When Hermione Granger woke up the next morning in the arms of her recently acquired fifteen year old lover, she found that it wasn't ecstasy filled flashbacks from the previous night which surfaced first, but the rising bile of shame and disgust she'd worked so hard to keep bottled up yesterday, on her special day for denial.
Who am I, she asked herself, blinking back tears.
I'm a monster. I willingly seduced Harry's godson, whom he entrusted to me to responsibly care for.
There were no spells this time, no magical inducements, the bare minimum alcohol, just enough self-pity and the excuse of a broken anniversary to push her over the edge towards committing an unforgivable crime, and irreparably scarring a promising young man for life.
How did she get here? In hindsight, it all went wrong when she supposedly 'rationally' evaluated her heretofore unknown attraction to the teenager that morning in midtown Manhattan. She'd thought she had it all figured out, that by breaking down the root causes of her feelings she could thus confront, then suppress, her most depraved urges. Instead, all her reasoning had amounted to merely playing the victim, and making excuses for herself on every occasion. Blaming Teddy for acting too mature for his age, looking too mature for his age, rather than taking responsibility for feeling that way regardless of how an innocent teenager acted or looked.
Then there was Ron. She allowed herself a large degree of emotional leeway because Ron had cheated on her, Ron had left her vulnerable, in need, hurt, broken, so surely her feelings for little Teddy Lupin were absolutely Ron's fault and not her own, right? If he'd never cheated on her, then she never would have felt the urge to seduce a fifteen year old. If he'd been a more attentive husband, then she never would have acted on those urges.
Bollocks. Would Ron's infidelity excuse her if she committed an act of murder, or performed a Cruciatus on Chou or Ustinov in the middle of negotiations?
Clearly there was only one answer, a secret she'd avoided ever since that speakeasy in lower Manhattan. Hermione Granger, vaunted Undersecretary and diplomat, acclaimed member of the Golden Trio, war hero, wife and mother of two, noble Gryffindor in her mind all her life...was nothing more than a bad person. A sexual deviant. An base wench who possessed no control of her basest urges.
Then she felt him awaken next to her, felt his grip around her naked body tighten, shuddered as the first instincts the boy had upon waking was to plant loving kisses along the back of her neck and face, and all her doubts and self loathing, if they did not disappear entirely, returned to the deep dark recess in her heart which had enabled her to do what she had done to Teddy these last few days in the first place.
Because the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, all made her feel like the most special woman in the world, made her feel one of a kind. Because, she'd come to realize, not only did he love her in his naïve way, but he accepted her. His infatuation was not just an unthinking fantasy, no, he absolutely loved her and adored her as she was. Who else could she say that for, that weren't already her parents or children? Certainly not Ron. Harry, perhaps, until he'd found out about what she'd done to his godson. She was a deviant, a criminal, perhaps her own children would hate her one day once they learned the full depths of her degeneracy, but for now, Teddy loved her without conditions, and fully accepted her with all her imperfections.
It's all a lie, and you know that. You know better.
"I love you," he whispered into her ear, his breath damp and unwashed in the light of the morning, and Hermione recalled their third and most intense session from the last night. He'd held her in a spooning position, sliding in and out of her, all her body held within his arms, his control. Never did their lips and tongues break contact, and as he fucked her his hands wandered and strayed all over her body, clutching her breasts, fingering her clit, rubbing her belly and abdomen as the young man cautiously explored just how his modest morphing abilities could help give his partner pleasure. There'd been no problems with his stamina either, as it felt like he could've gone on forever, were the two of them not already exhausted from a long and most fulfilling day.
In his arms she'd felt small, she'd felt safe, secure, even though that had been a preposterous notion considering not only their respective ages, but the fact that Hermione Grange of the Golden Trio was renowned as one of the world's most powerful and fearful witches. Nevertheless, the illusion had been more than enough in the throes of passion, and seemed more than enough the morning after to get her to forget about all those trifling moral qualms that would have horrified the Hermione Granger from before this summer, before her divorce.
