THE FAMILY BUSINESS: THIRTEEN
Summary: Hermione's peaceful, yet boring life is disrupted when notorious hunter, Dean Winchester, walks into her book shop. Dean's life is completely changed when he meets, Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of her Age. But maybe that's just what they both needed. A series of one-shots based on their lives together. Mostly Dean's POV. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Supernatural. I am not making a profit from writing and posting this fanfic.
AN
I feel awful. I'm sorry I've been gone so long and far, far longer than I'd intended or promised. Real life has been kind of shit for me lately and the family stuff I was dealing with got worse. My granddad died and though it didn't affect me as much as if might do others, my granddad and I weren't that close, he wasn't a big part of my life and I haven't spoken to him or seen him in almost ten years. But it did affect my mother, despite the circumstances being the same for her, though it was all of his doing, not ours.
Anyway, I had to be there for her and after the funeral was over, I'd intended to come straight back to writing but then tragedy struck. My nana fell ill and was put in hospital, and I'm really close to my nana, so I spent most of my time with her. She's stubborn and was back to health quicker than the doctors predicted, so I was going to return. And then another family relative, my great uncle, died. I'm cursed, I'm sure of it. It's the season of death.
I haven't had the motivation or energy to even attempt to write anything new, and I've barely been anywhere near my laptop, if only to do a bit of editing on a previous fic.
But on a brighter note and I return with good news. I promised I'd return to posting for 'The English Rose' once I'd edited it all and I've edited and posted the first 35 chapters, which is why some of you have been receiving 'phantom updates'. I should be returning to it in a few weeks and we can finally get it finished!
Oh, and I have a new job, and I love it!
Thank you all for the PMs, your kind words and your checking up on me to make sure I'm okay, I truly appreciate it and I'll get to responding to them as soon as I can.
Anyway, onto the new chapter.
This isn't really anything plot related, just a bit of a fun filler chapter. One that has Hermione and John fighting because I think we can all agree that we love how funny it is.
Q&A
ArmyWife22079 – I've finally made up my mind about the reveal of magic and we'll see the outcome soon. Yes, I'm going to have there being two types of werewolves as I had in my other fic, and Teddy will be making an appearance soon, too.
CallaRose4ever – I don't think John will be suspicious since I mentioned that they'd walked to the field as it wasn't that far from the motel, so he'd just assume that Harry had parked his car at the motel and then walked over, too.
Blondie95 – I want to keep this as close to canon as possible and unfortunately, that does mean Dean will be making a deal with the demon and he will be going to hell. I'm going to hate having to write that into the fic and I'm going to struggle, but I need to do it as it's how Castiel and the other angels/the apocalypse is brought into the storyline.
Page count: 10
Three days later...
"Come on, Baby, time to get up," Dean said, leaning against the bathroom door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, watching the unmoving heap beneath the blanket as she was surrounded by Crookshanks and Sadie.
There was no response or movement and he chuckled before pushing away from the door frame and crossing over to the bed, the mattress dipping as he perched on the edge and reached out, his hand settling on what he thought was Hermione's hip and he gave her a gentle shake.
"Baby, wake up," he said.
She made a sound of annoyance in her sleep, her body shifting beneath the covers but otherwise, she didn't respond or make any move to wake and climb from the bed.
"Hermione," he said, leaning closer to her, his elbow taking his weight and the mattress shifted once more, enough that he woke both the cats and whilst Sadie stretched, meowed and greeted him with a lick to the cheek before she jumped off the bed and headed for her food bowl, Crookshanks was by far from pleased and he glanced at him coldly before crossing to Sam's empty bed, curling up into a ball beside Domino and falling back to sleep. "You have to get up."
"I don't wanna," Hermione muttered, her voice muffled as her head was buried beneath the covers. "What time is it?"
"A little after eight," he answered.
"Then why the bloody hell are you waking me now? We didn't get in until late, nowhere will be open for another hour and Sam's snoring kept me awake all night. I've heard a dragon roar quieter than his snoring."
Dean snorted at her before giving her a gentle shake once more. "If I let you sleep too late, you'll struggle to sleep tonight."
"I'm not thinking about tonight, I just want to sleep. I really don't have the energy to get out of bed."
"It sounds like you need some motivation."
