Thanks to my reviewers.
To the one guest reviewer-yes Pansy's situation is a very difficult one, and like you'll see in this chapter Hermione will be trying to right that wrong. I wouldn't go as far to say Pansy is a rape victim (Pansy consents to the sex for the money), but she is a victim of the Ministry for sure.
To Roxanne Marquez- I like the spanish and thank you for your opinion.
To FanDeLecture- I'm glad we share the Pansy/Hermione pairing in common, and I've taken your opinion of the sex scenes into account.
This chapter has mild sexual contact towards the end.
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Hermione had a report held right to her face. Nobody ever needed to be that close to read something, a telltale sign to any observant witness that none of it was actually being read. Instead her mind whirled for a completely different reason than to obsorb the information in front of her.
Dennis Creevey, the newest addition to the Accidental Magic team, popped his head around her office divider and enthusiastically chirped "Double Americano with sweetener?"
Dennis was not a quiet boy, especially in his happy voice, but Hermione didn't even flinch in response. He politely coughed, not wanting to make a bad impression.
Hermione hummed and sharply regarded Dennis as if she'd been paying attention all along. Dennis smiled shyly this time. "Your coffee?"
"Oh, I am sorry Dennis. Here," she takes the brown cup and sweetly smiled back "that's very sweet of you."
"Just trying to be helpful on my first day Maam" He shrugged modestly.
Hermione nearly yakked at being called "Maam". "Dennis, we went to school together, you can call me Hermione."
Dennis chuckled nervously "It don't seem right, I'm a rookie and you're a war hero."
Hermione regarded him patiently, had he not been the curious and respectful kid he'd always been Hermione would've been more harsh.
"Three bits of advice Dennis. Number one, never think my participation in the war was any more valuable than yours, and your brothers." She watched the boys eyes glisten sadly for a moment and when he composed himself again she continued. "Second, this is not the DMLE, you don't need to prove yourself to anyone here. And lastly, it should seem right because we're a team now, and I like to think we're friends too."
Dennis grinned "I'd be honoured."
"You see, a good sense of humour. Me and you will get along like a house on fire." Hermione commended him. Had he not been a Muggle-born like herself, she would be hastily explaining that expression to him.
Dennis nodded and was about to leave before the curious side of him made itself known. "Is there something troubling you...Hermione?"
Hermione sipped her coffee contently "Troubling me? Why would you think something's troubling me?"
"Err...you have always been a quick reader from what I've seen and heard...and you were reading that report when I came to offer you a drink...that was half an hour ago." He seemed to sound somewhat guilty, almost as if he felt he had done wrong and expected to be told such.
Hermione was just exasperated that she'd been so obvious. "Troubled? You could very well say that yes."
"Don't worry, I won't pry." Dennis replied, trying to discontinue the conversation now he felt he'd overstepped the mark.
Hermione wanted to let him go, after all he was clearly wet behind the ears and couldn't offer her much in terms of information or help. But she reconsidered when she realised that he was the perfect person to talk to, because of the reasons she'd just mentioned.
Hermione hadn't told a soul about who she bumped into in the nightclub lavatory two nights ago. How could she? No Gryffindor would show sympathy to a snake, especially Pansy Parkinson. Hermione didn't trust her either to be honest; her brain was outnumbered by her compassionate heart and trustworthy gut.
The first reaction her close loved ones would have is to double check Hermione wasn't harmed, and their second to worm every little detail out of her; trying to piece together some sinister plot the Slytherin 'obviously' had in mind.
Hermione didn't know too much about what Pansy was going through, which was a large part of Hermione's problem; what she did know for certain was that Pansy was as surprised to see Hermione that night as she was. And certainly had no desire to do so. No, Hermione didn't think Pansy was plotting anything at all, it doesn't mean the Slytherin was being honest about her situation though.
But the fact that there was a possibility of her telling the truth, was enough to get Hermione's ire heating up. If it was true, it meant the Ministry was knowingly sending people to work in demeaning and barbaric jobs for punishment. A Ministry trying to make up for its past failures by flipping the focus from Muggle-borns to the sympathisers of Voldemort. Singling them out and degrading them.
