Hermione laid on her own bed, watching the ceiling. Her eyes were unfocused, but inside her thoughts swirled in a furious current.
What had gone wrong today? She had gone into the day thinking of helping people. Then everything went all wrong.
The way she kept Nott, overwhelmed and desperate and trapped, that was bad. Guilt warred inside with the crawl of satisfaction deep in her bones. It wasn't the same sort of satiation she felt after the twins, physical and plump and still needy somehow.
All of her accomplishments, all of her experiences with winning or triumph had been an earthy sense of overcoming the odds through her own hard work. This...sickened her the same way it elated her.
Eventually she left her bed and freshened up, images pushing against her mind. Theo's hopeless longing, the stark truth of Malfoy's, even the bloated obedience of McLaggen followed her.
She found herself in front of the fireplace, casting powder in and going to the first place she had found answers.
The Shell Cottage looked quite pleasant, with colorful toys toddling about and a giggling Victoire stacking wooden cups on top of another. Fleur was sitting on the couch, a lovely vision curled in a white robe.
For a moment Fleur resembled her magical creature heritage so strongly that Hermione almost recoiled.
Fleur lifted a hand in greeting, smiling brightly. "'allo!"
The impression faded and reality settled back in.
"Hello, Fleur." Hermione smiled and entered the room more fully, stooping to brush her fingers over the playing baby's hair. Victoire wasn't really a baby anymore, but it was hard to see her as anything else.
"Hello, Fleur. How are you?" she smiled, an approximation of happiness that felt like more of a grimace.
Fleur sat up straighter, flicking her wand as she stood up. "Tea?"
"Please." Hermione followed her into the kitchen and sat as the other witch prepared a tray for them.
She wanted to spill immediately, but waited until the silvery blonde had two cups of steaming tea on the table and a plate of premade biscuits.
Fleur looked at her seriously, reminding Hermione that she had once faced dragons and merpeople. "You are upset?"
Hermione looked at the table, stroking the smooth wood nervously. "What do you know about Veelas and deals with witches?"
Fleur sucked in a breath, picking up her teacup but not taking a drink. "Wut...why?"
Hermione kept her gaze on the table. "A case. I have a case with a witch that claims to have accidentally entered a deal with a Veela."
"Oh." Fleur smiled again. "Well, it is not something I know too well because it is, eh, not possible for me. But I know the story of my grandmuzzer."
She raised her head to stare at her curiously.
"She made a deal with a witch named Dany. many many years ago. It was good for them, Dany had many men. Her friend for many years, my grandfazzer, he loved her. She did not want to take a mate, and the Veela, Illona, she took the tender feelings, and she fell in love."
Hermione smiled a bit, it was quite sweet. It did have some odd implications though. "What happened to Dany?"
Fleur shrugged. "She became a great actress. It was what she wanted most."
Hermione could understand putting one's career first, but she couldn't imagine living like this forever. "Didn't the deal break because your grandmother took a Mate?"
Fleur looked puzzled for a moment, then her expression turned solemn. "I zink-think... that Dany was just too far gone."
"Oh." Well that was delightfully ominous.
Hermione woke up as early as possible to get ready. Pulling her Auror's robe from its spot behind her door, she recast all the usual spells on it.
No Wrinkle, Waterproof, Map-Tracking, and an added tailoring charm that would tighten and shorten the sleeves and hem as needed. She wore the robes and could manage, but most of her running, dueling, and other experience had been in her Muggle clothing.
Her hair was tucked in a bun and she rubbed clear balm on her lips and rubbed moisturizing on her skin. She preferred to do such after bathing, but this morning she would be getting attention.
After a fellow Auror comes back from the hospital, the others would generally buy them lunch and the first round at the pub The Crimson Corner. It was much better when it was a Friday, but some of her friends always showed up.
Gaining confidence from her put-together appearance the way she preferred it to be, Hermione banished all thoughts about the Other Issue and head out the door to get to work.
The first strange occurrence happened before she even got to the second level, and that was she didn't have to struggle up the line to the elevator. People kept moving just enough so she could get by with a smile she hadn't seen since shortly after the war.
