CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Summary: Nine years after the war, Hermione's the Head of the Auror Department that specialises in dealing with Magical Creatures and fugitive Death Eaters that are loose in the Muggle World. With the fugitive Death Eaters no longer hiding in Britain, she's tracking rogue Death Eaters in the United States, which leads her to The Winchester brothers. The Witch and The Hunters are a dynamic trio that no creature, being or beast wishes to mess with, Magical or Supernatural. Hermione/Dean pairing. Rated M for a reason.

Disclaimer: I don't own original canon characters or events, just those that I create myself. Everything belongs to J.K Rowling and the creators of Supernatural. I am not making a profit posting this fanfic.

Page count: 10

Sam and Dean had left to go to the morgue and speak with the relatives of the victims, she had to stay behind as she received a message from one of her tenants complaining about a noise coming from the walls.

She had headed to the apartment and discovered there to be several Doxy's living in the walls. Hermione had the problem dealt with in less than an hour and she returned to her own apartment. Realising that it would probably be a while since the brothers returned, she headed to her potions lab and started to make batches of potions she was low on.

It was almost seven when they returned and since she had forgotten to give them the access code and card to her floor, she was alerted to someone trying to break in so she went down and collected them.

"Sorry about that," she said as they walked into her apartment. "I forgot that I didn't give you the code or card to get on this floor, I'm the only one that has access since it's the only apartment on this floor."

"How many apartments are there in this building?" Sam asked her curiously.

"There are twenty floors, there are no apartments on the ground floor and neither is there on the nineteenth floor, since that's where the house-elves reside and we're on the twentieth floor. The number of apartments on each floor varies. Some may have ten where others can have fifteen or sixteen. With magic the rooms are bigger on the inside, those that have families are given the larger apartments and those were there are only one or two tenants, they get the smaller ones, though each apartment has at least two bedrooms. I believe there are currently two-hundred and sixty-six apartments in total, I'd have to ask one of the house-elves to be sure." They spluttered and gawked at the news. "I wanted this place to be family friendly, a safe place where children can grow and explore. And believe me, they do explore," she chuckled.

"I have hidden rooms around the complex and some of them even I don't know what's in them. I asked the contractors to surprise me. I know at least one of the rooms is an indoor play area, I know one of them is an area where magical children can learn to ride brooms without risk of being caught by a muggle, and I know one of them is an area where they can play with and train their familiars, but I know there's also at least another thirteen hidden rooms." They were surprised by that news and she chuckled at them. "So, what did you discover?" She asked them, leading them over to the table in the kitchen and they took seats.

"Each of the victims' cause of death was different, one was strangled, another stabbed, another was shot, another hanged and the final one was pushed from a building," Sam explained. Hermione frowned.

"Aside from their physical appearance connecting them, they were all in their mid-twenties, an only child and their parents had died," Dean said. "They were all taken from the same night club and their bodies were dumped three days later, a couple of blocks from each other."

"I spoke to the relatives and friends," Sam piped up, "They said the same thing. They had last seen the victim leaving the club with a man with brown hair and brown eyes, approximately five-foot-eleven."

"The victims are taken every four days, the body is dumped three days later, and then another victim goes missing the next day. Judging by that timeframe, the next victim will be taken tonight," Dean said.

"Do you know what it is?" She asked.

"Demon," they both answered without hesitation.

"We visited the dump sites and yellow powder was discovered at the scene, not mention, it reeked of sulphur, and indicator a demon has used their powers," Sam shrugged.

"So you're going to set a trap?" She guessed.

"We planned on it, the only problem being neither of us are blonde, nor a woman."

"Well then, it's a good thing you have me."

"What?" They asked confused.

She rolled her eyes before tapping her wand to her head and in front of their eyes her hair turned from mahogany to blonde.

"I'm blonde with brown eyes and I'm five-foot-six. I'm twenty-six, I have no siblings and my parents are dead, I'm your perfect match."

"What?" Dean asked, not looking happy at the thought of using her as bait.

"I'm your bait, I'll lure this demon away from the club and when I do, you'll be waiting for me outside, simple," she shrugged.

"No, not simple; we're not putting you in danger."

Sam and Hermione both looked at him. "Shut up," they said in unison and they turned to each other.

"Well then, after dinner I better find myself a party frock, it seems we're going out tonight," as she said those words dinner appeared on the table and she smiled and shook her head when she saw the fixings of a roast dinner.