The sympathizers beliefs were wrong, Hermione wasn't denying that. But freedom of speech goes both ways; speaking out about what you belief is a right every person has, popular opinion or not. It might not be socially excusable anymore, but blood supremacy was still a choice and Hermione's goal was to sway that opinion, not enforce what she believed onto people.
She would not and could not condone treatment of this absurdity, if indeed that treatment was reported truthfully.
"It's just a Ministry matter Dennis. Very boring for such an excitable person like you."
Dennis replied with surprising wit "if so, wouldn't such a topic need some excitement?"
Hermione snickered and conceded. "Too shay".
Dennis smiled then fell back into his shell. "Just messing. If you don't wish to talk I can get on with my job instead of bothering you."
Hermione shook her head and craned her neck to the opposite chair from her. "I will try to simplify it and make it an enjoyable conversation as much as I can."
Dennis found residence in the offered chair and Hermione quickly began. "As a Muggle-born yourself you have almost certainly experienced your fair share of prejudice, am I right?"
Seeing him nod uncaringly told Hermione he'd outgrown the horrible feelings the prejudice can inflict in you. Meaning he must've experienced more than a "fair share" to be begin with. But swallowing her empathy for the moment, she continued "how would you feel if the prejudiced became the inflicted?"
His answer was important because the nature of his response determined how brief or elongated this discussion would be.
"Well, relief at first. A part of me would be glad. But if I were to see it from the viewpoint of how they saw me all those times, I'd just see myself."
His honesty impressed, and resultingly achieved the continuation of the conversation. "That's commendable of you. Well, the very thing may not be happening generally, or at least publically. It might not be happening at all. However I've recently been told that in one aspect, certain individuals who may have condoned or been responsible for the discrimination of Muggle-borns; are themselves being mistreated by the Ministry."
Dennis looked surprised. "Who told you that?"
Hermione hesitated before revealing "do you remember a Slytherin girl, in my year? Pug-nosed, black hair, stuck to Malfoy like a leech?"
After laughing at her unflattering description, he answered "Piggy Parkinson. Yeah, I can't forget. I think you compliment her there, she was unbelievably ugly."
Hermione felt the sudden fire of annoyance creeping up. She summed it up to a disapproval of that sort of attitude. But if that baffled her momentarily, she was equally baffled as to why she said what she did next. "She's not that ugly girl any longer."
Dennis replied with more surprise than he showed before. "Not someone like Parkinson, how could she be anything but ugly?"
"All it would take Dennis," she said sharply "to have you going back on those words, is to see her once in person. And I have done. The problem is the conditions in which I met her, and what they mean."
Dennis showed heaps of confusion to which Hermione indulged. "It appears the Ministry are forcing pure-blood wizards and witches, who didn't oppose Voldemort, to
do demeaning and soul-crushing jobs. Work none of us would ever be comfortable doing."
"And you believed her?"
Hermione snapped "you know what, maybe you should go back to work if you're gonna act like this."
Dennis apologised and slumped guiltily in his chair. Hermione got over most of her irritation, but a hard tone still remained in her voice. "I don't believe anything as of yet. I feel that if I ignore it and its true, I would be ashamed of myself. If I don't ignore it and I report it, I risk my career and reputation on a lie. I can't discuss this with anyone close to me, because of the person I'm referring to. And I'm also unsure whether Pansy wants me to report it."
Dennis disregarded his feelings towards the Slytherin as he focused on one of his hero's problems. "Does mentioning this to someone close to you, necessarily mean you need to provide names? What's wrong with keeping Parkinson anonymous?"
Hermione had thought of that, pondering on it for a good two hours. Couldn't she just twist the truth about the girls identity, or just reveal that the nightclub employs people to do those acts, by the decree of the Ministry. But if it got down to an official report or investigation, Hermione would be forced to reveal her dishonesty. She'd be forgiven for the dishonesty, but she wasn't sure about being forgiven for who she was protecting with it.
