A/N: Hope you like this one.
xx-Kitten.
Bend or Break
By Kittenshift17
CHAPTER TWO
Thorfinn was feeling pretty good about himself when the hot little redhead let him lead her into the alley. He'd never fucked a redhead, but he was about to alter that unfortunate fact.
"My place or yours?" he asked.
The girl glanced up at him, her eyes wide. She seemed like a skittish little thing, despite the way she'd been scratching at his Dark Mark. He'd never encountered another witch who'd done that. Most of them were too scared to touch it; too revolted by the vile magic contained within to even dare touch his left forearm, let alone the Dark Mark itself. It was curious, Thorfinn thought, that this skittish little witch who'd seemed so uninterested in him before he'd approached her could be brave enough to scratch at his mark hard enough to draw blood.
She'd dug her nails into it like she meant to claw the vile thing right from his flesh until it was nothing but a messy scar. He didn't know what to make of that.
"My place is just up the road," she offered quietly. Thorfinn smirked at her. She certainly wasn't drunk, and she didn't seem big on trying to fill his head with inane chatter. She also wasn't prone to brainless giggling – as so many witches tended to be in his presence.
He kind of liked that. Most of the witches he lured into bed with him were twits and got on his nerves. This one, he was thinking, was no twit. He'd be willing to bet she wasn't actually as skittish or as inexperienced as she seemed, either. He was betting that she'd be a firecracker, if he were to rile her up. Intent on finding out, Thorfinn pulled her closer to him. He ducked his head and nuzzled her cheek when she didn't actually lift her mouth to his.
"Lead the way, Princess," he murmured. He nipped her jaw lightly, his arm around her shoulders holding her to him snugly.
"You're going to make me forget the way if you keep doing that," she said. Thorfinn might've thought she wasn't into it, from the tonelessness of her voice as she spoke the words, but he could hear the ragged little gasp she drew into her lungs as they meandered up Knockturn Alley.
"What about if I do this?" he asked. Cupping his hand around her jaw, he turned her body in his hold and tilted her mouth up to receive his kiss.
Sweet Salazar's fucking serpent!
Heat blazed through him when his lips met hers, sweeping him into a frenzy of lips and tongues and teeth. She nipped his lower lip before snogging him hotly, her tongue sliding against his and making his cock spring to life inside his trousers. Fucking hell, he'd never snogged a witch with such immediate fire; such passion.
He didn't actually recall shoving her up against the wall of the alley. He didn't remember gripping her arse in both hands and hauling her up his body until her ankles locked against the small of his back and her arms were tight around his neck. Thorfinn felt like a man possessed as he snogged her, drowning in a scent that haunted his daydreams. He bucked his hips against the apex of her thighs, so hot and inviting against the front of his trousers.
One of her hands tangled into his loose long hair, the other shifting slightly around his neck and moving strangely before gripping his shoulder but Thorfinn was too caught up in the sweet taste of her lips - like the finest whiskey sweeping across his senses - to notice. Her scent permeated his brain; a caramel and jasmine blend that made his mouth water and made him think there was more to this little redhead than met the eye.
"I think that'll be just about enough," a gravelly voice invaded on the moment. Thorfinn suddenly found himself torn back from the witch.
The witch who dropped easily back to her feet as he was hauled away from her, strong claw-tipped hands suddenly around his throat. Thorfinn narrowed his eyes on her when she straightened her skirts before spitting on the pavement as though she'd just tasted something vile.
"Got a bit carried away, didn't you, Granger?" another voice asked, this one coming from Thorfinn's right. He found a wand digging into his ribs from that side and Thorfinn's gaze darted right, only to encounter the grizzled visage of ex-Auror Alastor Moody.
"Granger?" Thorfinn snarled, struggling in the tight hold.
"Don't move, kid," that low gravelly voice from behind him threatened. "Or I'll rip you throat out for touching her, right now."
"Easy, Remus," the witch spoke, no longer seeming skittish or coy, as she'd done at the bar. "I had to play my part. And look how neatly he fell into our trap."
