As always you can follow me/ask me questions on my tumblr (username: misselylux) and the E version of the fic is on AO3 (username: missELY).

August 16, 2008

The heat from Harry's hand on Hermione's lower back bled through her clothes. She could feel the outline of each of his long fingers and his wide palm, even through the material of her sensible pencil skirt. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She did her best to maintain a pleasant but neutral expression on her face as they made their way through the halls of the Ministry. She hoped that she was doing a passable job presenting a professional front despite the electricity running up and down her spine.

As they passed through the atrium, Harry stuck close behind her, guiding her. Unlike most of her walks through the busy hub, the crowd seemed to part before them.

They reached the apparition point, and she tilted her head to look up and back at him. She admired the strong line of his jaw and how unruly his hair always seemed to be.

He wasn't watching her though. His head was on a swivel, observing the crowd. While one hand remained glued to her lower back, the other rested over here she was sure his wand was stored. His eyes were sharp, and she had the sense that he was completely aware of their surroundings. It was behavior she had seen in war veterans. What sort of life had he lived before coming to the Ministry?

He smoothed his hand from her lower back around to hold her hip securely and apparated them both to the outskirts of Diagon Alley.

Harry leaned down so that his face was level with her ear.

"I was thinking perhaps a wizarding restaurant? Draco has been going on and on about Vin Rouge. It's off of Diagon Alley, out of the way."

Hermione nodded without looking at him. His hand that was wrapped around her hip was making her stomach turn over. His fingers drummed out a beat against her hipbone and she pressed her lips together to stop from begging for more contact.

She turned to look at him, and he gave her a roguish wink and let her go. For a moment she felt an icy chill sweep over where he had touched her. But when his hand resumed its guiding place on her lower back her shoulders sagged slightly with relief; the chill being replaced by warmth, making her feel sheltered and safe. How strange it was to have her physical comfort so depend on the proximity of another person. She was at least reassured that she wasn't the only one with a powerful reaction, given the speed with which he resumed touching her.

He guided her down a quiet side street. There were a few people whose eyes tracked their movements, but the emptiness of the street meant passersby didn't accost them.

Though she still didn't have a subscription herself, she had started to pay more attention to the headlines from the Prophet and Witch Weekly. Partly because she was nervous that her face might soon grace the cover of those publications, but also out of curiosity. It appeared public interest in Harry and his personal life had not died down any since he had come back to the UK. She wouldn't be surprised if there was a photographer who snapped a picture of them sometime this evening, especially since they were in the Wizarding world.

He guided her into a nondescript building that Hermione would not have recognized as a restaurant. He held open the door to her and as she walked in she was greeted by an entryway bedecked in rich velvet and gold trimmings.

"Lupin for two," Harry said, voice deep and commanding.

Without a word the maître d' bowed low and ushered them to a private room towards the back of the restaurant. Hermione regarded their surroundings curiously. It looked like the restaurant was nothing but private rooms. There didn't seem to be any public seating, instead each party had their own room. This seemed like a restaurant she could never afford.

She had a flash of anxiety. How would she be able to afford even half of this meal? Biting her lip, she tried to do the mental math about her remaining food budget for the month. As long as this was less than her rent, she would probably be fine. Her raise had allowed her to build up a cushion. So as long as this wasn't a literal fortune, she could afford half without having to wash dishes in back to cover her tab.

Harry held out her seat, and she sat, face relaxing. It once again occurred to her how different their upbringings had been. Old-fashioned manners were just that to her, old-fashioned. But his courteousness was delightful and refreshing.

As Hermione perused the menu she noted with a little anxiety that no prices were listed. She swallowed down her nervousness and instead pasted on a pleasant smile.

"Would you mind if I ordered for us? Draco had very particular recommendations." Harry offered her a playful roll of his eyes and Hermione felt something warm and indulgent bubble up in her chest.

"Sure," Hermione said, closing her menu and placing it on the table, "I'm sure Draco was very specific."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You could say that," he said, putting down his menu was well.

The waiter came in and Harry ordered in perfect French.

Hermione's toes curled in her sensible flats.

"You speak French?" Hermione was embarrassed how breathless her voice sounded.