"No. If it's true then I will need her help and it will just come out anyway. No, the ones close to me cannot know...at least not yet. I won't let them talk me out of helping people like Pansy get control of their lives, by reminding me what sort of person she is."
Dennis nodded his head in understanding. "I've always liked that about you. Heart of a saint, even towards a demon girl."
Hermione smiled at the compliment "I won't be saint-like if I find she conjured all this up and my career is looking down the barrel."
"I don't think that would ever be a possibility, you losing your career."
"Well I'm not willing to face the possibility at all. Which is why I need more than Pansy's word, I need evidence. I need a team of individuals who can back her up, I need records, I need faces and names. I just don't know how to get it all." Hermione admitted all this before looking at an unconvinced young man with a knowing look in his eyes. "What, still doubting me?"
"No I'm not. You know exactly what to do. I think you knew before I even came along. That's what has got you in a muddle. Go see Parkinson again."
Hermione sighed. "I can't go back there. How would I explain it?"
"Just say..." he stopped in realisation "...what was Parkinson's job by the way?"
Hermione pondered about how to put this delicately, but she gave up trying to mince her words. "She works at The Siren's Call. She's a hook-up girl."
"A what?" Wow, still innocent was young Dennis.
"A p...pr...for Merlin's sake, she gets paid for sex. She's a prostitute."
She could tell Dennis wanted to laugh, his shining eyes and the signs of fight in his neutral expression. "I see what you mean now. The Ministry is forcing her to do a job that involves payment for sex. I can see the conflict of morality there. Well..."
Hermione was patiently waiting for his long pause to end, whilst his brain tried to construct an idea for going back there.
She did not predict the pause would end in him turning bright red and looking like a frightened mouse. "Dennis?"
"Ha ha...no I have no...idea."
"You're lying. Come on, spit it out."
Dennis became even more uncomfortable, he might've even fled had Hermione's chair not been in the way of the escape route. "It's a ridiculous idea, you'd kill me for even suggesting it."
"What's so bad about it?" Hermione asked. "My word, you'll blow a blood vessel if you carry on. Just tell me."
"Iwasthinkingyoushouldgoaskforherservices" he looked out of breath, for good reason.
Hermione's eyebrows hid behind her fringe. "Come again?"
With a deep breath he provided "Don't kill me. I think...you...should...go ask...for...Parkinson's...service."
Hermione already felt her body reacting to the suggestion. But for clarification "service as in...ask her for sex."
"You don't to! Have sex that is! Just, get her alone to go over what she said and whatnot!" Dennis compromised with too much enthusiasm.
He just suggested Hermione to go back to the club, and ask to have 'private time' with Pansy Parkinson. How that helped explain why she'd been there to Ron was obvious, it didn't. It made it a million times worse.
But then, how else was she going to speak to her again? Wait in their toilet facilities until Pansy came in with another dog of a man? Wait for her to drain all the guys sexual energy before managing another very awkward conversation?
Even if Hermione did catch Pansy in a much different scenario, it wasn't a guarantee the Slytherin would speak to her again. At least with a private booking she got a decent chance.
There was an element of excitement about it that Hermione pointedly ignored.
"As mortifying as that idea is, it might be my best chance."
"Really?!" exclaimed Dennis, having not expect her to be as calm as she was. Let alone agreeing with his idea.
"I will meet her TO DISCUSS HER CLAIM, and see if she wants me to help her. I WILL NOT HAVE..." realising how loud she was being, she ended with a whisper "...sex with her."
"No. Of course. I would never suggest doing that." He clearly wanted immediate escape. "I'd best get back to work."
Hermione needed to ensure one last thing though before he got away. "Dennis...we never had this conversation. Got it?"
"I got it" he immediately replied "I got it".
Then he was gone. And Hermione's concentration was gone too.
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Hermione must've stared at the front of The Siren's Call for a good fifteen minutes. The weird engraving of an incredibly beautiful lady with her bottom half unfinished beneath the curvy water line. On the end of her arm was a very concerned (but clearly aroused) man being coerced (dragged) into the water with the beauty.
