This chapter contains a bit of a trigger so I thought I best mention it now. Atticus gets a bit creepy in this so if you don't want to read about him, skip to the second part of the story.
So looking forward to writing their first proper sex scene where they can finally take their time with each other!
I hope this chapter sets the scene nicely.
Love always to the many people who are still following, favouriting, commenting and messaging me about this story, they all warm the cockles of my heart :)
As always, all names, places and everything in the Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling. The theme is all my own meandering mind.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"The Owl's Rest, Hogsmede.
Saturday.
2.30pm.
D.M"
"Hoping you'll be a bit more talkative during our meeting than you are in this letter.
I'll be there.
H.G-W"
"I'm afraid not. I was hoping my mouth would be busy elsewhere.
Looking forward to it.
D.M"
"So, how are things coming along with the Bowtruckle case?"
"Things are progressing well, thank you. We met with the Muggle developers last week."
Hermione found a map of the woodlands her team had visited early last week and pushed it along the glossy wooden table towards her boss, Mister Hansell. He was an elderly wizard who had been the Head of the department longer than Hermione had been alive and she held a high amount of respect for him. He was very rarely in the Ministry these days, however he was more than happy leaving the department in Hermione's capable hands.
Mr Hansell looked down at the parchment before him as Hermione tapped it once with her wand. About 40 small red dots appeared on the map as Hermione continued to talk.
"The red marks indicate the confirmed dwellings of a host of Bowtruckles." She tapped the map again. "The blue marks indicate the positions of the houses the Muggle's hoped to build. As you can see, the housing development would have been disastrous to the Bowtruckle's habitat."
Mr Hansell nodded, stroking his long beard between his fingers. "I notice my dear that you speak in the past tense, does this mean…"
Hermione grinned across at the man and nodded her head.
"Yes Sir. A simple Lutulentus charm by some of my colleagues while the developers were kept talking. Turned the land into a muddy bog wherever they set foot. As there had been very little rain in the area recently, they were convinced the site clearly had a bad drainage issue and have decided to abandon their plans."
The old man laughed and pushed the map back towards Hermione.
"Brilliant. The Lutulentus charm, I haven't used that spell since I was a boy! Whose idea was that, may I ask?"
Hermione was just about to explain when Atticus leaned forwards in his chair and interrupted her. "It was mine Sir, it was a favourite spell of mine back in Hogwarts. I used to use it when…times called for it."
Mr Hansell chuckled, as Atticus looked a mixture of proud yet embarrassed.
"It was a very Slytherin tactic, but in this case it worked in our favour." Hermione avoided looking at Atticus. She hadn't spoken to him since last night and even being in the same room as him now during this departmental meeting was irritating her. Thankfully a few other members of her team were sat between them so she didn't have to be too close to him.
"A Slytherin tactic indeed. You've become quite a fan of Slytherin's recently, haven't you Hermione?" Atticus turned to face her, a smug grin plastered on his face. Hermione gripped her hands together on top of the table and stared at the man opposite her.
"Meaning?"
Mr Hansell chuckled more.
"Who wouldn't be a fan of a member of Slytherin house when they manage to pull off a charm like that when the time calls for it. My boy, you have just managed to save an established host of Bowtruckles who have been there for decades! Fabulous work!"
Atticus nodded at the praise, yet didn't stop staring at Hermione throughout, grinning at the blush of indignation that appeared on her face when he had mentioned Slytherin.
He had done a little research of his own on Hermione's friend at the bar. He had obviously heard of the Malfoy name, it was synonymous with corruption, bribery and, of course, Death Eaters. What he didn't know though was that Hermione and Draco were "old friends" as he had put it at the bar. All the books about the famous Golden Trio had noted the clear hostility shared between them and Malfoy whilst at school. Potter had helped to clear his name at his trial, but he didn't see how this made him a friend to Hermione.
Still, if merely mentioning the Slytherin to her elicited this reaction, he was sure he could use it to further his pursuit of her. He knew she was married, but he didn't care. Weasley meant nothing to him personally, and he desperately needed to have a piece of Hermione, so he wasn't going to let a simple issue of a husband stop him.
Everyone was suddenly standing to leave; the meeting had obviously finished whilst he was musing over his thoughts. He stood, shook Mr Hansell's hand and pulled his robes back on. Soon he and Hermione were the last two in the meeting room.
"What the fuck are you trying to achieve, Atticus?" Hermione gathered the papers together on the desk, arranging them into a neat pile as the door shut after the last person.