"They spoil me," she said with a fond smile.

~000~000~000~

They had been at the night club for the last two hours now and Dean had done nothing but glower at every man that went near Hermione, not that she knew since she had snuck them in and they'd gone their separate ways.

Sam was sat at a table, currently being chatted up by a redhead and brunette whilst Dean stood at the bar, his eyes glued to Hermione who was currently on the dance floor, lost in her own world as she swung her hips this way and that in time to the beat of the song, her eyes closed and her arms above her head, completely oblivious to what she was doing to him.

Her usual mahogany curls were no more, now they were blonde locks that she had straightened and left down, spilling over her shoulders. She wore a red spaghetti strap dress that clung to her frame and showed a small amount of cleavage. Her dress ended at her mid-thigh and on her feet she wore black heels.

Dean had spent the last two hours glaring at every man that approached her, and planning the murder of every man that touched her, and there had been many, but there hadn't yet been a brunette.

Dean gripped the bottle of beer in his hand tightly when he saw yet another man approach her, though this one was brunette. His hands went to her hips and he pulled her back into him. Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck and he bent his head, placing kisses against her ivory skin.

Dean glared menacingly, that should've been him! And it would've been if they weren't currently on a case.

His eyes locked onto Hermione's and subtly she shook her head, letting him know it wasn't the one they were looking for. He watched for another hour as men continued to paw at her and he was beginning to lose his patience, he'd seen Sam smirking at him in amusement more than once and he had to restrain himself from walking over to him and punching him in the face.

He also had to fend off the attention of many a woman that hit on him, usually he wouldn't have minded, but not only was he currently in the middle of setting a trap, it didn't feel right to him to flirt with another woman, when he was...Well, with this thing he had with Hermione. It didn't sit well with him, betraying her in that way and they weren't even together, it was frustrating!

His eyes landed on the brunette that was heading his way and he catalogued her features as she approached him. Dark brown hair that was straight and fell to her shoulders, dark blue eyes and tanned skin and wearing a black dress that showed off more than what was considered appropriate, but he realised that although she was good looking, he didn't think she was as pretty as Hermione. Usually he wouldn't have hesitated to charm her, but now he didn't want to.

His eyes caught Hermione's and she was dancing with the fifth brunette of the night, he knew, he'd been counting. His hands were all over her and his head buried in her neck. She subtly nodded and he stood up straight, deposited the empty beer bottle on the bar and walked away before the brunette woman could reach him. He made his way over to Sam and came up behind him, clapping him on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry to interrupt ladies, but I need to steal my brother back," he said, giving them a charming smile.

"Won't you join us?" The redhead asked, shamelessly batting her eyelashes and leaning forward so he could easily see down her dress.

"I'm afraid I can't," he said to the pouting woman and then he turned to Sam. "It's time," he said and Sam nodded and made his excuses and they both left the club and went to the back alley way, checking it was empty.

They had barely been there a minute when they heard a giggling and heels clacking against the ground. Sam and Dean ducked behind the bins and watched as Hermione pulled the brunette down the alley by his hand, right to where they had painted the demon trap earlier before they'd entered the club. If he were able to walk straight over it, he was human and they had the wrong person, if not, things had gone to plan, which they rarely did.

Hermione dropped his hand and walked backwards, beckoning the brunette with her finger. He smirked and stepped forward and right into the trap and it was just their luck that he wasn't able to leave. That almost never happened.

Drunken Hermione was gone, not that she was drunk, she'd had one drink to steel her nerves and then nothing else. She'd been told in the past that she was very good at playing the drunken damsel in distress and it came in handy, and once again, it had worked.

She stopped giggling, her smile dropped and she stopped stumbling, standing up straight with her legs spread slightly and her arms crossed.

"Idiot," she sighed and then she stepped back as Sam and Dean stepped out of the shadows and into view.

"Winchesters," the brunette sneered and his eyes suddenly turned black.

Hermione stepped back further and allowed the brothers to deal with the demon, whilst she cast a Silencing Charm and a Notice-Me-Not Charm around them in case anyone was to stumble onto them.

Hermione watched in fascination as Sam began the exorcism chant and before she knew it, the man was screaming and black smoke was pouring out of the his mouth and it was pulled down underground.

The man collapsed to the ground.

"That was a lot easier than usual," Dean commented and Sam stepped forward to check the man's pulse.