Her smile was cold and cruel as her face began to bubble, and her long red curls faded to a chocolatey shade of brown in the flickering street-light. Granger.
"I fucking knew I smelled caramel and jasmine on you, Princess. I knew it was you!" Thorfinn snarled before he began to fight. Strong hands gripped him, ropes and chains flinging from wand-tips to encircle him. The hands on his throat tightened dangerously. Lupin. They'd sent the fucking Order after him – the werewolf suddenly at his back and ready to rip his throat out.
"Well guess what, Superstar?" Granger smirked at him coldly, looking nothing like the indignant, prudish witch he recalled from his final years at Hogwarts. "You subconsciously fancy me. You shouldn't have been able to smell me, unless I'm what happens to attract you."
"Amortentia?" Thorfinn spat, landing a punch on someone's jaw and sending them reeling as more Order members began swarming him, trying to restrain him.
"In the perfume," she said. The little bitch had the gall to smirk at him wickedly and Thorfinn's rage exploded.
Leaping flames of bright orange exploded from within him and someone screamed as they caught the blast. Moody blasted him sideways with a Reducto curse, the chains binding Thorfinn's legs preventing him from keeping his feet. He landed hard on the pavement, but rolled to take the brunt of the fall on his massive shoulders.
"I'm going to fucking murder you for this, Princess," Thorfinn growled. His eyes sought the little witch he'd loathed since his Hogwarts days. He hadn't seen her in ages, and fucking hell, she'd grown up sexier than the cunting devil! Thorfinn cursed again even as he rolled, trying to dodge the raging werewolf attempting to capture him.
Thorfinn kicked out with both bound feet, connecting them solidly against the werewolf's chest and sending him flying through a nearby shop-window. He felt a sense of satisfaction well up within him at the sight before reaching for his wand. If he could get word off to the rest of the Inner Circle, he'd be fine. They'd all been itching for a good fight recently, too. The Order had been holed up trying to fandangle some fancy escape plan for those that Thorfinn's fellow Death Eaters had taken hostage in a recent Order-Safe-House raid.
Good fucking luck to them. The ones who weren't of any use had been given over to Bellatrix and Fenrir. No way did the Order want whatever broken, fractured pieces were left. He fumbled his wand when Moody charged him - bum-leg and all – and Thorfinn cursed when the tool slipped from his grip to skitter away across the uneven and filthy cobblestones.
"Fucking cunts!"
Thorfinn watched his weapon roll away before one high-heeled boot came down upon it. Thigh-high, the leather hugged a pair of legs Thorfinn had been hoping would be wrapped around his head before he'd been jumped. He was thinking that was no longer on the agenda. For one, he was about to be taken prisoner by the fucking Order of the Phoenix. For another, he wasn't about to touch a fucking mudblood with a ten-foot pole. Not even if someone paid him.
"The more you struggle, the more you'll suffer during your interrogation." Moody threatened him angrily as he dropped his good knee onto the middle of Thorfinn's chest while a pair of red-haired lads – Weasley boys by the look of them – pinned his arms to the pavement to prevent him from touching his wand or pressing his fingers to his Dark Mark.
"You'll never take me alive," Thorfinn argued. He slung one of his arms free and clocked a Weasley lad across the face. He smirked when he knocked the bastard out cold.
"Bill!" The Weasley on Thorfinn's other arm cried in fury before punching Thorfinn across the face.
Thorfinn whipped around trying to punch the other Weasley holding him. He caught the end of a walking staff to the face from Moody for his trouble.
"Stop struggling, Rowle." Granger's voice was calm compared to the fury of the others as they fought to contain him.
Thorfinn stilled when he felt a sudden pressure on his groin. Glancing past the ugly old bastard kneeling on his chest, Thorfinn spotted the witch of his teenaged fucking daydreams standing over him. She had one of those hooker-boots pressed just hard enough against his junk to warn against further fighting. He was thinking he must be fucked up in the head when he had to bite back the urge to thrust against the pressure there.