"Motivation? What kind of motivation?" She asked curiously and sounding more awake. It was progress that he felt her shifting beneath the blanket and when she peeked out from beneath the covers, she was facing him.
"The best kind," he replied, his mouth tugging into a smirk when he heard the hitch to her breath as she caught onto the meaning behind his words.
"I swear, Dean, if you're teasing me I'll make your life a living hell."
"Me? Tease you? Never. You feeling a little frustrated?" He asked knowingly.
She scowled at him. "Of course I bloody am. We haven't had sex in eighteen days and it's bloody killing me!"
"You know how many days it's been?" He arched an eyebrow.
"Please, like you haven't been counting, too," she scoffed. "Between me being gone for a week, us sharing a room with Sam all the bloody time because he refuses to share with your father, and your father's presence, it makes it difficult for us to get five bloody minutes alone together, let alone any privacy. It's easy for you, you can take the edge off with a quick wank in the shower, I can't. I have to suffer; I have been for eighteen days!"
He honestly had no idea how to respond to her and he felt laughter threaten to bubble out of him at her sulky-annoyed almost pout, but if he allowed it to, she'd make him regret it for the rest of his life. Instead, he gave his head a quick shake before his mouth tugged into a smirk and his hand slipped from her hip to ass.
"I feel bad,"
"You should," she told him, tilting her head up a little before lifting the blanket and burrowing beneath it until he could no longer see her face. "Let me sleep, it's the only way to escape the torture. I don't know how much longer I can take this and I swear, someone will find themselves injured beyond repair."
He bit the inside of his cheek to stop him from laughing and his eyes did a quick sweep of his surroundings, double-checking there was no one around despite already knowing Sam had left to grab breakfast and his father had gone to find some newspapers. He and Hermione where the only ones in the room, Sadie having jumped out of the open window not long before and she was followed by Domino who was followed by a grumpy looking Crookshanks, who always followed the younger cats around to keep them out of trouble.
When his eyes moved back to the covered heap that was his girlfriend, his mouth tugged at the corners before he shifted closer to her, pulled the blanket out from beneath him and ducked beneath them, the same as her. Even in the dark, he could make out her sulky frown and she huffed before turning away from him, putting her back to him.
He barely stopped his laughter but he didn't allow her actions to upset or deter him, he knew exactly what she needed and unfortunately, they didn't have the time for him to do it the way he wished to so he'd have to make do with what little time they had. No one knew how long it would take to find the demon-killing colt and kill the demon that had killed his mother, and until then, his father would be travelling with them and Sam would continue to refuse to share a room with him, meaning he'd have to share with him and Hermione and any chance at privacy remained low. If he didn't do something now whilst he had the chance, if he didn't do something to take the edge off, Hermione'd explode, either injuring someone, revealing her magic or both. Neither was an acceptable option.
She released another huff and he shifted a little closer until his chest hit against her back and his hand lifted to her hip before trailing down the bare skin of her thigh, his touch soft and teasing. As usual, she wore one of his t-shirts to bed and the fabric was bunched around his hips, it having ridden up during all of her shuffling about and before his fingers had even skimmed the waistline of her underwear, her breath hitched.
"What are you doing?" She asked, attempting to keep her tone neutral, void of emotion but he felt her body automatically relax against him, her tense form calming under the simple touch.
"Taking care of you," he shrugged, speaking against her ear and he felt her shudder against him.
"We don't have time," she pointed out.
"Hmmm, maybe not for what I'd like to do to you, but we should have enough to take care of your problem," he replied, his voice muffled a little as his nose ran the length of her throat, his mouth leaving little nips and kisses in its wake and she tipped her head to give him better access. "So, just relax, switch of that insanely clever brain of yours and let me take care of you."
He knew her so well he could already hear the response she'd planned for him and so he distracted her, moving his mouth to the sensitive skin just behind her earlobe and his hand slipped beneath her underwear, being surprised to find that she really was frustrated. He'd barely touched her and she was already damp with arousal and his muffled hum of approval sounded against her skin as her breath hitched. Her hand flew up to his forearm, gripping tightly and her nails digging into his skin when he slipped his fingers between her folds, spreading her arousal and finding the little bundle of nerves that had her body jerking and a gasp falling from her lips.
