already send information to MLE? Oh, and it's Director Malfoy, you know."
Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "It's already all over the offices, that you're being benched for a month."
"The Healer said two weeks!" Hermione gasped, then took the glass of water Ginny offered.
"You know how gossip is. Anyway, they're taking bets on whether Malfoy will actually allow you to be a glorified paper-pusher or make you stay home. He hates giving us special privileges."
Hermione straightened the soft hospital gown, a bit breathless. Whatever they gave her must have induced a slight fever.
Malfoy and her had attended Auror training at the same time after eighth year, but his training took a year longer with all the psychological tests he was required to take.
One thing she could say about Malfoy, he had thoroughly turned around the supervisor's opinion of him. He was Head Auror by their third year, and Deputy Head of MLE by fifth year.
Their former Director had retired at age 43 to his place of birth, Edinburgh, in a bloody castle. That wasn't suspicious at all.
Then he turned around and said Harry was too green to become Head Auror, and appointed his favorite lackey, Malcolm Baddock.
Truly, Director Malfoy was an infuriating thorn in her side. She squirmed under the blanket, attributing her sudden heat to it, and anger of course.
"I'll just have to go down to the Ministry after I leave here." Hermione nodded certainly, absently reaching out to curl her fingers over Harry's.
She didn't notice until realizing how good she was feeling, and Harry's slightly awkward shift in his seat. "Sorry," she muttered, pulling her hand back and wondering what exactly was going on in her body today?
Author's Notes:
What indeed?! As noted in my AN of my other fic, this is going to feature not just one love interest, but two.
And there will be no pulling punches on who poor, poor Hermione is fighting her new urges against! Now I'm sure you're thinking, but Hanna, she won't succumb to anyone else, will she?
XD I promise nothing!
I will still be updating The Price You Pay just as regularly as you might hope on top of this, as well as finishing up my own book. What can I say, I'm dedicated to the craft! Anyway, hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave a note in the review jar!