Somehow images of the man moulding into a more feminine form with long curls came into her mind, alerting her to the craziness she was meddling in. It made her two different types of nervous.
The cover-up story she had to make up made her feel guilty; she always told Ron never to keep secrets or lie to her, and she couldn't be more hypocritical as she stood there unmoving. But hopefully it was this once and she'd never have to lie or deceive ever again.
Hermione tore her eyes away from the engraving and steeled her eyes. She could do this. Do it and get it over with. Get more information on Pansy, maybe find out about other victims and move onto them when she's gotten all she can from the Slytherin.
With her Gryffindor courage pushing her, she entered the club.
She'd arrived a little early, the club only being open twenty minutes, so it wasn't anywhere near as packed as the night before last. It was easy therefore to find her way to the bar.
She'd magically alter her facial features first. Then she'd start casually, enjoying a quick gin and orange and eventually enquiring about the Sirens. And she followed the plan to the word.
She was dressed in casual jeans and a black top. Looking her best without looking to be on a night out. She was about to hire a prostitute, she didn't want the added humiliation of hopeless men trying to flirt and fail at smooth-talking her.
She perhaps should've invited young Dennis just for the company or to discourage any sleazeballs approaching her. Then again Dennis wasn't exactly a macho man, Hermione herself probably weighed more. He also would die in discomfort at being asked out.
But most importantly, Pansy would refuse point blank to talk if she knew Hermione had blabbed. The way she hid when Ginny came looking for Hermione two nights prior, told her she wasn't willing to be discovered. It was bad enough that Hermione found out.
But alone, with a bit of secrecy, she might get some more out of Pansy.
"You finished that my dear?" the barwoman asked. Her hair fire red and looking like a housewife from the sixties.
Hermione checked her small glass where a small orange puddle swirled on the bottom. She hadn't even realised she'd been drinking it. "Er...yes just the one more."
The barwoman took her glass and brandished her wand at the shelf behind her. A large bottle of gin floated steadily towards the bar, and the woman's hand intercepted it. Her curious eyes regarded Hermione's slightly uncomfortable ones. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"
"If it's an inappropriate question yes." Hermione replied.
"Inappropriate" the woman found some hilarity in her use of that word "usually everything people ask for is inappropriate in here. And you are not here for a couple of drinks, I know that."
Hermione could see her point, Hermione herself was here for inappropriate reasons. "No, I'm not just here for the drinks."
"Or a night-out, you ain't getting drunk off your head in that attire. Which means you're only here for one other reason, am I right?"
Hermione nodded "Guilty as charged."
The barwoman topped her up and winked. "On the house, you can take it with you if you want some liquid courage."
"I'm sorry?" Hermione wasn't quite on the same wavelength.
"Our Siren girls? You can take it when you two are to get things started, you get me now?"
"Ah. Well...thank you very much." Hermione accepted the newly filled glass.
"It's been a while since a homocul girl came in here." The redhead stated.
"What's a homocul?"
"Dear me girl, you're a witch and still struggling with latin. Oculi Hominis. Man eyes. Homocul. You have the sexual gaze of a man, therefore you like girls sexually." She explained as if obvious.
"I..." Hermione was about to deny the remark about her sexual orientation, but it was easier to go with it. "I'm much more accustomed to the term lesbian or homosexual."
"Each to their own. Got any of our girls in mind, or do you prefer lucky dips?"
Hermione nearly coughed on her drink "I have someone in mind."
"A favourite of yours?"
"Not exactly. Just what I'm seeking tonight." Hermione answered her.
"Well Wayne will be out shortly, he owns the service side of the business."
As she went to serve another punter she missed Hermione's low mumble in response, an unenthusiastic "great".
Before her second glass was drained, a man stepped out from a doorway behind the bar. He had hair styled like a girls; all long, golden blonde and silky. His heavy brown eyebrows told you the hair was as real as a stuffed animal. His face was handsomely ruggish. His perfectly ironed shirt clashing horribly with his pink flared trousers. Hermione could escape momentarily from her awkwardness by hiding a chuckle behind her glass.