"I don't have the foggiest idea what you're talking about." He approached her slowly, perching on the desk next to her and smiling.
"Don't play games with me. That stunt at the bar, going through my files, turning up at my house, bringing Malfoy up in conversations. What's your problem?"
He sniffed out a laugh through his nose, "It's interesting isn't it, what you can find out about a person. I didn't know you were friends with a Death Eater."
Hermione swallowed, not really sure where Atticus was going with this. "I'm not friends with a Death Eater," she replied, shaking her head.
"Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater was he not?"
"Emphasis on the was, but yes."
"And did Malfoy not describe himself as an 'old friend' of yours?"
Hermione thought back to their conversation at the bar. "I suppose he did yes. What has this got to do with anything?" She took the papers and held them close to her chest, looking entirely bored and frustrated by this conversation.
"I'm sure your husband would be ecstatic to hear you've been hanging out in bars with a Death Eater, Hermione." He put emphasis on the word 'husband', as if hoping this would some how strike a nerve with her.
Taking a firm step closer to the man, Hermione spoke in a threatening whisper.
"Malfoy and I were not hanging around. He was in the bar with his friends when he noticed I was being hounded by a creepy arsehole who wouldn't leave me alone. He stepped in and removed the problem, even though I was more than capable of handling you on my own. Now, I still don't know what you're trying to get at here Atticus, but I'm too old to play silly little games. If you dare speak to me like this again, or put me in this position, I swear to Godric it'll be the last thing you do in this department."
She jabbed him aggressively in the chest with her forefinger, before turning on her heel and heading to the door. She began to open it when suddenly a hand came from behind her and slammed it shut.
Atticus kept his hand on the door, trapping her in the room; the other he placed on the wall to the right of Hermione's head.
She was trapped between his two large arms. She refused to look at him, instead focussing on his arm to her right.
He ran his nose slowly up her neck, feeling his hot breath assault her throat as he got to her ear. It made her skin crawl.
"There are many positions I would like to be putting you in, Hermione. And, believe me, I'd like to see you try to handle me without your wealthy little Death Eater friend, or your idiotic husband getting in the way. Now, I know you're just playing hard to get…"
Hermione shuddered at the feel of his mouth on her earlobe, and spun around to face him. His lips twitched into a grotesque grin at the witch imprisoned in the space between his arms.
With no real space to reach for her wand, Hermione instead reacted in the only way her body was telling her to. She raised her leg quickly, forcing her knee into Atticus' crotch. The man dropped his arms in a split second, covering himself with his hands as he muttered "fucking bitch" in a pained groan. Hermione pushed him away from her, drew out her wand and aimed it at his chest.
"Now you listen to me Atticus. You are going to go back to your office. If you want the opportunity to work anywhere ever again I want a hand written letter of resignation to appear on Corah's desk by the end of the day. If she doesn't receive one, I can guarantee it will not only be the end of your working career, but the end of your days as a free man. I know a lot of people that could make life very difficult for you."
"You wouldn't fucking dare." He sneered up at her from his kneeled position.
"Wouldn't I? My best friend is head of the Auror department, and as you were so keen to point out today, I'm friends with an ex Death Eater now too."
The sheer rage Hermione was feeling fuelled her natural magic that was coursing through her body. It channelled down into her wand, causing Atticus to moan in pain as her wand wordlessly seared a hole through his robes and shirt, leaving behind a small circular burn on his chest.
"I wouldn't bloody try me, Atticus." With a final glance down at the man who was having a mental battle over which injury to his body hurt more, one hand cradling his balls and the other pinned to his chest, Hermione finally opened the meeting room door and slammed it shut behind her.
It was times like this that Draco wished he still smoked. He'd picked up the Muggle habit during his travels, finding it helped him to relax ever so slightly. The minute he'd returned home though, Astoria had insisted he gave up instantly, claiming that the smell was intolerable and she wouldn't be seen out with him partaking in the uncouth habit.
"Your room is ready Mister Malfoy. I've put you in the small meeting room at the back, I hope you find this acceptable?"
A squat witch appeared through a wide oak lined doorframe to the right of the bar. It was relatively quiet here at this time of day; only an old Warlock sat by an empty fireplace, talking animatedly to what must be an enchanted piece of parchment. Draco had been leaning against the bar awaiting the landlady's return and nodded as she finished talking.
"And is this the guest in question?"
The witch looked around him and Draco turned to see Hermione walk into the nearly empty pub. She squinted as her eyes got used to the dim room, falling at last on Draco and blushing slightly.