Not by the other battle-torn members, they had stares of an entirely different sort, the thousand-mile sort.
It was more the 'I recognize you and that's exciting' quick smile. She hadn't been in the papers for any reason recently that she knew of, so she nodded back and got on the elevator with several other co-workers.
"I haven't seen you for a bit, Ms. Granger," a young bloke with a huge briefcase said politely to her. He was just starting in the Transportation department when she last visited the level, she remembered him because he was subtly copying Percy's fusty style.
"The risky life of an Auror." She smiled at him.
"If anyone can handle it, you can," he said as the doors opened to the second level.
Hermione nodded at him as she stepped out of the lift, preparing herself for a day of internal turmoil. The offices were casually chaotic as always, Aurors grudgingly filling out paperwork and discussing current or future cases with each other.
She didn't see Harry, but others greeted her with small hand waves and the occasional double-take. She hoped they were just surprised to see her again so quickly, the 'recuperation time' of the Hogwarts heroes were twice that of a longer-standing Auror. Not by choice, damn Malfoy.
Her desk was nearly bare since she never left it cluttered before leaving for an assignment. There was a new thin sheath of papers on it, a case with a name she didn't recognize.
Turning over the first page, her eyebrow climbing high as she read over the issue. Rubbing her forehead and rolling her eyes, she took out a fresh sheet of parchment and began to write down the procedures needed for this.
Find out when Arthur is available to speak privately.
Ask if and how he got his hands on a helicopter.
Check on his progress.
Hide all evidence of wrongdoing.
Hermione snorted to herself, Vanishing the list and rubbing the bridge of her nose. It wasn't an interesting case exactly, but it wasn't a bad idea to have her handle it. The question was, was Malfoy mocking her with this or subtly allowing leniency?
He had to know she wouldn't fine the man that she admired so much. Maybe it was a trap? No, she had already blatantly offered to let him fire her if that's what he wanted. Malfoy was confusing.
"Good to see you, Hermione."
Another well-wisher passed by and she lifted a hand in acknowledgment. This was followed by another Auror, Turnwald, stopped and sat at the edge of her desk. "You know, I've been meaning to tell you that your map saved my life. It was really a brilliant idea."
"Thank you." Hermione watched him stand up and go, utterly bemused. She had modified a Tracking Spell to connect to the maps all along the walls to the west. The Auror did have to agree to it and recast it every three days, and gave the password to locate him or her to only those their partner and other trusted individuals.
Hermione had added in that last modification since Baddock became Head Auror. Not one person he supervised had given their password to him, but Harry had every single one.
That tactic had failed completely when Malfoy ignored it and made it mandatory to pass the information to the Head of the department. Since then she took to working on making each individual's password voice-sensitive as well as password protected.
Either way she had made those modifications well over a year ago, and Turnwald was not a new Auror.
As the fifth person stopped by her desk to admire her handling of a previous case or comment they liked partnering with her last time, she figured out what was so familiar about their deference.
Harry bloody Potter. That's how they treated Harry, the casual compliments and going out of their way to chat with him. He must have put them up to it after the conflict with Malfoy to make her feel better.
She smiled the rest of the day, enjoying the conversation and promises to be at The Crimson Corner to buy her a round.
Hermione stopped at her flat between work and going out to the pub, promising herself she would catch Arthur at work if she could. After last time at the Burrow… her skin flushed hotter than the water pounding down could account for. No, no bad Hermione!
She turned the knobs the opposite way, holding in a whimper at the icy blast of water. It certainly cooled off the ardour brought on by memories though. Besides, she had a nagging feeling her control now was not what it was then.
Wrapping a huge towel around herself, she cast several Warming Charms throughout the house as she walked to the bedroom. Wandless too, before she could catch herself.
Knock knock!
Checking her protective charms and detecting nothing amiss except it wasn't a previous visitor, she walked to the front door and called, "Who is it?"
"Blaise Zabini."
Shutting her eyes tight for a second, she ran her fingers through her hair and it was springy soft and dry by the time her hand dropped. Her towel disappeared and a light gray robes covered her from wrist to ankle in soft lines, several pleats running from hips to hem.
