A random idea popped into my head last night as I was failing to fall asleep, and this story happened. I know, I know, I am nowhere near done with my other story, but I thought it would be a shame to let this one go to waste when I could share it. I will do my best to update both WIPs over time, so you can get your fix for both ;)

This story is Mature for a reason, so please walk away from it if you don't think you can handle it! I won't be putting trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters, so consider this your one and only warning : this story can turn quite dark and might contain violence, explicit sex scenes, dub con, stalkerish behaviour and so much more. Consider yourself warned!

I did not tag the mystery person as to not spoil their identity before the story gets to it. Hang tight...


The Little Darkness Within You

Chapter 1: I saw you.


When asked what the worst part was about being on the run all those years ago along with Harry and Ron, Hermione Granger's response would surprisingly be the lack of food. Of course, being hungry, even away from the context of war and constant fear, was a terrible feeling… If Ron's incessant complains seven times a day about hunger from their very first year at Hogwarts were anything to go by, that is. But on the run, with nothing to eat for days on end, even the youngest Weasley boy had to admit, until that terrible year, he has never known hunger.

The war came and went, the dust settled, the Light won. Yet, those who lived it still remembered it. The hunger, the weakness that came with it that no amount of wild mushrooms and plants could ever curb. The countless attempts and failures to focus on a task, any task, when the grumbling of the hungry stomach became deafening. After a while on the run, their stomachs stopped screaming for food. In fact, maybe they should have let more and more time go between each meal, because the hunger that came after a meal was the worst. It would twist and contort their stomach up to their pain threshold.

The war has been over for a decade, almost to the day. The charmed calendar on the wall showed it being April 26th, 2008. Nearly ten whole years since Hermione ran from Death for the last time. Ten years, during which she never had to scavenge for food and wonder if she would end up poisoning herself and her best friends with a toxic mushroom she failed to recognise. A decade, yet Hermione sat at her desk, her stomach grumbling like she rarely heard it before. She put down her quill and looked over at the clock. It was already 10pm. On a Saturday. She did not work on Saturdays. Hermione's stomach let out yet another angry growl, reminding her that except copious amounts of tea, she had yet to eat that day. In fact, she could not remember the last time she had a proper, decent meal. Probably not since she started her new position as Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

The job itself was everything she loved and much more. It was easy to throw yourself in the motions and forget about life. Setting goals and meeting them, time and time again. She felt fulfilled reshaping laws and making sure she would never have to idly witness the damages of prejudice and social class. She would be loath to admit it, but ever since Scrimgeour planted the seed in her mind the last time she saw him alive, she knew this would ultimately be something for her. The issue with a job that means the world to her and for which she gave all her time and energy, meant that there was time for little else.

Ron had long moved on from their relationship. And what a relationship that was. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but it took them only three years and a failed engagement to realise that they wanted different things in life. Ronald wanted a big family and enough brats running around to compete with his own parents' achievement. He very much wanted Hermione to be like his mother, maybe that was something he ought to have discussed with a Mind Healer. He failed to understand that she would not stay home and care for half a dozen kids if not more, and that she had not gone back to Hogwarts to get her N.E. in cooking and cleaning spells. She was always a lot more ambitious than he ever was, and their constant bickering and fighting over her long work hours and her unwillingness to stop taking contraceptive potions long enough for her to fall pregnant, eventually led to the end of their relationship.

They were still friends, although it had taken them both a long while to get over each other and be in a good enough mental space to forgive and forget. Ron married a pretty woman he met in Auror training named Cassie, and they were good for each other. They never bickered, they ate all their meals together, and she was already pregnant with his third child. Despite their past, Hermione was always invited once a week over at the Weasleys for a family lunch. She always went, as it meant Harry would be there, having married Ginny, there was hardly any question about his presence. All the Weasleys still loved and cared about her as if she was a member of their family, something she valued above all else.