He wasn't quite sure when it'd happened, but the air beneath the covers became hot and sticky and Hermione shoved the blanket off them so they could breathe the cooler air in the room, and her leg lifted to hook over his, giving him more space to move and allowing him easier access to her entrance. Before he knew it, her free arm had wound up and around his neck, keeping him against her neck, she was biting her lip to try and muffle her gasps and moans but was ultimately failing and her hips rocked against his hand. He knew she was frustrated as after barely any time at all, her walls were fluttering around his fingers.
"Dean..." She breathed out. "I can't take it anymore," she all but cried.
"I know, Baby," he muttered, twisting his fingers in search of the special spot that would send her flying over the edge.
He knew he'd found it when her body jerked forward but before he could do anything else and ensure he brought her to the end, Hermione's body stiffened, her hips halting to a straight stop and she released a loud, horrified gasp before she brought her arm from his neck, pulled his hand from being buried inside her and she hid her entire head beneath the covers.
Dean lifted his head from her neck, a nauseous feeling settling in his stomach and he automatically looked to the third door in the room. One was the entrance/ exit, another the bathroom and the third and final door was the entrance to the conjoined room next door, it being the only room they had available at their current motel.
Before his eyes had even landed on the door he knew what he'd find. His father stood in the doorway with a selection of newspapers clasped in his hand, one foot slightly raised as if he'd halted mid-step, his eyes wider than usual and his mouth parted.
He shut his mouth and cleared his throat, simply raising an eyebrow when he said, "Am I interrupting something?"
Dean was sure there'd never been a time when he'd wanted to punch his father more and he was sure Hermione would at the next chance she got.
"Dad? Are you kidding me!" Dean's voice rose. "Get out," he said, his anger evident on his face and despite Hermione being completely hidden from him, Dean still pulled the blanket around her tighter as he felt her body shaking against him. He hoped to God it wasn't out of anger, the risk of her losing control of her magic and exposing herself was very high in that moment.
"Right, sorry," his father said, holding his hands up placatingly as he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. Dean knew his father. He wasn't sorry in the slightest, if anything, he'd found the situation entertaining.
Dean released a slow breath, calming his own anger and rolling stomach before he tried to pry the blanket off Hermione, but she had a strong grip and refused to let go.
"He's gone," Dean told her.
"Are you being fucking serious!" She raged, her voice muffled and he was actually grateful for it. "How the fuck am I supposed to look at him again! I can already imagine the fucking smirk he's going to be sporting the moment I step out of here."
"I know," he said, not even bothering to try and defend his father. Not only wouldn't she listen, he knew she was right and his father was in the wrong. They had a rule. Always knock or shout before entering their room. His father had broken it.
"I swear, I'm going to smack him in the face..."
"I'll join you," he replied, trying to pry the blanket off her once more but failing.
"And then I'm going to hex the bastard!"
"I'm all for it, but we can't expose your secret to him," he reminded her. "Baby, you're going to have to come out of there at some point, it must be getting harder to breathe and you can't stay in there forever."
"You wanna bet," she scoffed.
Dean sighed and gave up the fight for the blanket, remaining still and barely a few minutes later the heat got to her and she shoved the blanket away from her head, her bright red face coming into view. Whether it was embarrassment or anger, he wasn't sure; it was likely both.
"This can't continue, Dean."
"I know..."
"He has no respect for our relationship."
"I know..."
"He has no respect for our feelings."
"I know..."
"And he has no respect for our privacy."
"I know," he said, changing his tone as she didn't seem to be hearing that he agreed with her. "Trust me, I know, and I'm going to talk with him."
"Correction, we're going to talk to him," she replied, a frightening scowl on her face as she climbed from the bed, stormed to the bathroom and slammed the door shut so hard, it rattled.
That frightened Dean more. It was one thing for Hermione to use that wicked right hook of hers, it was another thing entirely for her to give someone a lecture.
He was almost afraid for his father. Almost. He still deserved it.
~000~000~000~
Dean sat on the edge of the made-up bed, his eyes darting between his father and Hermione. One, who sat slouched on a chair by the table with their arms folded and legs stretched out and the other, stood in the centre of the room with a furious, murderous gaze, a twitching hand and a soon to be tapping foot.
Hermione was as far from happy as a person could possibly be and he was a little worried she'd kill his father. Just to be sure he'd made her give him her wand which he'd stashed up his sleeve out of sight of his father, and he ensured there were no weapons within reach that she may use against him.