She opened the door with a raised eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought you were a fan of being surprised?" He flashed a white grin at her, contrasting nicely with his dark skin.
Hermione took a step back. "Come in. I see you've spoken to Malfoy." Honestly, she hadn't feared the former Slytherins in years, if she truly ever had. Perhaps it came from being confident she knew more spells than them then, but she knew it was now.
She was a damn good Auror, and they seemed to spend a lot of time being wealthy and indolent. Most of them.
"Not so much spoke to as listened to with a side of nodding and smiling." Blaise took a cursory glance at her flat before turning his attention back to her.
"Tea?" The words courteously, traitorously, left her mouth before she could stop it. Curse her ingrained habits.
"Thank you, Granger." His smile made the the corner of his eyes crinkle. His charming demeanor was suspicious at best.
Hermione busied herself putting a kettle on and checking for-no, she would not make a full tray to encourage an extension of the visit. She knew for certain that she did not know Blaise very well at all, and refused to let her mind pick out some obscure trait he might have that she found appealing.
She could control this.
He took a seat at her kitchen, occasionally looking her way as she whisked the kettle off right before boiling point and prepared the tea. "He finds you very arousing, you know."
She almost dropped a delicate cup. Clearing her throat, she set it down gently. "Arouses his ire, because…?"
"I haven't seen him like this since Potter."
"Again, do you mean…" She set the small tray down on the table, raising an eyebrow at him. Malfoy certainly had never given her mooney eyes or given any indication he could stand her. She'd believe it about Harry before thinking Malfoy wanted anything more than to 'put her in her place' with the rest of the Muggleborn filth.
Not that, she would admit, he had made any slurs during his time in the Ministry, but nobody could accuse Malfoy of being bad at politics.
Blaise waved a hand, a long-fingered hand with trim nails. "Draco wants to struggle to get what he wants. It comes from years of being handed anything he wanted. Being rejected gives him the best hate-wanks, I bet."
Hermione pulled a face, the imagery of that making her bothered on several levels. She poured his tea for him, pursing her lips in a manner reminiscent of McGonagall. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but once again, why are you here?"
Blaise added a dollop of milk and two sugars as he smiled harmlessly at her. "So impatient. I've come to offer my services."
Once again she couldn't control the way her body betrayed her, gaze tracing over his upper body before snapping up to his eyes. "I," she cleared her throat, "I have no need for your...services."
His smile slowly widened, a glimpse of his straight teeth and just the tip of his tongue as he basked in that look. Smarmy git. "I meant assistance in the situation you find yourself in."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Hermione took a drink of her plain tea, though she preferred it with a spot of milk as well.
Blaise made a small 'mm' in the back of his throat, eyes never leaving hers. "Just because nobody around is well-read doesn't mean that I haven't figured you out."
She chose to say nothing this time, sipping the strong liquid and hoped he was bluffing. Perhaps he'd merely think she was a pervy witch who enjoyed public shows, which was marginally better than the alternative.
"You've been Veela-Struck."
The blunt statement crashed that theory down into jagged bits of guilt and unease. She shifted in her chair, shrugging nonchalantly. "Luckily no, my latest assignment did not have any adverse effects."
"I agree," he said as his expression brightened. "Not adverse at all. What you could accomplish right now is monumental. And I want in."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said stubbornly. Merlin, if this got out...it would make her previous leaves look like a blink of an eye.
"Granger." Blaise leaned forward, his handsome face open and earnest, which helped nothing. "Theo did not tell Draco why he sent him that Owl for you. But I know that look of dazed lust, I've seen it sit across the table from me on half a dozen faces."
Her brow wrinkled as she stared at him, thrown off by the information that didn't fit with all the other pieces.
Blaise leaned back slightly, a tinge of amused exasperation touching his mouth. "My mum? Not to incriminate anyone, but there are correlations there that are easy to notice if you know what to look for."
"Not to incriminate anyone, but I don't know what you're talking about." As stubborn as she wanted to be though, her bluff was not working at all. She could see it in his face.
