This chapter is dedicated to Nik, my beta, sweet Hufflepuff friend, and the reason I'm still able to continue on this winding, twisting tale. 3333
Huge thanks to my Alpha/Betas NuclearNik and Monica03, without them I would be a mess and this story would be a disaster. Also a huge thanks to my Omegas (pre-readers) MarshmallowMcGonagall, QuinTalon, and Weestarmeggie!
To everyone who reads, subscribes, bookmarks, comments/reviews, follows, reblogs, likes, etc: I appreciate you all SO VERY MUCH.
The one overshadowing positive in the face of a week of frustrations was that Hermione felt better than she had in a long time, closer back to what she would term normal. She and Draco slept in the same bed every night and as a result, she'd felt more well-rested mentally, emotionally, and physically than she had since she was seventeen.
Sharing sleeping space with Draco was something that she'd be hard-pressed to do without now that she'd gotten a good taste of it. No matter where on the bed she seemed to fall asleep, she always woke up at some point with him wrapped around her, their legs often entangled and his face buried in her hair as if he were guarding precious treasure.
If she had to extract herself to slip off to the loo or get a drink he almost instantly woke up, eyes darting around as if looking for someone or something that was trying to steal her away. When she returned to bed, he would immediately pull her back into his embrace, and she would stroke his hair and back until his heartbeat and breathing slowed to a steady, restful pace that indicated sleep.
When sleep was harder to come by she was able to study his face in the moonlight, watching as his facial expressions morphed in dreams. Sometimes she'd be able to gently smooth out the furrowed eyebrows that she could only guess came as a result of unpleasant dreams seeing as they usually resulted in her being squashed more firmly against him. Her favorite times were when his lips would quirk at the edges accompanied by a contented little sigh. Those were the times she felt most at peace, when they were cocooned in their nest with no outside nonsense pressing in.
In their working hours was when the frustration set in. It was like chasing ghosts. Trying to hunt down any information beyond the basics for the Death Eaters and their families that fled the country or had completely gone to ground seemed nigh impossible. Draco had made a list of the families that had stayed and repented or at least pretended to, and he'd begun to ponder which were most likely to be harboring fugitives. A separate list was being made of all residences that had fallen empty or abandoned that definitely needed investigating. He'd made varying other lists but had deemed them of less importance.
Draco was set to meet with Robards and give a report of their progress so far and give their theories. They'd decided that it'd be safest if Hermione didn't attend. Upon her insistence that he take copious notes, he promised the memory and a Pensieve instead. She didn't argue. She could only hope that Robards took all of their evidence and extrapolations seriously and would at least send a few teams out to investigate some of the abandoned homes.
It made Hermione's skin crawl to think of how much support for the Darkness there still was out there, silently wishing her and others like her dead, degraded, defiled for daring to step foot into the Wizarding World and staying there. Wherever these people had slipped off to, they were now being harbored by either old friends or family, or perhaps they'd taken over some unsuspecting family's estate and were working from a base of operations like they had with Malfoy Manor in the last war. They hadn't even begun theorizing a number of people involved seeing as there could also be support from abroad present as well. It had to be sizable, regardless of the origins.
There was one place Hermione knew they could find a wealth of information, and that was Gringotts. The goblins held no regard for wizarding law and also had branches in other countries. As long as one had their key, a witch or wizard could access their vault or account information regardless of how much of a fugitive they were with no worry that the law would be called on them. Hermione had barely been able to get her account back with them after she'd released that dragon, and Harry had been the only reason she'd been successful on that front. She was reluctant to push her luck there, knowing that it'd be the last time she'd ever be allowed access if she stuck one toe out of line, then she'd really be in a bind when it came to the matter of money and reputable banks.
Draco had toyed around with the idea of doing another tarot reading soon, but Narcissa was off globetrotting with Andromeda for the next few weeks. Seeing as he had access to the family vaults, he was tempted to get the extra deck and do it with the two of them with him being the conduit. Hermione was going to have to get her mind right if they were going to attempt it, however—at least in regards to tarot itself.