But it has been weeks, no, months, since she was last seen at a Sunday lunch at the Burrow. Harry had stormed in one day as she was crawling under paperwork demanding she tell him what Ron has said or done that she would avoid them all for so long. One long look at her office, her desk and even a good portion of the floor littered with documents convinced him that, no, Ron hasn't done anything, surprisingly.

There have been many attempts to make her take a vacation, or at least some days off where she could be anywhere else but in her office. If Hermione was described to be anything, stubborn would be at the very top. She needed to get through her workload before she went home for the day but working in her field meant that the workload only got bigger and bigger the more work you put in, and she would find herself stuck under a mountain of paperwork by the time the clock struck 10pm. On a Saturday. A day off.

With a deep sigh, she put her shoes back on, and waved her wand around her office, reorganising her documents. As she put on her coat, she swore to herself that she would no come in tomorrow, and that she will actually have a proper dinner before she went home.

With one last look at her office, she doused the lights with a flick of her wand and walked the long corridor out of her DMLE office towards the elevators. The whole place was filled to the brim with witches and wizards, but this late at night on the weekend, she would not be surprised if she were the only person present in the entire building. It was rather creepy with little light and no one around. As much as she loved her job, she did not like the MoM building. Ever since she stormed the Department of Mysteries on her fifth year with her friends, she could still feel the hair at the back of her neck stand up whenever she stayed late. The unease she felt never stopped her from leaving work long after everyone did.

Only her steps echoed in the massive halls, as she reached the lifts. Before she even pressed on the button, she heard one of the lifts moving in the bowels of the Ministry. Well, that's odd, she thought, before pressing the button. Her ride arrived and the metal doors opened loudly. She stepped in and pressed the Atrium button, holding on to the side bar as she travelled from level two to level eight.

She stepped out of the lift and started walking towards the Apparition point. She decided to stop by at the Leaky Cauldron for a bite to eat, despite it being a little after ten on a Saturday night. She remembered the day again, and realised she was bound to come across friends and co-workers at the pub, and they will for sure ask her to join them for a glass or two. Remembering her promise to herself, she decided she will still go to the Leaky Cauldron instead of Muggle London. As she was about to Apparate away, she heard the lifts again. She looked over as a man dressed all in black and with a Panama hat walked out. She did not recognise his face at this distance. He was holding a leather suitcase with initials embroidered in gold that she could not read. He stopped in his tracks as he saw her in the distance. Not wanting to look like she was spying, Hermione Apparated away.

Who was the man, and why was he so startled to see her? Was it another workaholic surprised to see they weren't the only one with no one to go home to on the weekend? Why were they acting so suspicious? She regretted leaving and not confronting him, or at the very least, waiting until he was close enough to recognise.

Hermione shook her head in an attempt to silence her never ending stream of questions about what she witnessed. Whoever it was, they were probably only startled to see someone at the late hour. Their behaviour was not necessarily shady, because if being at work late on a weekend was considered suspicious activity, Hermione would have a lot to answer to.

As soon as she pushed the door to the Leaky Cauldron, her ears were assaulted by the laughter and chatter of all the people enjoying their evening with friends. She pushed her way through the crowd until she reached the bar. Hannah Longbottom, née Abbott, was serving a patron when she spotted Hermione and gave her a bright wide smile. Ever since she married Neville and became the Landlady here, she seemed to thrive. Her generous and loving Hufflepuff nature worked wonders, so much so that although the Leaky Cauldron was already a very busy place prior, it became even more popular in the recent years.

"Hermione! You are a sight for sore eyes."

"It's lovely to see you, Hannah."

Hermione tiptoed on the edge of the bar to hug her friend across it. As they let go, her eyes fell on the witch's bump.

"God! You are expecting! How far along are you?"

"We are, finally! I am six months along. You would have known sooner if you did not hole yourself in your office day in and day out," Hannah teased.

"I'm sorry for disappearing for a bit, Hannah. I've been meaning to reach out so many times, but it seems there just isn't enough hours in a day to do everything that has to be done."

"Kind of makes you wish you had a Time-Turner again then doesn't it?" she asked with a wink.