"Fuck me," she whispered to him, bending down on all fours. "Fuck me." He obliged, hard and lustful before he was even fully awake. As he'd never been with a woman in this position before, it took Teddy a few tries to properly insert himself into her, though the eager teenager quickly figured out that the best to leverage his body against hers was to grip at her hips, pulling her body towards his own as he slammed again and again into her.
"Fuck me," Hermione continued to scream, not caring at all about their reverberations into the neighboring rooms. This was all she deserved, the witch told herself. She did not deserve love, so she would not let Teddy make love to her. No, she deserved to be fucked, to be punished, to be castigated and marked and branded for her crimes.
When he'd finished, Hermione walked wordlessly into the shower. Strangely enough she did not cry immediately. Perhaps that was due to the fact that she was trying so hard not to feel anything at all. Not the lingering pleasure in her loins from their activities last night and this morning. Not her stinging regret, nor her growing longing for a man she could never have. Not for long, anyhow.
Losing herself in the blistering waters, she barely heard him walk into the bathroom, first brushing his teeth, before pulling open the shower curtain and joining her inside, having seen no need to dress himself in the meantime.
"What's wrong Hermione?"
He'd waited, and it disappointed him when she went mute, because he thought he'd earned her trust by now. He'd assumed that, after all they'd shared in and outside of bed, that she might finally feel comfortable in confiding in him all her troubles, all the depths of her emotions, good or bad. Because that's what lovers did with each other, wasn't it? Because as great as she felt and as amazing as she made him feel, it all meant nothing if she remained so sad, and he remained helpless to do anything about it.
"You know this can't last, right?" She spoke without turning her head to look at him, even as he embraced her lightly, joining her under the showerhead's cleansing waters. He should have known these words were coming, but Teddy had hoped for a longer honeymoon at the very least.
"I know that when this trip is over, that you'll have your family, and I'll have Harry and Ginny watching over me. I'll have to return to Hogwarts. But, I think that if we love each other enough, if you want to make this work as much as I do, we can find a way. Maybe we'll have to wait until I turn sixteen, once we return to the real world. Or when I finish Hogwarts, for the sake of your career. I'll go celibate if I have to, I've lasted fifteen years this way already, it won't be easy, but I'd manage, if you promise to wait for me. But, I think we're both clever enough to find a way to see each other without others finding out. It won't be as much as I'd like, Merlin knows that, but anything I can get of Hermione Granger is better than nothing."
The young wizard hoped that his words would have a positive effect upon her, demonstrating and impressing upon her that he hadn't jumped into this love affair thoughtlessly, that contrary to what she believed, he did take into consideration her family, her career, her reputation, and that he would do everything he could so that she did not lose everything. What he did not expect was for the dam to finally burst, for the naked woman before him to break down and bawl uncontrollably.
"Oh Teddy," Hermione cried, turning towards the soul so pure that she dared not look him in the eye. But she allowed him to hold her, to whisper foolish notions that everything was going to be okay. This wasn't the first time Hermione had cried in front of him, but it was the first time Teddy could unreservedly comfort her, feeling each and every paralyzing spasm inside his arms until her sobs slowly died down to whimpers. Ironically, this bout of tears felt worse to him, because she'd been invariably spilling her tears over him this time, not Ron.
"I want you, Teddy," she breathed into his chest.
"I want you too, Hermione," he said, befuddled, the woman he loved still gripped tightly inside his arms. "What's wrong, then?"
"Even if we continue this, Teddy...if we can sneak around and avoid Harry and Molly and Rita Skeeter's infernal cameras...I'll lose you one day Teddy, I know I will."
"What are you talking about?"
Rather than answer, she pulled him in and kissed him as passionately as he could ever recall. There was a possessive way in which her lips claimed his, biting and tugging while she cupped both her hands delicately around the bottom of his face.