Harry grinned at her, a spark of mischief in his gaze. "Yes, Dad, as much as he hated his formal education, still made sure I had one as well. I can speak French, Italian, and Spanish, dance, and even fence."

"Dance? Like waltzing or modern?"

Harry chuckled and leaned towards her. "Waltzing. Though I also had a few tap classes at Remus' insistence."

"I never learned how to dance. We had mandatory lessons before the Yule ball, but I didn't learn much because I didn't go. I mostly read other books during those lessons" Hermione admitted with a wry grin.

"It's not hard, you just need to have the right teacher." Harry reached across the table and grabbed her hand. The contact of his skin on hers was warm.

"Oh?" Hermione teased, "and you're the right teacher?" She arched an eyebrow.

Harry turned her hand over and used his middle and pointer fingers to walk across her palm. It sent shivers up her spine. The drag of his calluses over the sensitive skin of her palm aroused her, and she resisted the urge to curl her hand around his.

"I'm sure I could show you all sorts of things," Harry said, tone deceptively light.

Hermione's tongue ran across her bottom lip and Harry's eyes followed the movement, something ravenous in his gaze. She relished the power that she obviously had over him.

The waiter broke the moment, coming by with a bottle of wine that looked expensive. The waiter offered a small pour to Harry who swirled the red wine around the glass. He looked like a sommelier as he admired the bouquet, before taking a small sip, and nodding at the waiter to pour.

Hermione brought the glass up to her lips, taking a small sip. She closed her eyes with a moan of appreciation at the taste of the wine on her tongue. It was rich and fruity without being sweet. It was decadent.

Harry's fingers that had been drawing shapes on her palm wrapped around her wrist and tightened just enough to get her attention.

Her eyes popped open, and she bit her lip. Harry's pupils were too wide for the level of light and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

"Those noises will get you in trouble," he said, voice a low rumble.

"Promises, promises," she responded, sounding sultry.

They maintained eye contact for a minute, but Hermione was the first to look away, cheeks pink. She felt a flutter of surprise in the pit of her stomach at her gall. She had regained some of her brashness she had back in Paris, but this flirtiness that Harry sparked in her was something new. She had dated before, both men and women, but she had never been so bold. She liked it, even though it also made her nervous.

"So," Hermione looked down, smoothing her napkin over her lap and gathering her nerves, "what have you been up to?"

Harry loosened his grip and stroked his thumb over her pulse point on her wrist, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. He gave a glance around their private room before grabbing his wand and casting a privacy charm.

"It's been a long week. Even though it's a Saturday, I was in all day. There is more going wrong with the Auror department than I thought. Fudge was back in my office today to talk to me about the Auror I'm trying to fire. There has also been an uptick in attacks against Aurors. Just this afternoon a team went to execute a search warrant, and someone attacked them. They knocked out both Aurors, and the suspects got away."

Harry huffed in frustration and used his free hand to push his hair back.

"That was the third time this month that a team has been accosted and injured."

"Do you think it's an organized effort?" Hermione asked, a frown creasing her brow.

A somber look passed across his face.

"I don't know. It seems like too much of a coincidence though."

The waiter interrupted them again, this time delivering the food. With a flick of his wand Harry lowered the privacy charm.

They ate the sumptuous meal as Harry regaled her with stories of Sirius' exploits and Harry's hijinks growing up. Her favorite story was when a very young Harry (with some help from Remus) turned Sirius' hair neon green for an entire month.

Hermione in turn shared the more lighthearted experiences she had at Hogwarts, like the time she had helped the Weasley Twins turn Umbridge's office into a swamp during her tenure as DADA professor. Harry's carefree hearty laugh made her laugh in return.

At the end of the meal Hermione reached for her purse, but Harry placed his hand on her forearm, stilling her motion.

"This is my treat, I'm the one who asked you out."

Hermione pursed her lips. "I don't want—I mean, I know that…" she trailed off with a frustrated sigh.

Harry watched her, tilting his head but remaining silent.

"I don't want you to think I'm just using you for money, for influence, for anything." She finally said determinedly.

A slow grin spread across his face. "I know you're not using me," he reached and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. "But this is on me. They have my account information on file. I'm the one who suggested the restaurant. Look, I know that you're not with me for money or whatever else. I feel the same—" Harry broke off, seemingly trying to find the right words, "the same heat you do. Every time you touch me I feel like I'm catching fire."