"You know, I'm not surprised you felt the need to use Amortentia," Thorfinn told her. "How else could a filthy little mudblood cunt like you ever hope to talk a man into bed, eh Princess?"
She trod hard on his crotch, her eyes flashing with hatred.
"I wasn't the one whose scent attracted the other, Death Eater. Amortentia or not, you're the one who wants to fuck this 'filthy little mudblood cunt'." Her expression was alight with hatred and fury and utter disgust when he met her gaze with a foul glare.
Thorfinn found himself thinking as three wands were suddenly trained on his face - all three firing Stunning spells at him – that he'd been right. The little witch he'd lured out of the bar was a firecracker.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
"Are you alright, Hermione?" Remus asked. He was limping as he approached her after climbing back through the window where he'd been kicked and looking a little worse for wear.
"I'm fine." Hermione waved away his concern. "Are you alright? You're bleeding, Remus."
She moved closer to swipe her thumb over a cut on his cheek, wincing at the sight of the wound. Remus twitched slightly at the touch, but waved away her wand when she pulled it, intent on healing him.
"I'll be fine. This close to the full moon, it'll heal in a minute," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't follow fast enough to prevent you from being molested."
Hermione sighed and shook her head at his concern.
"I'd hardly call it molested, Remus. And I distracted him enough to get the rest of you close enough to catch him."
"Let's get out of here," Moody said. He flicked his wand to levitate the huge Death Eater into an upright position. The Weasley brothers – Bill, Fred and George had all come along for the mission – sorted Rowle's limbs out enough to Side-Along Apparate him to Headquarters where he would be interrogated.
With Grimmauld Place compromised after Snape murdered Dumbledore, they'd set up shop in a safe-house outside of Bristol. It wasn't much, but there were enough rooms for everyone to come and go as needed. Hermione had been staying there with Harry and Ron between missions out in search of Horcruxes.
"You got his wand, Granger?" Moody asked as he limped closer.
"Yes. Do you want it?" Hermione asked. She held the weapon out to the ex-Auror.
"You hang onto it," Moody ordered. "And constant vigilance, you hear?"
Hermione nodded her head, frowning at Rowle's wand before tucking it into her pocket alongside her own. Remus offered her his arm to Side-Along Apparate her back to Headquarters and Hermione took it gratefully. She kind of liked the way he took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
"You did well, Hermione," Remus said quietly. "No one will say it, I imagine, since none of the others were in the pub, but you did well. Didn't give yourself away at any point and pushed on even when you were reluctant. I'm guessing by the names for one another, that you and this Death Eater have a history?"
Hermione nodded her head and sighed heavily.
"He was a few years ahead of me at school and liked to torment the 'uppity little muggleborn'. He and a few of his friends often went out of their way to bump into me in the corridors and call me a 'mudblood' and otherwise make life unpleasant. Rowle, in particular, liked to refer to me as a prudish little mudblood after I got him in trouble when I caught him engaging in lewd acts where he shouldn't."
Remus nodded his head.
"You're aware of what it means that he seemed to still pick up your scent from the Amortentia spiking your perfume, yeah?" Remus asked her. He met her gaze, his soft green eyes threaded with the yellow of the wolf that glowed just a bit too bright to be considered natural.
"I'm aware," Hermione said grimly. "Though I imagine that seducing him into capture by the enemy will dampen his ardour, somewhat."
"When was the last time you saw him?" Remus asked, frowning.
Hermione shrugged her shoulders.
"He was three years ahead of me at school, so the end of fourth year, I suppose," Hermione replied. "He was one of the ones who came after Harry, Ron and I on our last venture out, before we realised the name had been tabooed. We were too busy hurling hexes to exchange niceties at that meeting."
"So almost four years since you last interacted with him?" Remus confirmed. Hermione wasn't sure she liked the way his brow furrowed slightly as he eyed her.