"Promise me you'll leave me, Teddy." She continued before the confused teenager could question her further. "There will come a day when the magic ends, and you'll see me not as this fantastical woman of your dreams, but as the old woman that I am. When you realize that there are so many pretty and smart and beautiful and kind and powerful women in this world, women your age, that you might never get to know if you insist on holding onto me. There will come a day when you start doubting yourself, the choices you made in your life, on this trip, or afterwards, if we continue this. You'll realize that the things you've promised me you didn't mean, because you were too young to say such things, and I never should have allowed you to make such promises in the first place."
"Hermione, I'd never..."
"Listen to me Teddy," she interrupted forcefully. "This is how the world works, this is how the human heart goes, and grows. What we have right now, Teddy...is absolutely wonderful and magical. Let it remain that way then. I don't want you to have to regret this, Teddy, if it has to be anyone, then let me shoulder that burden. So when that day comes, and the magic fades between us, and your heart yearns to escape my clutches, to experience life without my shackles, I want you to leave me. I don't care how hard I cry, how loud I scream, how desperate I am to cling on to you...walk away. Promise me, Teddy, promise me you'll walk away, promise that you simply won't allow me to hold you back."
Of course his first instinct was to debate her on what she knew was the truth. "That'll never happen, Hermione. I'll never leave you like that, because I'll never stop loving you."
"You don't know that!" She'd nearly screamed the words at him, and pounded one small fist upon his bare chest for additional effect. "Teddy Lupin, if you want to kiss me again, if you want to touch me or spend another waking minute with me, you have to promise me that you won't allow me to ruin your life, any more than I've already have, at least."
There was more that she wanted to say to him. That he didn't know her, not the real her. The Hermione Granger he'd known as a child was a fantasy, an archetype of the attractive older woman who'd occasionally intruded into his life on occasion. Then, the Hermione Granger he'd gotten to known on this trip was 'The Undersecretary', a role she played, not who she actually was. The international jetsetter, the suave politician and tough negotiator, that was all an act. She did not go to endless happy hours in real life, flit from lounge to bar to lounge to luxury swimming pool, indulge from one fantastical and romantic city to another with no regard for budget or money. No, the real Hermione was a homebody, a mother who occasionally sought sanctuary from her busy life by cooking, buying groceries, and if she were lucky, curling up with a good book on a rare lazy Sunday morning, and an energetic young man like Teddy could only stare at her lovingly while she read for so long before he eventually got bored of her.
Yet she could tell Teddy none of this. Because it would hurt him, she told herself. Because it would ruin the illusion they were currently enjoying, she knew in her heart of hearts, and because she did not want to break through that glass door just yet.
Sighing, the young man conceded. "I promise you, Hermione." What was the point? It was an easy promise for him to make, because it could never happen, he simply could not imagine a day when he didn't love Hermione like he did now. "I promise you that the moment I no longer want to be with you, that I'll leave you."
"Thank you," she said, feeling a desperate and heavy weight leaving her body, as she closed her eyes and pressed her face against his shoulder once more.
"I think it'd be more likely that Voldemort might return, but I promise you anyway." He said the words so lightly that he didn't she'd heard him. She did, but chose to ignore him for once.
The rest of the day was a subdued one for the both of them, as if they were both out of words to say to each other now that they had fully consummated their shared urges. There wasn't much to pack up, considering neither of them had brought with them more than a day's worth of clothes. Teddy took the helm of the broom again, and she held onto him, this time feeling the shame of groping a teenager that she had somehow banished from her mind the previous day. Returning their rental at a station in Jasper, they took the Floo back to Las Vegas, where their hotel lobby was already abuzz with diplomats checking out with suitcases packed for the next city of their itinerary.
Thus as badly as Teddy wanted to follow Hermione into her room, he couldn't do so out of discretion. The first thing he did then was to send her a quick Muggle text asking her to open her room Floo to him, and transported himself over. He found her sitting on her bed, seemingly staring out into nothingness.