Any embarrassment she may have felt before was no longer there, it was all annoyance and fury.
"Alright, I'll start seeing as we'll be here forever if I don't," his father started and Dean would swear he saw Hermione's eye twitch. "I didn't see anything, I swear."
"Liar," Hermione replied.
"I'm not lying, I didn't see anything... Hear on the other hand..."
Hermione's right hand clenched into a fist and Dean watched her carefully.
"You broke the golden rule. Bloody knock before you come into our room."
"It's not like I knew what I'd be walking into," he rolled his eyes.
"That's the bloody point. We're in a relationship; people in relationships tend to have sex. But that's not the bloody case for us, is it!"
"Hell, it seems someone's a little tense, you not been taking care of her?" His father asked, turning his gaze to him.
Dean's eyes widened and he sprang from the bed, quickly catching Hermione around the waist and holding her back as she fought his hold and released a furious tirade on his smirking father. He couldn't understand any of it; the words weren't even in English! Spanish, French, Italian, Latin, he didn't know but they sure as hell weren't pleasantries, that much he knew.
"Oh, is the little madame frustrated?"
"Frustrated! I'm furious. We haven't had sex in weeks! With you and Sam always being around, we barely have enough privacy to bloody look at each other. I can't wait until this super powerful demon gun's found, and when we find the bastard demon you're looking for, I'm going to kill him myself. He'd bloody ruined my sex life!"
His father's mouth twitched in amusement. "I'll tell ya what, my little pent up ray of sunshine, I'll take Sammy out for a beer tonight, give you kids some time alone. How's that?"
"Oh, how very generous of you," Hermione replied sarcastically.
"I know it is, it's plenty enough time to have you taken care. Maybe you won't be so uptight afterwards."
"Uptight! Uptight!" Hermione raged and Dean winced at the rise in volume whilst also sending his father a glare as he struggled to hold her back. "How bloody dare you! You can take your generosity and shove it up your arse. I'm not having sex with my boyfriend because you schedule it into your calendar, no matter how much you think I need it! I'm not a prostitute and you're not my pimp, you can't tell me when I can and can't have sex. Dean, let go of me so I can smack him!"
"Not happening," he responded, his eyes moving to his smirking to father. "And you're not helping either, wipe that smirk off your face. You're supposed to be the older one here. Stop antagonising her or I will let her go," Dean warned.
"But it's so fun," his father argued.
Dean released a ragged sigh before Hermione broke free off his hold when she elbowed him in the stomach. He reached for her once more only she didn't attack his father like he'd thought she would, rather, she breathed heavily and pushed her hair back from her face and she remained in one spot. She looked to him and then to his father before she released an angry huff, storming over to the bed, grabbing both pillows and chucking them at his father. The first one hit him in the face, the second one he caught and his father burst into laughter as she stormed out of the room and into theirs.
"So, are you having sex tonight?" He called after her.
Hermione released a shriek of fury and her hairbrush came sailing into the room and with surprisingly good aim, it bounced straight off his father's head. He just laughed in response, rubbing at the aching spot.
"Tell ya what, I'll stay out till midnight. I'm your fairy Godfather, Cinderella, you shall get laid tonight!" He sing-shouted.
Dean honestly had no words for his father and he only just managed to duck in time as a shoe flew through the doorway and into the room, heading straight for his father and it was soon followed by another one. He caught them both easy enough, only Dean's eyes widened when the sun reflected off the silver knife that soared through the doorway.
Dean had never before questioned his father's sanity until that very moment. Hermione had frighteningly good aim and that was only proven when the knife lodged firmly in the wall right where his father had been positioned and if he hadn't of moved to the left when he had, he'd have found himself with a knife in his eyeball. And what did his father do? Laughed his ass off as he gripped two shoes in one hand, had a pillow covering his lap and held his ribs with the other hand, his eyes actually watering with tears of laughter and his face reddening. Dean had never seen his father laugh so much.
Dean didn't know what worried him most. His father's sanity, his father potentially passing out from laughter, his father having almost been killed by his girlfriend, his girlfriend having almost killed his father, or that his girlfriend had found the knives he'd hidden for the sole purpose of preventing her from trying to kill his father.
"I have your shoes now, and you're not getting them back!" His father called through his laughter.