There'd been another point of frustration she hadn't anticipated: they'd explored each other, dragging the other to new orgasmic heights every night, and yet still, during the day she found her eyes straying over to him as he worked. She stared at his long, skilled fingers gripping his quill as he wrote in his neat, elegant script, having to force her eyes away. The ripple of the muscles in his forearms called to her from her periphery as he squeezed a rubber ball while in thought, his fingers rippling as they moved in a pattern. His mouth was equally a source of distraction as he sometimes mouthed the words he wrote, testing them out before deciding to leave them. Pearly white, sharp teeth would sometimes nibble at the corner of his mouth and occasionally his dusky pink tongue would run across his bottom lip. All it did was bring to mind instances of the last two weeks that left her a screaming, trembling mess.
Lunchtime had become a challenge in and of itself, when work was no longer a distraction for sixty slow minutes. Whereas their lunches had once been the only bright points in her week, now they were torturous. Hermione was a firm believer in being careful with how one behaved in the workplace and what limited affection belonged there—that is to say, very little of it. Since they'd begun to explore their sexual appetites, however, that principle had begun to be put into question, and she had to decide if it still held across the board or if perhaps a few rules could be bent in the privacy of their office.
The sight of him wearing black-rimmed, rectangular glasses to read was distracting in and of itself, often causing her to shift about and clench her thighs together tightly. More than once, to her utter embarrassment, she'd been staring at him while going off into some dirty thought involving him dressed like a librarian, a professor, or businessman. When she'd come back to reality, he'd been sitting there with his chin cupped in his palm, fingers curled in, pressing the backs against his lips as he stared back at her. It instantly turned her into a blushing, babbling mess and resulted in her stomping off to the loo just to escape the room and his heady presence for five minutes.
She splashed water on her face, performed cooling charms, took focus enhancing potions, and none of it seemed to do a damn bit of good. As soon as she re-entered the room and took sight of him again, her brain abandoned ship to do what it wanted. The most frustrating part was he didn't seem afflicted in the same manner. He was actually getting work done instead of openly staring like some love-struck fool fourth-year.
Absently, she noticed he was wearing a smoke-colored suit today that complimented his gray eyes beautifully. She had what she thought was a secret penchant for it, but perhaps he'd caught on. She thought over the last week and realized he'd worn all of her favorites throughout it. More than once she'd slipped into a fantasy of sucking him off in that very chair.
Eventully, she couldn't take it anymore. "Why is it that I'm the only one between us making a fool of themselves?"
It took him a minute to return from deep thought and reply, his eyes unfocused and then sharpening and curious when he was back present again. "Granger, you could say that I adapted quickly at the beginning of Fourth Year when Pansy and Theo caught me staring at you in class repeatedly. Pansy thought I was enamored with you, and she was right, but that told me that I'd best bury it for the time being and try with you if we both made it through the war. If Voldemort had suspected…" He shuddered with a hint of fear. "There'd been nothing he wouldn't do to use me for his purposes once I'd come into my inheritance. So, believe me, there was a lot of me secretly staring at you over the years any chance I got when I knew I could get away with it."
"But why now? I've been able to mostly contain my behavior at work so far." She huffed and threw her quill in its jar with the rest of her collection.
"It comes back to the mating bond being unfulfilled. It's pulling us towards one another in whatever ways it can. Again, I'm just more practiced at suppressing it. Although, if you lighten up on those little rules of yours, I could help you out." His eyebrows bounced as his lips curved into a devilish smirk.
Her breath was robbed from her lungs, whooshing out of her in a gust before she swallowed hard. She could get her brain back on track and maybe not waste the second half of the day after the lunch hour was over if she gave in. On the other hand, if she did, wouldn't that make her a hypocrite to betray her morals so easily over temptations of the flesh? Wasn't that just the first step in the slippery slope down?
A warm sensation along the left side of her face and neck interrupted her mental debate, and she knew immediately what it was. He was watching her intently to see what answer she would land on. Her chair began to roll, and she whipped her head over to find that he was indeed pulling her towards him. Tempting as it was to put her heels down, she was more curious as to what he planned to do next.
When their chairs were arm to arm, he stole her hand in both of his and began to massage it gently. "Granger." His voice was little more than a purr. "This is a unique situation, and I would certainly not think any less of you for wanting to have your needs met. Truth be told, I've wanked to the fantasy of having you bent over my desk more than once, but that's beside the point. I've watched you struggle all week and get ever more frustrated because of it. Let me put you to rights one time here, and if you don't like it, or you become too uncomfortable, we'll stop and I'll never suggest it again. Promise."