Hermione took a shuddery inhale. "Yeah, I feel that too."

He brushed his thumb over her plump lower lip. Feeling a burst of confidence, she flicked out her tongue to run it across the pad of his thumb. Harry shut his eyes and held his breath. She narrowed her eyes, smiling. She used the moment to draw his thumb further into her mouth, sucking on it lasciviously.

"Fuck," Harry bit out with a sharp exhale, "you're going to be the death of me."

Her cheeks were bright red despite her moment of courage. She released his thumb with an obscene sounding pop and Harry groaned softly.

"I hope not," she said, "this is only our first proper date."

"Not the first. We had breakfast. And then I invited you over to meet my family. This is at least the third."

Hermione's eyebrows raised in curiosity. "So meeting your parents was a date? Rather unconventional for a second date."

Rolling his eyes, Harry stood and offered her his arm to help her stand. "Yes, I count it as a date. I'm trying to amass as many dates with you as possible."

Hermione stood, placing her hand on Harry's forearm to help lever herself up.

"Why are you trying to amass as many dates as possible?"

Harry smiled down at her, softness in his eyes.

"Because I want to convince you to keep me."

Harry apparated her to the alleyway by her building. They walked in comfortable silence as they made their way up to her flat.

Once again they found themselves in front of her door. But this time, Hermione was determined that she wanted this evening to go differently than the previous one did.

So when they came to a stop in front of her door, instead of coming to a halt, she took out her key, opened the door and grabbed Harry's hand, pulling him inside with a smooth motion.

"I didn't want there to be any confusion," said Hermione, going up on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "I wanted you to come in this time."

Harry laughed and pulled her in, his arms going around her waist, "Well there is no confusion, I promise."

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders automatically. As he leaned down to place kisses, first on her forehead, then on both cheeks, and then he caught her mouth with his in a searing kiss.

The drugging effect of his kisses was immediate, her body softened, her curves molding against his hard planes. She felt heat at all the places they touched, her chest to chest, his fingertips pressing indents into the skin of her waist.

The whole world dissolved other than the two of them and she melted against him.

August 31, 2008

The next fifteen days passed in a blur. Hermione and her team spent each day examining all the rune dictionaries they could get their hands on, pouring over the scroll that Lucius had brought in, and performing very cautious tests on the box. At the end of every day she would meet with Harry, and more often than not they would have dinner. They alternated between wizarding and muggle restaurants. Though Hermione tried to pay, Harry never let her.

If they didn't have dinner, Harry would take her out to lunch or invite her to breakfast. They spent a good portion of their free time together. While their physical relationship hadn't progressed past that first night, she still shared many heated kisses with him. Though much to her disappointment, she never managed to get his cock back in her mouth again, his control now too tightly held.

Her mother remained in the hospital, and she visited several times a week, normally during lunch breaks or early in the morning before work. During every one of her visits her mother was asleep or non responsive. They had yet to transfer her to a rehabilitation facility, continuing to run tests and keep her under observation. It continued to be a relief to her, and she continued to have a twinge of guilt every time she walked out of the hospital doors feeling lighter.

But what was really troubling was the box. Each day felt like she took a step closer to having to just bring the pyramid and the box together. They didn't seem to learn anything new, and it was driving her mad. She could tell that it was frustrating everyone else on the team as well.

They needed to know what would happen with the pyramid, because if the answer was nothing, then they needed to move on to a new avenue of research, and they needed to have time to conduct that new research.

It was finally at the end of the month that things came to a head.

Hermione had been reviewing her notes on Aztec runic variations when a sharp, demanding knock sounded on the workroom door. She jumped, her head shooting up to look at the door. They rarely had visitors. Sometimes Harry would stop by, but he had stopped knocking long ago.

Standing, she waved her wand to straighten her notes and conceal anything confidential before making her way to the door, opening it slowly, one hand on her wand. It wasn't that she didn't trust the Ministry, but she didn't know what wards protected the location of the workroom. The last thing she wanted to do was let Sir Avery in accidentally.

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood a step back from the door, his sizeable frame taking up most of the doorway.

"Minister!" Hermione took a hasty step back, almost tripping over her feet.

