Day Twenty-Three

Unlike the previous day, Hermione slept very well without the need for alcohol. She was even up before the shop actually opened. The bed next to her was empty, however. Rabastan proved himself repeatedly to be a morning person. Or maybe he just wasn't used to sleeping in when the sun was in the sky. It might not have been easy for him when he was in Azkaban.

After getting ready for the day, she found her husband seated at the kitchen table reading the morning newspaper. When he smiled at her, she leaned down to kiss him good morning.

"I don't think that kiss counts. You kissed me. It's supposed to be the other way around."

"You can kiss me again later, if you want to so badly."

"Oh, I intend to. The only question is where should I kiss you?"

He raised an eyebrow. She felt confused.

"It doesn't matter. Here in the flat, down in the shop, you pick."

"That's not what I'm asking. Where should I kiss you?"

Hermione nearly choked on her tea when she realized what he was asking. Could he see how red her cheeks already were? It was nearly impossible for her to hide her blushes around him, a fact he seemed to take great pleasure in.

"I suppose you can pick that too."

"Excellent. I have a few ideas."

He returned to reading his newspaper like there was nothing strange or out of the ordinary about their conversation. Hermione simply tried to keep her cheeks under control while she ate her breakfast. Her thoughts kept going to very inappropriate places. After a couple of minutes of reading, Rabastan burst out into loud laughter. Again she was confused. What could be so funny in the Daily Prophet? Some of their stories were outlandish, but nothing usually guffaw-inducing. So anxious was her husband to share what he was reading, she didn't even have to ask for an explanation.

"Apparently, there was a strange infestation of a particular species of dugbogs found only in Sweden in a flat rented by your former manager Nicholas. Terribly nasty creatures that like to bite. He's recovering in St. Mungo's and is now under investigation for smuggling these creatures inside the country illegally. He claims he has no idea where they came from and they just appeared one day."

"Oh dear, that sounds terrible."

Both of them laughed at Nicholas' strange misfortune. In Hermione's opinion, it couldn't have happened to a better person. And what strange timing too. If she didn't have a very strong suspicion that she knew just exactly what happened, she might have finally had a definitive reason to believe in karma.

"I suppose we now know what Luna was doing in Sweden."

"I'll be honest with you, my darling. If anything tragic were to happen to you, after an acceptable mourning period, of course, I would be at Luna's front door begging her to go out with me."

Hermione laughed.

"And I would support that decision from beyond the grave."

Saturday in the shop was even busier than it was the day before. All of the customers who forgot they wanted books suddenly remembered again. From the moment the shop was open all the way until it was time to close, they had customers. Hermione was relieved that the shop was doing well, that they were finally making money again. Little by little she felt better about herself as a business owner. Far from the best, of course, at least she was improving. Maybe at some point she would discover her self-confidence again. She was exhausted but extremely happy when they closed the shop that evening. Before she locked the door for the night, she escorted Rodolphus and Amelia out.

"Thank you so much for coming in again. We couldn't have done this without you too. I think tomorrow Rabastan and I will be fine on our own."

They said their goodbyes and walked their different ways. Hermione was sure she'd never been happier to turn the lock on the door. As she walked to the office she extinguished the lights. She couldn't stop herself from standing in the doorway again to watch her husband add up the daily sales. Only a minute or two later, however, she was anxious for him to stop.

"That can wait for morning, you know."

Rabastan smiled and put his quill down.

"You're right. Let's go home. I'm starving."

There hadn't been any opportunity to even stop for lunch. If business continued going as well as it had that day, they would need to be more creative about how they conducted their breaks throughout the day. Once upstairs Rabastan led her into the kitchen.

"I think I'll take that kiss now."

Expecting him to kiss her mouth, Hermione gasped when he picked her up by her waist to set her down on top of the kitchen table. He forced her to lay on her back. Thoroughly confused, when he sat down in a chair she started to demand he tell her what he was doing. He smiled a devilish grin right before he said another word.

"I told you. I'm famished."

His hands removed her knickers from under her skirt in one sharp tug. Not one to tease and torment by nipping her inner thigh or dragging his tongue near his intended destination until she begged and pleaded, he went straight for his goal. She cried out immediately at the feel of his first lick. Wishing to taste her and memorize her by mouth alone, he took his time, never hurrying, never rushing. It was maddening in the most amazing of ways. She kept her eyes closed, sure that she was dreaming. When had that act ever felt so fucking amazing? She certainly couldn't remember.

Alone in their flat where there was no fear they would walked in on, she didn't worry about the noise she made. Rarely one to put on a show just for the ego of her partner, she reserved her cries only for those that really deserved them. And there was no question Rabastan deserved every single squeak and plea and throaty moan. If that was how he was when he was out of practice, she couldn't wait to see how much better it was going to get as time went on.

Carefully he used his fingers to spread her lips open to give him better access. She almost screamed right then. Every swipe of his tongue was magical, perfect, in the exact right spot. It wasn't long before she couldn't concentrate long enough to know exactly what he was doing. All she was aware of was she felt like she was floating. The first of his fingers entering her combined with his skilled tongue was nearly too much to handle. She could feel her pleasure building rapidly. When he slipped a second inside, she was lost. In and out he moved his hand while his tongue focused solely on swirling around her clit in a dizzying pattern. She had to clench her fists.

A guttural scream she almost didn't recognize as her voice came out of her mouth the moment she could see nothing but exploding stars in her vision. All of Diagon Alley was certain to have heard that scream. Once upon a time that might have shamed her, but she didn't care. Rabastan's amused chuckling brought her back to reality about the same time her body stopped trembling. Feeling more like herself, she couldn't resist the urge to tease him.

"You're awfully proud of yourself, aren't you?"

"Very proud. I'm especially proud of my self-control. Every little moan of yours made me want to stand up and fuck you until the only word you remembered was my name."

She couldn't believe how casually he could say such dirty things. The more she thought about it, the more she thought she liked it far more than she should. Rabastan stood up and gently pat her cheek.

"Now get up and compose yourself. I'll give you a few minutes and then we're going out for dinner. I really am starving. As much I wish I could live quite happily with my face between your thighs, my stomach has different ideas."

Hermione watched him casually walk to the bathroom like what he just said was perfectly normal.