She flushed when he talked about wanking to the thought of her, as she always did, but chewed her lip while thinking it over. It was doing nobody any bit of good for her to stumble through part of the workday getting very little done while her mind was overtaken by biological impulses. Maybe if she scratched this itch, she could finally be productive. He'd had to distract her every evening when all she could do is sit and think of how she'd wasted nearly all day at work, accomplishing very little aside from fighting with her own brain and body. After a few more minutes of waffling, she looked up and gave him a shy nod.
His mouth quirked at the corner. "I'll take care of warding the room and add in a little extra in case someone doesn't get the point. You undress down to those stockings only."
While he moved to take care of the door and silencing issues, she stripped down with trembling fingers, slipping her knickers off last and placing them on top of the pile of neatly folded clothes in her chair. He returned to his seat a moment later and widened his knees, glancing at the ground between his black, dragonhide boots before flourishing his wand. After a complicated swirl, a thick, green, velvet pillow appeared. His eyes went from her to it as he tucked his wand back in its holster.
She slid over between him and his desk, slowly dropping to her knees on the pillow and resting her hands on top of her thighs as she sat back on her heels.
Draco studied her for a moment before leaning forward and cupping her face in his hands. "We need to talk a minute first." Her breath hitched, and he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs until she nodded. "Did you know you talk in your sleep when you're severely stressed?"
She blinked and froze. Harry had mentioned it a time or two but never went into detail. "I wasn't aware it was a regular thing."
"You've talked progressively more and more as the week has worn on. I'd hoped that wearing you out before bed with enough orgasms would do the job, but last night you apologized for not doing enough at least twenty times before I was able to get you settled back down and asleep." His thumb brushed across her lips as he stared down into her eyes. "The episodes have lasted less than a half-hour, and they haven't seemed to affect you until around ten in the morning. You've gotten distracted all week by no fault of your own, but in turn, you've carried around guilt with yourself over having accomplished so little."
He wasn't wrong. The guilt flared in her chest, and she twisted her fingers in her lap. "I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize to anyone. What you need to do is let it go and move forward. We're taking care of things right now, and then you'll be able to focus. I would have suggested it earlier in the week but I didn't think you were quite ready."
"I have a hard time just letting things go." The words wanted to stick on her tongue; it wasn't something she enjoyed admitting.
"I know," he whispered.
"Will you help me?" Her heart picked up as the words slid from her mouth. She didn't know exactly what she was asking for, but she needed relief from the situation.
He leaned down and brushed his nose against hers before kissing her gently. "I'll always help you. You have but to ask for it." The words brushed across her lips. A shudder slid down her spine, and she whimpered as he claimed her mouth. A moment later he pulled back, releasing her face and sitting back in his seat. "Sit in my lap."
Using his thighs for leverage, she rose and sat on one thigh, letting him drape her legs across his other, arranging her as he pleased. He gripped her waist with one hand while watching her intently. "I want to try something. I know this is new and we've yet to explore it, but I remember what you've shown me, and I think this will help alleviate your guilt more quickly, like lancing a boil rather than continuing to let it fester."
Her heart picked up. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to spank you. Not because I'm angry, because I'm not. Not to punish you in any way, because it isn't about that. I'm going to do it because you need something in order to let go. You've mentally flagellated yourself all week and have gotten nowhere. I can't bear to watch you wear yourself down any further, so I'm going to step in and take care of you." He pulled her in for a brief kiss. When she didn't protest the idea he continued, "Place yourself across my lap."
She blinked and stared at him a moment until he raised a brow, and she realized he was serious.
She was going to let him spank her for her shortcomings, and it felt surreal. His words from the weekend came back to her about being sorry if he had to repeat himself, so she slid to her feet and made her way to the side of his chair, allowing him to guide her small frame down across his lap. She'd never done anything like this before.
He felt large and solid beneath her, his hands stroking along her spine and the backs of her thighs. "Good girl. Remember, this is not me punishing you. This is me helping you let go, yes?" A shiver raced up her spine at those words, and she nodded as she peeked over her shoulder at him, watching as he caressed her skin. "If at any time it's too much, just say red."
Nodding again, she let out a shuddering breath as she dropped her head back down. The warmth of his hand left her before it came down sharply on her right cheek, and she gasped. The second blow had her hands scrabbling to hold onto the chair frame. It was thrilling and anxiety-inducing at the same time as her skin stung and heated.