"Yes, Mrs Granger-Weasley has agreed to speak to me about alternatives to using House Elves as servers at my upcoming wedding. I'd appreciate your privacy regarding this meeting, I'd like for it to be a surprise for my Fiancé. She is in full agreement that modern houses do not need House Elves and this will be a pleasant surprise for her on the day."
"Of course, Mr Malfoy, of course. My lips are sealed. Is there anything either of you two need? Would you like me to show you to the meting room?"
Draco looked at Hermione, and she swallowed under his gaze, but shook her head, tucking a curly tendril that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear.
"We're both fine for refreshments thank you, and I believe we can find the way to the meeting room, thank you though. This way Mrs Granger-Weasley."
He placed both hands behind his back and led the way, Hermione smiled at the witch and followed the Pureblood up the stairs that ran behind the back of the bar. They walked in silence, the only sounds that could be heard were the creak of the old rickety wooden stairs as they ascended the floors and walked along the landing. Hermione was certain he could hear her heartbeat; it felt like it was going to launch itself out of her throat.
Draco stopped abruptly and Hermione walked straight into him.
"Throwing yourself at me are we Granger?" He whispered through a smirk as he unlocked the door.
He pushed the door open and signalled for Hermione to walk through ahead of him. The room was simple; oak lined aside from a large window on the back wall that overlooked a dingy back yard. There was a large wooden desk in the centre of the room, two simple chairs faced each other on opposite sides of the table and a small fireplace was knocked into the wall on the left. Hermione strolled over to the window and looked over the scene below her.
"Lovely view…" She commented dryly, turning to face Draco who was locking the door behind them via magic.
"You and I both know neither of us came here for the view. Although, the view I currently have is very pleasing to my eye."
He approached her slowly, hands in his trouser pockets. He stopped when he was centimetres from her; his eyes trailing from each eye to her lips and back again. She licked them subconsciously and inhaled a stuttery breath. She didn't know why she was suddenly nervous; she had been looking forward to this little meeting since she'd last seen him. Perhaps it was being this close to him after last time.
"I see you managed to find somewhere with a desk then." She stared into his eyes, never breaking the contact. He smiled and rubbed his thumb gently over her bottom lip, grinning internally as he heard her breath hitch at the contact.
"It has more than a desk, Granger."
He finally stepped away from her and waved his wand at the oak lined wall to their right. A solid door appeared before her and he pushed it open slowly as Hermione walked, open-mouthed towards the mystery room. Inside were a large four-poster bed, a chest of drawers and another door which she assumed led to an ensuite bathroom.
"Malfoy, this is…amazing. How did you..?" His lips grazed her neck from behind and she let out a small moan, his arms trailing around her stomach.
"I used to come here all the time with Blaise. This place is off from the main street of Hogsmede so not many people bother with it. We used to crash here shortly after the war if we'd had too many drinks and couldn't Apparate home. As it's officially down as a meeting room, it hid the fact that the Malfoy heir was drinking away his problems. As far as any nosey individual was concerned, I was simply having a meeting with my friend in private, when really we were both hung-over to fuck, waiting to be sober enough to head into Hogsmede and buy a sober up potion."
She pulled away from him and headed back into the room with the desk. She removed her robes and hung them on the door, turning to see Draco leaning in the doorway between the two rooms.
He looked devilishly handsome.
For some reason he was wearing a thin tie with his white shirt today, his trousers deliciously tight as always. She approached him again, their eyes never leaving one another's. Her small hand reached out and adjusted the tight knot under his collar.
"I can see you've dressed appropriately for this meeting Mister Malfoy."
"A Malfoy is never knowingly underdressed Madam. I hope to Merlin you have also followed the dress code which I requested of you during our last meeting?"
Without saying a word, Hermione walked backwards till her legs hit the desk behind her. She used her arms to push herself up so she could sit upon it, and crossed her legs. Her tight grey pencil skirt rose slightly up her thighs, and Hermione pushed it up higher still, revealing the black lacy tops of her stockings.
Malfoy's eyes drank in the sight and swallowed it down as if he hadn't quenched his thirst in weeks.
He approached her; tantalisingly slowly till he was within touching distance and she uncrossed her legs. Reaching out for his tie, he growled as she puled him in between her thighs and whispered in his ear.
"My wand is in my robes, so if I were you I'd put up a silencing charm. I've made a mental list of the things I want to do to you, and nowhere on that list does it involve either of us being quiet."
"Put your hands on my knees, she said, and think of me as a book you've been dying to read." Michael Faudet