"He's dead," he informed them, though he didn't seem surprised.

"Well, I suppose it's for the best," Hermione spoke, "The police would've eventually figured out it was him and he would've been punished for something he had no part in, what do you want to do with the body?"

"Just leave it, someone will find it and it'll be dealt with, it's a good thing you changed your appearance, at least no one will be able to identify you as the last person to see him alive."

She nodded in agreement. "Right then, I want to get back and have a shower," she shivered at the thought of having all those hands on her and she noticed Dean glowering at the ground.

"Dean'll have to drive, he's only had one beer, I on the hand am surprised I'm not yet slurring," Sam said and she snorted at him as they headed out of the alley and back to the Impala.

They returned to the apartment before they knew it and Hermione kicked her shoes off and sighed in relief. "Right boys, I'm off to shower and then I'm going to bed, I'll see you in the morning," she spoke and she picked up her heels and walked to her room.

"How many deaths have you planned?" Sam asked knowingly.

"Twenty-three," Dean muttered darkly and he stalked off, leaving Sam's laughter behind him.

~000~000~000~

Hermione stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed and cleansed of all those grabby hands and she towel dried her hair before using a Drying Charm and her hair fell down her back in a tangle of ringlets.

She slipped on a pair of blue satin sleep shorts and the matching spaghetti strap top before brushing her teeth and heading out of her bathroom and to her queen-sized bed.

She flopped down onto it and looked around at her familiar surroundings. Her bedroom walls were lilac with silver accents, a soft lilac carpet covered the ground and silver curtains blocked out the light from the windows. Her bed was in the centre of her room against the back wall with a bedside table to the right. She had a small couch against the left wall with a table sat in front of it and a door on the right wall led to the en-suite bathroom, whilst the other led to her walk in closet, and floating candles moved about the room, the flames flickering and giving the only light in the room.

She'd missed her bed and she sighed happily as she climbed up the mattress and got under the covers, settling down for sleep when there was a knock at the door. She frowned and climbed out of bed, walking over to the door she opened it to see Dean pacing back and forth.

"When you're quite through with walking a hole into my lovely new floor, can you explain what it is you want that requires you to be at my door at this time of night?" She asked amused.

He stopped pacing at the sound of her voice and he just stared at her, she could see the emotions crossing his face but it was happening so quickly she couldn't decipher them.

"Well?" She questioned with an arch of her eyebrow.

She squealed in surprise when he stepped forward, pulled her into him and kissed her, quickly slipping his tongue into her mouth to twine and dance with hers.

He shut her bedroom door behind him and walked her back until she hit the bed and fell backwards. He followed her barely taking his lips from hers as they moved up the bed to the pillows. Her hands had long since buried themselves into his hair and his gripped at her hips under her top whist he was cradled in her thighs. He pulled his mouth from hers to trail kisses across her cheek and down her neck, sucking at her skin in order to leave a mark of possession.

"What's brought this on?" She mumbled, turning her head to give him better access and tugging on his hair.

"I've planned the deaths of twenty-three men," he muttered against her neck and she laughed breathlessly before gasping when he pushed himself against her. There wasn't much separating them, just her thin shorts and his thin pyjama bottoms, so she could easily feel the bulge that was beginning to make itself known.

"You were jealous," she commented, moaning when he bucked into her again.

"They had their hands on something that didn't belong to them," he muttered quietly, but she had heard.

She snorted. "I don't belong to anyone."

"The mark I've left on your neck says otherwise," he said smugly, moving to the other side of her neck to leave another mark.

"Shut up," she muttered, pulling him back to her mouth.

Her hands slipped from his hair and they found their way under his t-shirt, trailing the expanse of his hot skin and the muscle in his shoulders and back. He pulled back from her, sitting up and inadvertently straddling her legs as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. Though the minute his t-shirt had cleared his head, he knew something was wrong.

Hermione had stiffened beneath him, her eyes no longer looked lustful, but instead fearful; she had stopped breathing and was her body shook beneath him.

"What is it?" He asked her frowning.

"Please don't do that," she whispered, her voice sounding vulnerable and terrified.

His frown deepened before he realised why she had tensed up. It was something to do with Bowman. He quickly grabbed her and pulled her on top of him, so she sat straddling his lap and they faced each other.