She mentally counted to fifteen before he picked up the pace, and she began to squirm on his lap. A hand pressed firmly against the small of her back and she stilled under it. Her mind went over the past week, and she realized she really should have asked him for help of some sort by Wednesday at the latest. She'd wasted so much time, and now there was no telling how much ground their adversary had gained. She deserved every single strike for her failure. The stinging in her bum and upper thighs increased, her skin nearly on fire before the first tears began to drip from her eyes. Then it was as if the floodgates opened as the guilt she'd held tightly inside bled out of her through her tear ducts and wet sobs as she finally let it go.
At some point, he'd stopped spanking her and had begun to run his hand up and down her spine soothingly. He gathered her up and arranged her in his lap, stroking her back and the side of her thighs as she melted against him and cried into his neck. The fine, soft material of his trousers felt scratchy against her heated, sensitive skin and she quickly learned it was best to stay still.
Finally, when her tears subsided, he tilted her head back and cleaned her face with a handkerchief. Gentle gray eyes assessed her carefully. "Feel better?"
Surprisingly enough, she no longer felt like Atlas holding up a world of guilt over things she was learning to deal with. "Yes, thank you. That was surprisingly effective."
He kissed her again, pulling her tight against him. "I'm not particularly into that activity unless we're talking about doing it for pleasure or fantasy fulfillment, but I'll always do what you need. Next time let's get well ahead of the game." Fingertips traced along her jaw. "Your stubbornness is something I've always admired, but not when it's to your detriment. If you don't like doing things here and need to go home to wank in the middle of the day, then don't hesitate. If you want me to come with, it's highly unlikely I'll ever say no. Just, recognize your needs and act on them, alright?"
She nodded. It didn't feel as uncomfortable as she imagined it would, fooling around here in the office. This was effectively their own space, removed by a few halls from the DMLE itself. She turned her head, leaning over to close the space between her mouth and his neck, where she began to kiss and nibble her way up to his ear, capturing the lobe between teeth and giving a gentle tug. He shuddered under her, turning his head and breaking the hold she had on him, capturing her mouth and nipping at her lips.
The experience of the imbalance between them—she being nearly naked with the exception of the thigh highs he continued to pet, and he fully clothed in one of his best suits—was thrilling. He plucked at her nipples, teasing, twisting, pinching until she was groaning and shifting on his lap.
"Ready for the good part?" he whispered, claiming another kiss.
"Yes, please."
"Back on your pillow."
She slid down from his lap back to where she started out at. Her cheeks and upper thighs were still highly sensitive, and she was acutely aware of the stockings she wore. Draco stood from his seat and unzipped his trousers, pulling his half-hard cock out and running the tip along her bottom lip. "Open your mouth."
She licked her lips and let them fall apart, looking up at him.
"Good girl. Get me ready." Hearing those words would forever be a thrill.
He slid into her mouth and she began to suckle, running her tongue along his shaft and swirling it around the head, bobbing her head up and down until he gathered most of her hair in his hands, holding it near the scalp, and halted her progress. Her eyes drifted back up to his, and then he began to move, sliding himself in and out. She pursed her lips, continuing to suckle the best she could as he fucked her mouth, his eyes shifting between hers and where his cock was disappearing between her lips. Warmth ignited in her belly, and she squeezed her thighs together in an effort to get a scrap of friction. She groaned around him and watched as his jaw clenched.
Her hands went to her breasts, pushing them together, playing with and pinching the nipples, putting on a show for him. It wasn't long before his cheeks pinkened and he began to pant, noticeably having to restrain himself from thrusting into the very back of her mouth. Suddenly he pulled out and worked himself furiously, keeping her head perfectly in position with his fist full of her locks, until he fell off the ledge with a hoarse cry and thick spurts of his come coated her cheeks.
He stood, staring at her before his thighs wobbled. He managed to collapse back into his chair, chest still heaving. She leaned forward of her own volition and cleaned him with her tongue as he watched with glazed eyes. When she was finished, he caught her jaw in his hand and stroked along her jawbone with his thumb. "That was so good, Hermione. Are you ready to come for me, my good girl?"
She nodded rapidly and rolled to her feet when he motioned for her to move.