"Hey." He sat down and carefully placed a kiss on her forehead. She responded, but not as enthusiastically as he would have hoped, but at least she took his hand when he placed it onto her lap. "You haven't really said much since this morning."
"Hmm. I guess I haven't, have it?" Her eyes weren't red, but Teddy thought she looked like she had been crying, or was about to cry.
"I'm serious, Hermione. I'm worried about you. Is there something wrong? Tell me, I want you to trust me."
What was she supposed to say? That everything was wrong? That she wasn't sure whether the right thing for her to break his heart immediately, or keep violating Teddy over and over again so that she wouldn't hurt him now? Either way, she was hurting him in one manner or another.
"I don't know what to say, Teddy. What I've just done to you is one of the worst things a woman like me can do to a boy your age."
"Did it feel bad? Did it feel wrong last night, or this morning?" He put his arm around her back, trying desperately to hide how terrified he was that, as strongly as he felt about her, as far as their relationship had seemingly progressed overnight, he still stood just one wrong word away from possibly losing her forever.
"It doesn't matter," came her predictable reply. "I've crossed a line. I can sleep with you again right now, on this bed. Breaking this off won't erase what I've already done, right? So I might as well go off the deep end, enjoy myself. But then, I'm sure Voldemort comforted himself by saying the same thing, didn't he? Oh, I've already committed an unforgivable and scratched off one piece of my soul, what's the harm in keeping on, commit a few more murders, make a few more horcruxes?"
"You're not Voldemort, Hermione," Teddy objected, amazed that he even had to say such a thing to the amazing woman next to him. "You're the absolute opposite of him. If you've committed a crime, it's loving someone, and allowing yourself to be loved."
"You make it sound so simple," Hermione replied resentfully. Softly he kissed her, to try and demonstrate that his intent wasn't to be callous, and despite her better judgment, Hermione could not help but respond, as if the moment his lips touched her, she became transformed into a feral and unthinking animal.
"I know it's not," he conceded. "Look, I agree. I think about most of my classmates, and I doubt they'd be ready for something like this. Victoire, she's like my best friend, and if a wizard your age ever tried to put his grubby paws on her, and I'd probably Avada Kedavra them, screw the consequences. Most of my blokes I'd tell them they're mad if they came back from summer and told me they were going at it with some lady twice their age, and that their woman's probably just as bonkers as they are. But I'm not them, Hermione, and you're not just any woman or man your age. Maybe you can accept that I'm different, I know what exactly what I want, I know exactly what I'm doing, and apparently I'm pretty good at it too."
She couldn't help but smile and blush at his suggestive words, and he continued.
"You're different too. You're not a predator, it's not like you went and crept into my room and lifted up my covers while I was sleeping. Tell me if I'm wrong, but I doubt you've ever looked at someone my age before. And you probably wouldn't have wanted me, if I hadn't been coming on to you all summer long. I mean, I'd like to thing that I'm charming and handsome and enjoyable to be around, that we didn't do what we did last night simply because you have a predilection for chaps in between their Fourth and Fifth Years."
There were severe flaws in his logic, even though her mind seemed too clouded to pick apart his analysis at this time.
"For the record," Hermione said humorously, "I didn't go and snog you because you hit on me. I...I," she found it difficult to even say the words out loud, as if not admitting it vocally might successfully hide the truth, from both her conscience, and the world at large.
"I slept with you last night Teddy, because I feel something for you. And I feel something for you not because you're some world renowned lothario in training, Teddy, but just the opposite. Because you're kind, and you're caring, and you're sensitive, and funny, and...and, being the object of adulation from someone like you, Teddy...it makes me feel special." There, she said it. "You make me feel special, Teddy, perhaps more so than any man ever has in my life. Because of who you are, because I know that you mean whatever you say to me, because I trust your sincerity, and your heart..."