At her exclamation, all the other occupants looked up from their tasks. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy smooth his hair into its usual perfect coif.

"Miss Granger," Minister Shacklebolt's voice was deep and slightly accented. He was resplendent in royal purple robes. "I hope you don't mind me stopping by."

"Not at all Minister." She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze steadily. "How can we help you?"

Minister Shacklebolt's mouth was a flat line, and she could see the dark circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted.

"His Grace, Director Potter, has been keeping me updated on your progress, or lack thereof."

Hermione pressed her lips together and exhaled sharply through her nose, resisting the urge to lecture the Minister of Magic about the research process and how the scientific method applied to magical artifact research.

"Yes Minister, while we have made good progress, we've not yet opened the box."

"I need not remind you of the urgency of the situation. There are only two months left, we are a third of the way through the allotted time." His tone was tense and clipped and his accent was more obvious.

Hermione did frown at him this time. "Minister, with all due respect, if you're here to try to urge us to work more quickly, I assure you, your trip was superfluous. We're working as fast as we can. Given what happened when the Unspeakables tried to open the box the first time, it's prudent that we take precautions so as not to accidentally blow up the Ministry or ourselves." Her voice ended sharp and slightly more shrill than she wished.

Sighing heavily, the Minister gave her a grim smile. "My apologies Miss Granger, I am aware of all you and your team have accomplished. However, there are...factions that are not happy with the secrecy surrounding the delay in voting, and your project generally. There is pressure being exerted on myself and on the Ministry to disclose why the voting procedure failed and to allow others access to you and your team."

"I understand Minister," she said, feeling a coolness on her right that she associated with the approach of Quince. "We're working as quickly as we can. We know the urgency and appreciate the ability to operate without the scrutiny of the entire Wizarding world for the time being."

"Minister, if I may suggest something?" Malfoy's voice sounded from her left. She looked over, both he and Nagnok had approached. Malfoy had a smile on his face that Hermione recognized from when he used to butter up professors at Hogwarts. "My mother, along with some of her allies like Lord Black, the Earl of Cador, Lord Nott, the Baron of Erec, and Lord Longbottom the Earl of Kay, may be willing to help the Ministry keep these...factions in line."

"Lord Malfoy, yes, that would be helpful." Minister Shacklebolt's eyes narrowed, and his expression wary.

"Additionally, Minister, I am sure that the Goblins have a vested interest in keeping this research quiet for now. King Ragnok is impressed with the work that Miss Granger has done so far. Perhaps our King might be persuaded to exert some pressure to keep your dissidents in line," Nagnok said.

Minister Shacklebolt's eyebrows shot up. For a politician, he had a terrible poker face, thought Hermione, mentally taking note. Either that, or the Goblins offering their help really was that shocking.

"My deepest thanks to the Goblin Realm and King Ragnok. I will take it up with the Goblin representative." Minister Shacklebolt said, offering Nagnok a deep nod.

Minister Shacklebolt's attention turned back to Hermione. "I again apologize for the intrusion, I wanted to ensure that you were aware of the urgency of the situation, but I can see that you are. Thank you for your time."

Hermione murmured her thanks to the Minister for stopping by and ushered him out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him her heartbeat sped up. Had she just told off the Minister of Magic? Had she really just done that? He breath came in shallow gasps. Her courage had followed the Minster out the door and she eased herself into a seat at one of the worktables, putting her head between her knees, hoping not to pass out.

"Good job Granger," said Draco, clapping her on the back.

She whimpered in response.

"I didn't know you had it in you, standing up to the Minister like that. I never saw you say so much as boo to any authority figure ever. Who knew that your backbone had grown so stiff?"

Her head shook back and forth and a strained and manic laugh emerged from her lips. Her heartbeat slowed, and she sat up cautiously.

"Merlin, why did I do that?" She asked to no one in particular, her voice hoarse.

"You were quite right to do so," Quince drifted over towards her again. "It was clear he came here in frustration and that his comments were out of line."

Hermione nodded, standing gingerly. At least this moment of panic had lasted a shorter time than her one in the elevator in front of Harry had.

"Well, since we just assured the Minister we're working as hard as we can, we should get back to work," she dusted her hands on her sensible skirt and returned to her runic analysis, the other members of her team returning to their tasks as well.