Dean heard the slamming of a book against the surface of the table before Hermione stormed into the room, brushed past him and headed straight over to his father. Without warning, she smacked him over the back of the head, ripped her shoes from his grasp and then stomped on his foot before turning and leaving the room once more, his father's laughter only seeming to double.
"I love her!" He exclaimed, "She's the funniest little thing I've ever met!"
"I'm not little, I'm average height, you prat, call me that again and I'll kick you in the balls and then shoot you in the arse!" Hermione's voice fumed from the other room. "I've found the guns Dean hid from me!"
Dean released a deep breath to calm himself and he pushed his hand through his hair. He hated being in the middle of his father and Sam, but he hated it even more being stuck between his father and Hermione. All Sam and his father did was argue, Hermione tried to kill him! Releasing a grumbled breath, Dean knew he had to get Hermione away from his father before she actually did shoot him. He was just glad he still had her wand, knowing she could do some serious damage with it, more than a bullet was capable of.
"Next time, knock," Dean warned before he turned on his heel and left his father and his laughter behind.
When he stepped through the doorway and into their room, Hermione was just finishing up with tying her shoes and then she slipped on her jacket before turning to look at him.
"I'm not apologising," she said, lifting her chin and crossing her arms. "He was bang out of order."
Dean raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, being used to not understanding some of the words and phrases she used. He just put it down to it being a British thing.
"I'm not asking you to apologise, but really, throwing a knife at him?"
"You should've hidden them better," was her reply, before she turned her back to him, grabbed her magical purse and then left out the room, leaving the door open.
"Why? Why me?" He muttered, looking up to the ceiling before he quickly retrieved the hidden weapons, putting them back in their rightful places of being stashed in his waistband, under his jean leg and up his sleeve.
He looked to the other room where he could still hear his father's laughter though it appeared to be tapering off and then he headed for the door, almost walking straight into Sam.
"What've I missed?" He asked with a confused expression. "I could hear dad's laugh from the car and Hermione's outside instructing the cats to 'bite the asshole's nose off'."
"Give me a break," Dean grumbled, running a hand through his hair and Sam raised a questioning eyebrow. "You don't want to know."
"No, I really do," Sam disagreed. "Hermione's gripping a knife in her hand and staring at it as if it's the answers to all her problems and I can see you've got her favourite weapon," he tipped his head towards his arm.
Dean sighed before pushing the wand a little further up his sleeve and he made a mental note to take the knife off her once he was outside.
"Hermione's pissed at dad and he's been aggravating her all morning. She's thrown pillows at him, a hairbrush, shoes, and a knife."
"Shit! She tried to kill him! Can't believe I missed that."
"You're not helping," Dean glared. "For the time being, we need to keep them away from each other. I'm going with Hermione today, you go with dad."
"But I was supposed to be going with Hermione and you with dad," Sam said, not looking happy.
"Change of plans, if Hermione isn't kept away from dad, she'll kill him."
"So why can't you go with dad and I stay with Hermione?"
Dean's eyes darted to the other room where his father's laughter had finally stopped. "I'm not happy with him either. I'll hit him if I'm left alone with him."
Sam's eyes widened, knowing Dean had never threatened harm their father before. "Shit, what did he do?"
"You don't want to know," Dean replied. "But you're the middle man, I'm running all communication through you today. And if he mentions anything about Cinderella and going for a beer, shoot him."
Sam blinked in both confusion and surprise and Dean took the car keys from him and one of the two bags he was carrying, and left the room without explanation, hoping he'd chosen the right one that contained his and Hermione's food order but he'd doubt she'd mind what she had for breakfast as long as she had food.
As he made his way to the Impala, he saw Hermione crouched down beside the car with the three cats sat before her, listening attentively to what she had to say whilst her eyes darted between them and the knife in her hand, a terrifying smile on her face.
Dean had a long day ahead of him. He wasn't even sure what he'd do if his father did keep his word and took Sam out for a beer. Knowing Hermione, it'd go one of two ways. She'd refuse to comply with the intentions of their time alone simply to spite his father, not caring that she was so frustrated and risked magical outbursts, or, she'd do the exact opposite and keep Dean awake and busy for as long as she was able to, leaving them both in an exhausted, aching and sweaty mess, so much so, they would struggle to get out of bed in the morning.
Dean knew which he'd prefer, now he just had to be careful with what he said to ensure it happened. And if it didn't, he'd stab his father himself.