"Lie on your back across the desk." His desk was neat and mostly cleared off, which told her he'd likely been planning this for a few days now. She perched on the edge and reclined back onto her elbows, eager to watch.
He tucked himself back into his trousers and rolled over, placing her feet on the armrests and trailing his hands along her stocking-clad thighs with reverence, drawing a low groan from her. She saw him slip something on his finger, but before she could ask what it was, he tapped it with his wand and it began to audibly vibrate. Her thighs clenched as he stroked along her folds, the magical vibrator coming close enough to her clit to make her breath hitch.
"You're positively drenched, Hermione. Did you like how I fucked that sweet little mouth?" His gaze was hot as his eyes dragged across her lips and his finger gave the lightest brushes against her nub.
"Yes!" She tried to focus on her breathing in order to stay still for him, then he pushed the powerful little vibrator directly against her clit, and she clenched her teeth in order to stay quiet.
"I can tell. Your pretty little cunt is so slick and pink and ready for me to play with." He slid two fingers in easily and quickly set a rhythm as he pumped them in and out of her. "Pinch your nipples."
She did, groaning as she plucked and twisted, keeping her head raised to watch him as he stroked her nub with the toy. She keened between clenched teeth as he drove her straight to the brink between the powerful vibrations swirling around her in tight circles and his fingers curling inside her, hitting that perfect spot that had her limbs shaking. All of the play from before had done its job in getting her worked up, and she felt as if she were about to come apart at the seams already.
"I'll never get tired of the sight of your face covered in my come." She was so fucking close, and he had that telltale gleam in his eye that said he knew exactly how close. "You're my little come slut, aren't you?" She rapidly nodded, curls bouncing. "I knew from the first night you attempted to cover yourself in it that I'd be drenching that gorgeous face every chance I got." Eyes flying shut, she collapsed back against the desk as her orgasm took over, smashing across her body and igniting fireworks behind her eyelids from how tightly she squeezed them shut.
The vibrating stopped as she was coming back down from her high, replaced by a soft, strong tongue, and she whimpered. "Shhh, let me clean you up." She laid her head back at his muffled request and groaned as he laved her, licking up every bit. When he was finished, he waved his wand and she was clean again. She sat up and he motioned for her to return to his lap. Once she did, he wet his handkerchief and tenderly cleaned her face as he always did. He liked to claim her face was too delicate to clean with magic and insisted on doing it himself. Having worn makeup for many years, she knew better but refused to deny him the activity.
Once she was clean and back to rights, Draco produced a jar from his suit pocket. "One last thing. Bend over the desk."
A dozen questions fought each other in her throat but she rose, resting on her forearms, palms flat with the hard edge digging into her hip bones. The scrape of the cap as he unscrewed it reached her ears, but before she could ask any questions he was rubbing the balm into the still hot, sensitive flesh he'd spanked to a rosy red hue earlier. By the time he finished, it felt as if he'd never laid a finger on her. When he was done, he nudged her back around. Her clothes were in his lap, and he helped her dress with reverent hands. Physically it was as if the escapade had never happened, but mentally, it felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders and she could think properly again
Draco had been right. That was exactly what she needed to get her thoughts and focus back in order. She gave him one last kiss of thanks before sitting back down at her desk and actually concentrating on the evidence analysis reports for the remaining four hours. They only stopped for tea, where he nudged her into eating something more than a scone since they'd skipped the eating portion of lunch.
When the last workday of the week came to a close, she and Draco locked their office up tight and departed for the Leaky Cauldron, then into Diagon proper. They stopped in Flourish and Blotts for an order Hermione had owled in the week before and were headed down the street to the apothecary when the hair on the back of her neck stood up. It was the same feeling of being watched overtaking her just as it had the day her house burned to the ground.
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, the evening crowd easily parting around her and continuing on their merry as if she and Draco weren't there. Their linked pinkies were the only thing that stopped and turned him around before they were disconnected. Hermione barely registered it as she spun in place.
Searching, searching, searching.
"Granger?"
Her eyes darted to and fro, and she began to backtrack.
"Hermione!"
She ignored him and made it a shop's length away before a strong warm hand circled her upper arm and she felt calm envelope her for but a moment until he spun her to face him. "What's wrong? What are you looking for?" Gray eyes scanned her face and their surroundings in an alternating loop.