He went over to the redhead woman and they spoke in a formal discussion about something. As the interaction appeared to draw to a close, the barwoman pointed out Hermione and a smile that rivalled Lockharts came gliding over to her.
"Good evening Miss, how may we serve you tonight?"
Hermione instantly hated this man, and his voice. "I wish to hire a Siren please."
"Indeed. A female customer certainly is a refreshing change, would you like to see our catalogue?" He asked.
Hermione hated everything to do with this "service", its very nature dragged what it meant to be a woman through the dirt. A "catalogue" was where you looked for nice home furnishings or appliances, not sexual partners. Hermione had to swallow down all these feelings, and stomach it at least until she could speak with Pansy.
"That won't be necessary, I have someone in mind."
"You've met one of my Sirens before" he stated with approval.
"Yes. A girl by the name of Pansy."
"Ah, our precious dark flower, of course it is. She has the highest satisfaction ratings and most recommendations. I'll arrange for it shortly, but first your name?"
"Belinda Davies." Hermione's alias, an unsavoury character from the department of International Magical Cooperation, was actually a close match to Hermione physically. A good scapegoat for any checks the club staff may carry out.
He wrote the name down and smiled at her once finished. "She'll be with you shortly. She'll explain the rules, rates and choice of settings. Enjoy your night won't you?"
Hermione's fake smile fooled him. "I will."
She uncaringly glared daggers at his retreating back before her eyes rested on her drink.
Pansy would be here in moments, and as soon as she realised this, excitement took over her briefly.
Hermione had to be honest, she could've got much worser-looking girls than Pansy. How Pansy transformed from that horrid, scowling girl into someone so breath-taking; Hermione felt envious.
Hermione downed the rest of the drink and the empty glass was snatched from her grasp. "Who do you think you're fooling Granger?"
Hermione's eyes found such breath-taking beauty invading her personal space. "Er...excuse me?"
"Drop the act, don't worry I'm not grassing." She brought Hermione's glass to her lips and gulped the last remnants of the drink. "I'm certainly a bit surprised though, but also not."
"How did you know who I was, the alterations were working fine?" Hermione enquired.
"Belinda Davies. As if that stuck-up cow would ever have the guts to come to a place like this. And for a service like this. You could pass as her with little effort, the real you would've caused a media circus in here."
Hermione gave Pansy credit for her logical way of thinking and observational skills. "Well, aren't you glad I wasn't her?"
"Anyone beats her." Pansy scoffed "but what is intriguing beyond comprehension, is why you've taken such an interest in me."
Hermione held her gaze into those charcoal rim emerald eyes "I want it perfectly understood i'm not here for any shenanigans. I want to know more about your claims regarding your job circumstances and who else has been affected."
Pansy appeared bored over annoyed. "Just like you to not leave something alone."
Hermione regarded her disbelievingly "what did you expect me to do after telling me all that? Why tell me at all if you didn't want any action to be taken?"
"Your nosy drunken self wouldn't shut up." Pansy answered easily.
"And what about all the hiding, Ginny came in and you hid because you were ashamed. Same as you were with me."
Pansy then roughly yanked Hermione so she was pulled in close to her face. "Have you told them?"
"I haven't told anyone." Hermione lied.
"It better stay that way Granger. My life is a hellhole as it is without adding your lot to the long list of shit I have to deal with." Pansy warned.
Hermione ignored the threat "what stuff would that be?"
Pansy quickly pushed her back where she came from. Hermione missed the sweet perfume she couldn't help lose herself slightly to. "You know, information is not part of my service. I'm a prostitute, not an informant. Unless you pay me good, you will not be getting anything tonight."
Pansy turned to leave but Hermione stopped her. "Wait..." this was her only shot "...how much for an hour?"
An; more to come.
The heat starts to pick up next chapter, but no full on sex until a decent few chapters away.
Thanks for reading, and let me know if you're enjoying it so far
TBC...