"I suppose so."
Remus didn't say anything else, but Hermione got the distinct impression that something about the information she'd given him was concerning the werewolf. She frowned as Remus Disapparated them both with a crack. The fact was that the notion of Rowle knowing her by scent four years after the last time they'd interacted didn't particularly bode well. Remus, or any other werewolf for that matter, might be able to recall a person by scent but Rowle was no werewolf – to Hermione knowledge, anyway. She didn't suppose it could mean anything good for her that his Amortentia scents reminded him of her.
They landed on the outskirts of the wards that guarded the safe house and Hermione let go of Remus's hand, watching the werewolf hurry forward to help the Weasley boys levitate Rowle inside the house while he was still unconscious. Ron appeared, his wand trained warily upon Remus.
"How many times did you have to show me how to perform the Patronus charm before I managed it?" he asked of the ex-professor.
Standard security questions being exchanged for the good of their overall protection was not something Hermione was in the mood for right then, no matter how necessary they might be.
"Twenty-three," Remus answered. Ron gave a sharp nod, allowing the werewolf past before turning his wand on Hermione.
"What was our last fight about?" he asked.
Hermione wracked her brain.
"You left your towel on the floor in the bathroom and I tripped on it," she said. "We had a fight about your poor standards of cleanliness."
Ron grinned a bit.
"What were the first words I ever spoke to you?" Hermione asked a security question of her own.
"Directly to me?" Ron clarified. "You told me I had dirt on my nose."
Hermione nodded, smiling at him in return before hurrying forward and letting the redhead pull her into a tight embrace. She hated the fact that, suddenly, the butterflies she'd been feeling whenever she touched Ron didn't seem at all interested in fluttering for him. Melting into his embrace nonetheless, Hermione breathed in the warm scent of his skin, noting the freshly mown grass scent that always seemed to cling to him. It had been a favourite of hers for a long time and cuddling into him made her feel like she'd come home.
"How did it go?" Ron asked.
"Did you see your brothers with the Death Eater we captured?" Hermione asked in return. She pulled back to frown at him slightly.
"Saw them dragging some big blond bastard inside but his face looked pretty banged up. I'm guessing he's responsible for the fact that Kingsley turned up with a screaming and terribly burned Mundungus? Was that Rowle? The one from the coffee shop?"
Hermione nodded her head slowly.
"The Death Eater we caught is Thorfinn Rowle," she explained. "Pyrotechnics seem to be a favourite attack strategy of his. He's the one who set Hagrid's hut on fire when they all burst in and Snape killed Dumbledore."
"Thought that was him." Ron frowned. "Didn't that one used to give you trouble at school?"
"Yes," she said quietly. "He threatened to murder me for seducing him out of the pub, only to set the Order on him."
"He won't have a chance," Ron assured her. "They'll grill him until he gives up everything Moody and the others want to know and then they'll wipe his memory, I imagine."
"I don't know if they'll be able to," Hermione said. A frown marred her brow as she entered the house. She paused briefly to brush her cheek against Harry's and hug him when he rushed over to her, intent on ensuring that she hadn't been injured during the mission.
Harry had been particularly vocal against the idea of Hermione being the one expected to seduce the Death Eater.
"Don't think we'll be able to do what, Granger?" Moody asked. He frowned at her from across the kitchen.
Molly was in the process of healing them all of the mild burns, the scrapes and the cuts they'd earned in the scrap with Rowle. Mad-Eye looked none too pleased about the burn salve Molly was smearing across his upper chest and the base of his neck.
"Ron was saying that when you've all extracted everything you can from Rowle's mind, you'll wipe his memory and let him go again," Hermione said. "I'm not sure you'll be able to wipe his memory. He… he was among the group that came after Harry, Ron and I on our last trip out. I had to use memory charms on the two Death Eaters we stunned – Rowle was one of them. His mind is… not amenable to memory charms. I had a lot of trouble wiping it of the notion of seeing us at all. I imagine that days or weeks being interrogated through less than friendly means will stick rather profoundly in his stubborn head."