"Take deep breaths," he encouraged her, his hands splayed on her hips under her top, his thumbs rubbing over her skin soothingly. "He's gone and he can't hurt you or anyone else," he said softly, watching as she slowly gained control of her fear and she relaxed against him, the fearful look disappearing from her eyes, now showing guilt.

"Sorry," she muttered. He gave her a lopsided grin. "I guess the moment's ruined now, huh?" She crossed her arms over her chest and avoided his eyes.

He raised an eyebrow at her before pulling her against him, bucking his hips and she gasped, feeling that she had definitely not ruined the moment.

"I wouldn't say so," he commented, an amused smile on his lips. "Just tell me what to avoid and we'll be fine."

She took a deep breath before closing her eyes and nodding. "Don't do what you just did, it reminded me of him, when I woke up that's what I saw. He was straddling me, shirtless and I couldn't move."

"Alright, I won't do that again," he promised. "Anything else?"

"Don't," she took another breath. "Don't put your hands around my throat."

He didn't need an explanation for that, he'd seen the bruises that'd been left on her and the reminder of them filled him with anger. Oh how he wished Sam had let him get at least one punch in.

"I would never do that," he said softly, "Is there anything else?"

He took his hands from her hips and brought them up to her crossed arms, pulling them away from her chest, before moving his hands back to her hips. She sighed and opened her eyes, locking her gaze with his and her arms came up to wrap around his neck.

"And don't pin my hands above my head."

He nodded. "What about on either side of your head?" He asked, the corners of his mouth were twitching and she couldn't stop herself from laughing at him.

"That's fine," she confirmed and he smirked at her, leaning forward to kiss her but she pulled back and he raised an eyebrow.

"I have scars," she told him.

"I have scars, too," he replied confused.

"I was a soldier and I suffered, I don't have a flawless body or unblemished skin. I have scars, ugly scars," she warned.

He held her gaze. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

She sighed and when he leaned in this time, she didn't pull back but met his lips with hers. The minute their lips touched it was as if they hadn't been interrupted and the lust they had been feeling filled them both, spurring them on. Dean's hands gripped her top and he dragged it up her body, she pulled back from him so he could lift it over her head and when it cleared her arms, she latched back onto his mouth.

He flipped them putting Hermione on her back and he was once more cradled in her thighs. He pulled back from her, his eyes locking on her bare breasts since she hadn't been wearing a bra. His eyes darkened and he ducked his head, flicking his tongue across her nipple and she moaned as his mouth closed around the peak, she was tugging at his hair harshly as she wriggled beneath him. He looked up at her, far too pleased with himself at the noises she was emitting and when he did that, he caught sight of a scar. He released her nipple and pushed himself up on to his hands so he could look down at her. She gritted her teeth and waited for the insults and the disgust, but it never came.

He was surprised to see the size of the scar, fucking hell, it put all of his scars to shame. He had never seen anything like it. It was large and thick, starting at her right shoulder and moving diagonally down her body, going through the valley of her breasts and under her left breast until is stopped near her left hip.

Why was she so worried about her scar? She was still beautiful, even more so because he knew what she had suffered to save the world, he knew what she had gone through to protect people from monsters.

He ducked his head once more, this time trailing her scar with teasing kisses, his tongue darting out teasingly and she gasped and wriggled underneath him, inadvertently moving her hips against his.

By the time he reached the end of her scar, he trailed his lips across her stomach, just above the waistband of her shorts and he hooked his hands into them, pulling them down. She shifted her hips to allow him to do so and he was surprised when he saw she wasn't wearing underwear, even more so when he saw that she was hairless, apart from the small triangle patch above her folds.

Now, what should he do?

Should he tease her the way she had him? Should he draw it out? Should he just give in to his desire?

He knew he was far too curious about what she had revealed, he wanted to know what happened to her when she had sex, how she was affected. It had been driving him insane.

Hermione grabbed him and pulled him up to her, crashing her mouth to his. Dean's hands roamed her body, feeling several raised scars under his fingers as he did so, but in all honesty, the scars didn't bother him, in fact, they had the opposite effect.

His hand skimmed her folds and she bucked up into him.

Okay, maybe he would tease her a little bit.

He slipped his fingers through her folds, nudging her nub and massaging her entrance, her wetness coating his fingers. She whimpered against his mouth when he slipped a finger into her and her hips moved against his hand, he could already feel her beginning to flutter around him and he had barely touched her. He slipped a second finger in and she clenched around him tightly, fuck! He hadn't realised she would be so tight.