She needed to stop herself. Here she sat, so easily goaded into listing all the reasons why she should continue this affair with a fifteen year old child. So there she sat, unsure of her own moral compass for the first time in her life, drowning in a tempestuous storm where right and wrong swirled all about her, and she couldn't see or hear or breathe under its tow. When she felt him tuck two fingers to the side of her face and pull her towards his lips she relented, she gave in, not because she made the conscious choice to kiss him back, but she felt like she had no choice at this point. Because Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of her Age, war and Muggle-born icon and hero of the Golden Trio, knew herself too well, she knew her mind too well. She knew that she could easily argue against herself to death, listing every argument against her conscience as to why she should continue this illegal tryst.
So why bother then? Why torture herself endlessly? Knowing that she would never win, or lose, a debate against herself, Hermione thought that perhaps the only course of action left to her was to stop arguing. Stop thinking. Just act. Just do what she wanted. Just take what she wanted, while she still could, before this trip ended and they both had to return to reality.
They lay there in her makeshift bed, kissing each other endlessly and doing no more than that. He barely reached at her with his tongue at all, gently nibbling and playing with her lips, and Hermione sensed that the perfect Hufflepuff next to her was acting not out of lust right now, but love. Teddy held her body in his hands calmly, not because he was planning to rip off her clothes and have his way with her (again), but because he was worried about her, because was concerned, and he wanted to make her feel better about herself, about them, and this was his way of trying once he had run out of words. (It was working.)
Hermione did not know how long they might have remained on that bed, gently making out, before a light rap on her door interrupted them both.
"It's probably Luna," Hermione said, recognizing the understated style of her friend. "Go run to the wash room, just in case."
"Oh 'Mione, your snogimtums look absolutely beautiful together!"
Her instincts were correct. Hermione's favorite Ravenclaw flitted into the room, blinking her eyes happily at her and a cautiously emerging Teddy, projecting vacant happiness towards both of them.
"Luna," Hermione stumbled. "We...look, me and Teddy..." When it came down to it, she found herself unable to even speak out loud to a third party what they had done the night before.
"Oh, when I trying to sleep last night, Chou's a really loud snorer, you know, and this after he cried his little heart out, I thought, I hope Hermione's having a good day today. I hope that Teddy's treating her right, but there's no doubt about that, is there, you sweet little thing?"
"It was..." A mistake? Was it? Even if it was, that wasn't a word she should say in front of Teddy. "Luna, the last week has been extremely confusing for me, and i feel like I can't even think straight...wait, did you just say you slept with Chou?"
Merlin, did she just accidentally pimp one of her best friends out? How low was she willing to sink on this trip, willingly or unwillingly?
"Oh, it was no big deal," Luna said dismissively. "He seems so quiet and secretive, but he's actually really sweet, once he has a lot to drink, you know, the drunk to the point of Obliviating yourself kind of drunk."
"You got Chou drunk and then slept with him?" Sheer incredulousness was now replacing any feelings of shame towards how she might have used Luna.
"Oh don't worry, Ro and I aren't the jealous kind. Usually we like to record each other, but not this time, obviously, cause of diplomacy and everything. And it was kind of a mood killer too, you know, the whole crying during sex thing."
Hermione glanced over at Teddy, just to make sure that his jaw was dropped as low as hers, while the blonde witch continued the account of her night.
"But Hermione, you've got nothing to worry about from him. I went through a lot of memories during the Legilimens, and saw nothing about D'Jinns or trying to kill you. Oh, he's been trying to block the Muggle-born statutes that seem so make or break for everyone right now, but he's willing to reconsider so long as you agree to a strengthening of the sovereignty protections and veto powers. Oh, and a small bribe wouldn't hurt either, obviously you'd never do that, Hermione, but it wouldn't hurt to look away for once, I'm sure you have friends who would be willing to step in."