"He's got a trap-mind?" Moody frowned.
"I didn't know there was a term for it." Hermione shrugged. "All I know is that I had no trouble wiping the mind of the other Death Eater that day, but shifting the recollection of even seeing us took me nearly half an hour inside Rowle's head."
Moody's scowl deepened.
"Where did you put him?" Hermione asked. She turned her gaze to Harry, expecting that he'd know.
"He's in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Bill and the twins were going to bind him to a chair and Bill was planning to do something to him to contain his magic so that, on the off chance that he can do wandless magic, he won't be able to for a few months. He's been working on some kind of charm too, that will prevent the Taboo on the name from activating their tracking charm if Rowle says it," Harry said.
Hermione nodded her head.
"Are you alright, Hermione?" Harry asked when she frowned, her teeth worrying at her lip.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Hermione frowned at her best friend.
"Your lip is bleeding," Harry pointed out. He reached over and ran the pad of his thumb across her lower lip before showing it to her. It was smeared with blood.
"Oh. Um… I think he bit me," she muttered. Hermione reached up, wiping at the blood and frowning.
"He bit you? Is that what you said?" Ron asked.
Hermione suspected the night was about to take a turn for the worse when Ron's ears and neck began to turn red while a deep frown crossed his face. They weren't a couple and had never discussed being one, but Hermione had suspected that much like she'd been nursing feelings for him recently, Ron had feelings for her too.
"I… um…" Hermione looked toward Remus for help.
"She was tasked with seducing a Death Eater, Ron," Remus said. He stood across the kitchen, his arms folded while Molly smeared healing gel across the cut on his cheek and the cuts on his hands – which Hermione hadn't noticed until now – from where he'd been hurled through the shop window. "Did you imagine she'd actually managed to lure him to the alley and distract him long enough for all of us to get the drop on him without having to get a bit physical?"
"Physical?" Harry growled. He turned his green eyes to Hermione, searching her face for confirmation.
"I had to snog him," Hermione sighed. She wiped more blood from her lip before suckling it between her teeth until the bleeding stopped. "It was really nothing to get upset over."
"Looked like something from where I was standing until Remus grabbed Rowle by the throat," Fred said.
Hermione turned toward the sound of his voice, spotting both twins and Bill entering the kitchen. Fred's right eye was swollen so much he didn't seem able to see out of it. George was sporting what looked like a bloodied lip and Bill's nose was clearly broken.
"Looked like she had her legs around his waist and her hands in his hair while she was snogging him," George agreed. "At least, from what I could see."
"If you could all stop reminding me of the wretched ordeal, that'd be great," Hermione grumbled. "I'm going to go and shower off the feel of Death Eater filth."
"Don't be long," Moody interrupted her. Hermione paused on her way out the door, having to shake Harry's hand from her arm and to push Fred out of her way to even try to leave. "We might be needing your help in the interrogation when our prisoner wakes up, Granger."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"That's not important right now, Harry." Remus spoke quietly from across the kitchen. "Suffice it to say that Hermione's particular brand of persuasion was what allowed us to subdue the bastard at all."
Hermione left the kitchen, but not before she heard Sirius ask, "What'd she do?"
"Stomped on his crotch," Remus answered. "And taunted him while she did it. Remind me to give you details later about the interesting experience it was to hear that witch drop the c-bomb."
Molly's gasp of indignant horror was all Hermione needed to hear before she could take no more. She hurried up the stairs without looking back, ignoring the sound of Harry and Ron attempting to follow her – no doubt intent on drilling her with questions of how everything had gone. She was thinking as she dashed into the bathroom – satisfied by the click of the lock – that the last thing she wanted was to have to listen to Ron's jealousy over the idea of her snogging a Death Eater.
She needed to process the fact that she'd just snogged Thorfinn Rowle. Worse, she needed to do something to bury the fact that she was ninety-eight percent sure she'd liked it.