He pulled his mouth from hers and buried his lips against the skin of her neck, nibbling and sucking. She was panting, her chest rising and falling and her breasts brushing his chest with every breath she took. He vaguely heard her cursing under her breath and her hands moved from his hair to grip at his shoulders. His thumb found her nub and he brought his lips closer to her ear.

"Just think, if I can work you up like this, imagine what I can do with my mouth," he whispered her words back to her.

A wave of pleasure Hermione had never felt before flooded through her and it made her want to cry. She gasped loudly, her nails bit into his shoulders and her head flew back as he felt her walls suddenly tightened around his fingers, trying to pull him in further. He pulled his head back to watch her pleasure filled face. Her mouth parted slightly, her face flushed pink and her eyes screwed shut. She was beautiful.

Her eyes opened and they revealed that her eyes were no longer human. They were still the same chocolate brown, only there was bright yellow slit down the centre, an accurate description would be that of a cat's eyes.

He wasn't sure if he should feel amused, surprised or creeped out, but Hermione distracted him, pulling his mouth down to hers and her hands moved over his back, around to his stomach and they moved lower. She fiddled with the waistband of his bottoms, before slipping her hand in and gripping his hardened length in her hand. He groaned into her mouth as she worked him over, and deciding that there had been enough teasing, he couldn't control his need to be inside her any longer.

He grabbed her hand and moved it away from his length, before pulling back to see that she looked less than impressed, even as her eyes glowed in the darkness of the room and the only light came from a few floating candles.

He smirked at her before quickly removing his bottoms and pouncing on her, crashing his mouth against hers. His length nudged against her and she moaned into his mouth, digging her nails into his biceps and shifting underneath him to bring her legs up and wrap them around his hips. Her hand snaked between them and she gripped his length, gave a few pumps of her hand and then guided him to her entrance, his tip nudging against her and she lifted her hips higher as he pushed forward and slowly sunk into her.

"Oh God," she muttered.

"Not a God, only human," he mumbled as he buried his face against her neck and her nails bit into him harshly, she gasped loudly and moaned beneath him, and he muttered against her neck as her walls pulled him in further, tightening around him.

"Warm...Soft...Tight," he mumbled incoherently as he gritted his teeth against the pained pleasure he was feeling.

"Pelvic floor exercises," she muttered in reply and he groaned when she deliberately clenched her walls around him.

He took a deep calming breath before pulling back and lifting himself onto his elbows to look down at her. Her eyes were closed tightly, her lips parted slightly and her skin was flushed a darker pink than before.

He pulled his hips back and slowly sunk into her, watching her face as he did so. He kept a steady rhythm, watching how each of his thrusts affected her, listening to the noises he was able to pull from her, feeling the way her body clenched around him every time he pulled back, as if trying to keep him inside of her.

He hissed when he felt her nails pierce the skin on his arms, feeling the warm droplets running down his skin. He thrust into her harder at that and she gave a loud moan and her eyes flew open. Her eyes were brighter than before, and although he knew he should be freaked out, he couldn't help feeling smug that he was the cause of it. He picked up the pace, thrusting into her harder and faster and he noticed how the sounds changed. Rather than gasping and moaning, she was now whining and whimpering.

He pulled her hands from his arms and remembering her words, he was careful to only pin them on either side of her head, before leaning down and taking her mouth in a possessive and consuming kiss, catching her whines and whimpers in the back of his throat.

Her hips moved against his and her legs slipped higher up his body, from his hips to his waist and he was able to move deeper inside of her. He groaned into her mouth when he could feel her walls beginning to flutter. He changed the angle of his hips, hitting a spot inside of her that had her tearing her mouth from his and flinging her head back. She tore her hands away from him and her nails went to his shoulders.

"Fuck!" He cursed when Hermione let out strange purring sound, her walls clamped around him tightly, to the point where it was hard to distinguish between pain and pleasure and her suddenly sharp nails raked down his back drawing blood.

His entire body felt as though it were on fire and the tightly coiled spring within in him snapped, his entire body tingling and his balls aching as he released inside of her.

If they had been paying attention they would've noticed the flames of the candles flaring up.

They would've noticed the furniture in the room shake.

They would've noticed the tattoo of runes that banded around their ring fingers, before disappearing from view, becoming invisible.

And they most certainly would've noticed Castiel stood in the corner of the room, with a deep frown on his face, before he disappeared.