Hermione was about to answer when her eyes fell on the man that had just reached the bar on the other end. He was in the process of removing his Panama hat when his gaze met hers. It was the very same man she saw in the Atrium. She never saw him before, which might be totally normal in the Muggle world, but Wizarding society was small in the country. Unless he was a foreigner, she was sure she had seen every face there is to see in Britain at least once over the years. His brown hair was cut short, his beard neatly trimmed, and his blue eyes were as transfixed on her as hers on him. Although she was sure she had never seen the man before, there seemed to be a flash of recognition in his eyes. She did not know him, but he for sure knew her, or at least knew of her. He smirked at the prolonged eye contact.

Hannah chuckled when she followed Hermione's gaze and realised she was in the middle of a staring competition with the man across the room.

"He is very handsome. I'm sure if you go over, he might buy you a drink."

Hannah whispered the words just loud enough for her to hear. Hermione's cheeks turned a light pink as she tore her eyes away from the stranger to see the cheeky grin on her friend's face.

"I will not walk over to a stranger and ask them for a drink," she scoffed. "Do you know who it is?"

"Haven't the foggiest. First time I've seen him. But if you two continue eye-fucking each other, I'll have no choice but to rent you one of the rooms upstairs" she answered with a wink.

Hermione's cheeks burned at the idea of inviting a man into her bed, or into one of the Leaky Cauldron's beds for that matter. It had been way too long since she took her nose out of her paperwork long enough to notice any man worth the trouble. Since her breakup with Ron, she went on a few dates and had a few one-night stands with various bachelors, but none of them took her fancy enough to consider dating long-term. As it happens, the last time anyone warmed her bed was over a year ago. Hermione cleared her throat at the shame of wasting her young years at work and not letting a man do delicious things between her thighs. Choosing not to dwell on the very little action she was getting in the bedroom department, she asked about the evening menu. She ordered a pork pie and a glass of red wine, that she ate as she continued talking to Hannah, throwing a few shy glances over to the captivating man.

He was quite captivating. Bar the fact that he was a handsome stranger, Hermione's questions from before she walked into the pub were back in full swing. If she ever wanted answers to her questions, she might just have to walk over there and casually ask the man what he was doing working so late at the Ministry on a weekend. After polishing her plate and ordering a new glass of wine, she chanced another look at the man, who was also looking at her, that devilish smirk still adorning his face.

Hermione stood up; her decision made. With Hannah's encouragement she decided she will go over and ask all the unanswered questions that threatened to burn her tongue. She grabbed her glass and defied the crowd again to reach the end of the bar where the stranger sat. By the time she pushed past the last people around the corner, he was gone. She surveyed the area, but she did not see him. Did he see her coming and left before she could bother him? Just as she was going to walk back to her spot with a sigh, she noticed the suitcase he carried was still on the ground by his stool. Maybe he just went to the loo and will come back for it. She waited a few minutes, but still no sign of the man.

Hannah rang the bell for closing time, and people started leaving. She might have a better chance at spotting him she thought, but even when it was only her and Hannah left in the pub, still no sign of him. Her eyes dropped at the suitcase again. This time she could read the embroidered initials on the side of it, and it might give her a clue on who it might be. However, she still had no idea who D. R. might be.

"Mystery Man has left his suitcase"

"That's weird, was he in a hurry to leave? I did not see him walk out."

"He probably saw me walking towards him and fled as fast as he could, forgetting his belongings," Hermione grumbled.

"Do not think for a second that he ran away from you, witch."

Hermione grabbed the handle of the suitcase and sat it on the bar.

"I guess it's best if you keep it Hannah, he will probably come back here looking for it."

"Or… you hold on to it for safe keeping, and when he does come back for it, I can just point him to the very pretty witch he eye-fucked for the whole evening."

Hermione laughed. She loved Hannah very much, although she often tried to set her up with some of her patrons. Hermione could not deny though, that whoever this D. R. is, her interest was piqued. If he wanted to get his suitcase back, he would first have to introduce himself properly.