"I feel it again; someone's watching us, just like at my house when it burned."
Then, her eyes noticed something amiss in the hustle and bustle, and fell across a tall, broad-shouldered, perfectly still man with a deep-set hood standing at the mouth of Knockturn Alley. A gaggle of younger women passed in front, chatting merrily and carrying a plethora of bags, breaking her line of sight. Once they passed, all she caught was the back of the man who'd been loitering by the entrance as he headed back down into the shadows of the alley. The absence of the gaze made her realize that the man was indeed the one who was watching her.
Her heart jackhammered in her chest and she pointed—too late—but Draco had already seen at the last moment. He was talking from the other side of static as she watched him pull a coin from his pocket and squeeze. Moments later they were surrounded by Aurors, Draco barking orders before squashing her against him and turning them into the void.
They landed in their sitting room, where he held her for another moment before stepping back. Immediately she began to pace back and forth to work off the adrenaline. A thought prodded her that perhaps she should give breathing a try, so she stopped dead inches from Draco and closed her eyes. Her hands were laced together as if in prayer in front of her ches,t and she underwent the mental journey of counting and forcing her breathing to come back under her control in measured exercises.
When she opened her eyes again, he was watching her with a faint grin, his hands tucked in his trouser pockets. "I told you you could do it by yourself. That you didn't need me."
Her eyes narrowed up at him. "Well, that's a complete lie. I'll always need you. Always want you."
She grabbed his tie and pulled him down until she could shove herself up on her toes and kiss him fiercely. He was fighting a grin as she mauled him, her hands running around his neck to bury themselves in his hair. It wasn't until she essentially started to climb him that he finally pulled his hands from his pockets and hoisted her up by the backs of her thighs and stood straight.
He pulled back a bit, one corner of his mouth quirked. "Choking isn't one of my kinks, I'll have you know."
"It's not my fault you're so bloody tall."
"Veela genes, darling. Malfoys have always been tall because of it. Besides, you could have just asked for a kiss."
"I felt that inappropriate to the situation at hand."
His chest vibrated with repressed laughter for a moment before it faded. "After today's events, we're going to put a patrol in Diagon and Knockturn. An invisible one. We have a standing agreement with a few of the shopkeepers that will let us stand sentinel at windows from the upper floors under disillusionment. The memories of these Aurors will be stored and reviewed periodically to look for patterns of behavior as well as keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious. We need to rethink our exposure therapy as well."
At that, her eyes shot wide. "We can't stop. I flat refuse to let this person who's already meddled so far in my life to take anything else. Not another inch." She sucked in, then released a calming breath. "We'll just have to go to Hogsmeade. It has all the basics we need."
He thought about it before slowly nodding his head. "I'm not wild about it, but it's better than nothing. The surrounding mountains and forest give too much cover for my liking, but we'll make it work."
"Perfect." She stole another kiss before wiggling and sliding from his grip to the floor where she began pacing again. "I'm full of nervous energy after that."
He watched her for a few moments before heading towards his bedroom. "Go change into some clothes you don't mind getting dirty."
She was wearing overalls, her cloak, and boots when he got back. After looking her over, he snagged her hand and headed out the back door with her in tow.
"Where are we going?"
"Foraging. We need some fresh supplies for that potion we've been discussing."
"Oh the—"
"Yes, that one." He smirked, knowing that she hated being cut off.
He handed her a basket with a folding harvesting knife as well as a small sickle. For the rest of the afternoon, they spent time in the quiet of the forest gathering mushrooms, herbs, and fresh honey before finding themselves at the edge of the lavender fields.
Hermione crouched at the end of the row, glancing around every few moments as she cut handfuls of stalks and deposited them in the basket.
"What's wrong?"
She glanced up at him. "What do you mean?"
"Granger, you've got your shoulders up around your ears, and you keep looking around like something's going to jump out and start flinging curses any second. Now, what's wrong?"
That was odd, she hadn't done that in a long time. Consciously, she forced herself to relax and let herself fall back to sit. "I'm just worked up over this whole stalker business."