Her mouth agape, for once she'd forgotten the depths of her own crimes, although only in the aftermath of listening to Luna's absurd story that she wished was just fiction for the moment.
"You used a Legilimens on Ambassador Chou?"
"Oh, he asked for it," Luna continued without a beat. "I told him I was some kind of expert, oh, what do Muggles call those again, psychotherapists! Except for wizards. He's got a lot of issues, he got beaten pretty badly as a child, to start with. Anyway, I helped Obliviate him of all the bad stuff, and he's all good now. Well, as undamaged as a grown man can be, but I daresay he's going to be a lot more bubblier in all those dreadful meetings, Hermione. And oh, don't worry, he's not going to remember any of this. Well, he'll remember me helping him, but he won't remember me going through all his other memories, cause he was pretty drunk, and I Obliviated those memories just in case too."
Damn, this woman was ruthless, even if she were entirely unaware of her own latent capabilities.
"So let me get this straight. You got Chou drunk, slept with him, convinced him...no, manipulated him to let you inside his mind under some sort of guise...while he was barely conscious, no less, then violated his memories to obtain information for me, Obliviated him and covered your tracks..."
...while violating about a dozen protocols against the Wizengamot's rules and International bylaws, she restrained herself from saying. Luna had done it for her sake, indeed, and if she'd been...a tad too enthusiastic in her tasks, then that was Hermione's fault for delegating to the wrong person.
"Was that not good," Luna asked cautiously, frowning as she began to discern hints that Hermione was not as pleased by her exploits than she would have hoped.
"Oh no, that was great, absolutely smashing, Luna. It really ties up some loose ends for me, saves me a lot of manpower, not to mention Kingsley..." Merlin, she definitely could not tell him the full truth in her report; it was funny how one lie seemed to beget the next flurry of them on this tour. Hermione forced herself to refrain from blaming Luna for any of this newest catastrophe, as it wasn't her fault that she had chosen to thrust her friend blindly into her world like this. "I owe you the world for this, Luna, I can't even describe it. Next time you're in London..."
"Oh, I'm sure you and Teddy will make for wonderful hosts," Luna said confidently with a wink, beaming as if what had happened the night could solely be attributed to her efforts at matchmaking. "It was nothing, I should come to Vegas more often, Hermione, we should make more girl trips out of it..."
She was thankful when the woman took the Floo back to New York, leaving her and Teddy alone again...a blessing or a curse, Hermione still hadn't decided yet.
"Do you want to snog more," Teddy asked, feigning shyness because Hermione knew that once she let that toothpaste out of the tube, she'd received a young man as voracious for her as a once powerful Dark Lord had been for power whom she could not exactly return to the manufacturer.
"We should probably finish packing," she answered, delaying the inevitable. "I've heard a lot of great things about the cafe's in Cartagena. I'd like to get there early enough so that we can enjoy a cup with the sunset."
And so it went. Another new city, new country, new continent, another romantic dalliance in new environs which would serve to further engrain what feelings they had for each other. And half of Hermione, all her heart, to the detriment of her conscience and good sense, absolutely looked forward to it with an enthusiasm she had not felt in a long time.
I feel that this previous chapter might comprise the beating heart of this story. It shows that Hermione has not lost her moral compass, or her sense of right and wrong. It details all the reasons why this relationship perhaps ought not exist, and all the reasons why the characters choose to continue with it anyway. Hermione is unsparing her in her assessment of herself; she's come to the understanding that she's been her own best enabler.
Even Teddy agrees to a certain extent, he states that he doesn't think most of his classmates his age is fit for such a relationship...it's just that he believes he, and they, are and ought to be the sole exception. I believe this chapter also makes clear that, as mature as Teddy might believe himself to be, there is a vast gulf of maturity and life experiences between himself and Hermione. Teddy is naïve. Whether that makes him wrong, and Hermione right, however, is another matter, and it's a question that neither one of them might be able to answer at this moment in the story.
For those who are still reading along, thank you.