"My point is," Blaise ignored that entirely, "I waited until you were back at the Ministry before approaching you. I thought it might lend weight to my argument when you see the difference in how people treat you. Not the pervy part, but the part where your unfortunate heritage is finally overcome."
Hermione ran the tip of her tongue along the front of her teeth, making an irritated sucking sound. Seriously? This was all just to insult her? She must have lost any semblance of sanity to sit here and listen to him.
He raised one hand, chuckling softly. "Hear me out, lioness. You do have several disadvantages being young, female, and Muggleborn. This new attribute of yours finally balances out all those negative preconceptions."
"Even if any of whatever you're talking about is true, I prefer to gain prominence on my own merit," Hermione said firmly. Perhaps it did bother her that Malfoy had a leg up even in a Shacklebolt-ran Ministry, but he was just one man. Many considerations had to be taken into account with those stuffy, old-fashioned wizards that still had a say.
"And you never will so long as you're blocked by the blinders of traditional values. Come on Granger, don't you want to show all those Muggleborns just entering wizarding society that there is no limit to what they can accomplish? You can make it so there is no limit."
Hermione had to take a breath, finally understanding exactly how seductive cunning and ambition sounded when presented properly. Seductive might be the wrong word though. No, it wasn't. "Zabini, why are you telling me this?"
She hadn't the foggiest clue what he got out of it yet, but had a feeling it would stretch her ethics to even hear it. He didn't seem the type to do anything for nothing. "Would I be able to get away with requesting a favor later?"
"No."
"I didn't think so. What about that I highly resent the backwards officials who raked every Pureblood over the coals after they drew up Wanted posters for the very people they turned around and gave medals to?" Though his tone remained light and pleasant, his eyes darkened in avarice.
"Quite a few of those officials were removed when Kingsley became Minister." At least, that's what she had reassured herself with for the past few years.
"Sometimes I wonder why you became an Auror instead of taking legislation in your own hands. Seeing your denial now puts it into perspective. "
Hermione scowled, the heat of anger rushing under her skin like Fiendfyre. The very air turned fraught with tension, and he seemed discomfited for the first time.
"Now Granger," he lifted a hand, pointing to a ring she hadn't given much attention to before. It was white-gold and the large stone set in the middle was the deep blue of the ocean. If she looked very close, she swore she could see the crash of waves…
He lowered his hand to out of her sight. "While I don't want to incur your wrath either way, I'm not going to become a befuddled simpleton around you. Isn't that a point in my favor? I'll tell you when you're being unreasonable, and I think you may need that right now."
She hated that he was right about that, at the very least. She was slipping off the rails and hadn't been able to bring herself to confide in her own friends. It was the embarrassing nature of the… issue. It would be helpful to have a rational mind around. "How do I know you wouldn't take advantage while I'm…fixing the problem?"
"I promise, my fondest wish is to see all their endeavors fail. You can call it revenge, but I call it justice." Curling his fingers just under his chin, he quirked an eyebrow. "Help me bring my Umbridges to their centaur herd."
She watched him for as long as he watched her, a different sort of natural heat pooling in her stomach. Was it wrong to be this turned on? Most likely.
"I'll think about it. I do have to get ready for an outing tonight, so…"
"Can't wait to hear from you." Blaise stood up, one hand twitching his robes slightly. He watched where her eyes went and gave her that eye-crinkling smile again. "Have a good night."
Mmph. She walked him to her front door, not taking note of his arse at all on the way. She had plenty of other problems to consider without a smooth-talking, ethically-flexible bloke insinuating himself into her life. She would not think about his services, blatant or hidden, while she was having a good time with her colleagues.
An entirely different phrase kept running around Hermione's mind as she stood in front of the fireplace with a handful of Floo powder. ...just too far gone...
Author's Notes:
D: My poor neglected readers! Thank you to all the reviewers and especially the last one for reminding me that I need to have priorities! Priority being that this strange sexy romp continue on its path for the enjoyment of all XD
Edit: Just reached 200 Followers, what! You lot are fantastic!
HMJ