He sat next to her, their arms brushing, as she paused to assemble her thoughts. She took a deep breath. "During the war, when we were out there hunting down Horcruxes, we did our very best to avoid anyone because we never knew who was a snatcher or an informant. We could never trust to know when a bird wasn't a bird or a fox not a fox, and we had to be on our guard every single second." She licked her lips as her eyes drifted over the rows of lavender. "You're tense, and you can't tell if someone's stepped on a stick or if it's merely a branch falling from a tree, and you look down and you've got a delicate plant, ripped up by the roots and squashed between your fingers from where you've jerked it up, and you're looking around desperately, trying to decide whether you need to make yourself invisible and try to run for it or prepare your mind for a fight."
A shudder rolled down her spine. "Then there are times you need lavender, so you go out so very early to a field or meadow you've spotted the day before, but you don't dare step out into the sunlight in the wide-open expanse, because again, you don't know. And then the early morning fog can seem even worse when Harry's behind you in the cloak, and you're knelt down, trying to stop trembling in the damp and cold but afraid to use magic in case it sets off any sort of alarm. You're not sure whether the pre-dawn shadows dancing in the mists are Death Eaters for real or tricks your mind is playing on you as you hurriedly try to gather the adequate number of stalks you need and then some extra just for error's sake as you wonder if you've made a mistake in venturing this far from the forest edge. And then you feel this trembling hand as it rests on your back, and you freeze and look around, trying to determine what they're signaling, if anything, or just trying to be supportive. Then you look down, and you're dripping blood on the ground from where you've accidentally squeezed the knife blade against your thumb in a haze of panic, so you quickly snatch a binding from your pocket because you always have one on hand, of course. You wrap it tight and continue to harvest until you can't stand the openness and retreat back to the tent where you lay out everything and pray there's nothing missing because you can't stand one more tense minute out in the Forest of Dean, or wherever else you're currently bedded down." "
A large, warm hand pried the sickle from hers and tossed it next to the basket before twining their fingers together tightly. She breathed, focusing on taking slow, even breaths until the shuddering faded and she could relax her muscles again.
"I'm going to do whatever I have to for us to catch this person so we can put this behind us and live a happy, normal life. I swear to you, Hermione." He turned and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
Between the two of them it was only a matter of time, she knew. She caught his hand in hers, nuzzling her cheek into his palm and allowing the contact to ground her.
He took a deep breath and studied her for a moment before revealing what he'd apparently decided on while she went on her rambling monologue that she hoped explained her behavior. "I know you don't like when we pay informants but I'm about to use my extensive contacts list," he said, braced as if he were waiting for a nuclear fallout.
She wasn't oblivious to the fact that he likely sprung this on her when she was least likely to care, but she attributed it to his self-preservation instincts. Nevertheless, she could at least appreciate that he told her rather than just doing what was one of his many tricks as an Auror.
While she didn't approve paying people off for intel, her concerns lay with how easily an Auror could be backstabbed. The situation with Justin flitted through her mind, and she silently prayed that the team working on his disappearance would find him soon and bring him home.
Her stomach twisted. Justin had become a solid, dependable Auror and his panic at their crime scene together was grossly out of character, as if time had warped and thrown him back to his unsure days in the D.A. He also shouldn't have been taken so easily from the meeting with his informant. The idea of anything similar happening to Draco made her stomach twist painfully and caused her heart to stutter.
He tucked some hair behind her ear, bringing her attention back to him. "There's nothing I'm above doing until you're out of danger. I'm not asking you to like it, I'm just asking you to try to accept it."
She nodded. "You're right that I don't like it, at all, but I understand, and that's all I'm going to say on it. Whoever it was today, they were so close to us. We likely passed by feet away from them..." She could have been snatched, Portkeyed, or Apparated away in the blink of an eye.
The thoughts flashing through her mind must have been obvious because he turned towards her more fully and cupped her face. "If anything happens, just know that I will raze all of England just to get to you. There's nothing I won't do to get you back, keep you safe, Hermione. Nothing."
It was clear that today's incident had affected him just as much, but he was just better than her at burying it down underneath layers. She leaned forward and kissed him before crawling in his lap and clinging to him. She understood him all too well. She'd burn down the world and Crucio everyone in it too if something happened to him.
See you all this weekend!
Also, MrsRen and I are doing a thing called Fic Club on Discord. We're on week 6 of 10 of a summer reading of The Fallout, so there's still time to hop in and join us! We'll be doing more fics soon and we're offering up the server for people to host their own read-alongs. If you're interested come hit me up on tumblr ( .com) and I'll send you the server link!