Hi guys!

OMG - I reached 100k views combined on both fanfiction-platforms! I could have never prayed for such a response, so thank you all so so so so soooo much for reading, for supporting me. I love each and every one of you guys and I can't express in enough words how much this all means to me!

To celebrate this milestone, I want to thank a few of my supporters personally :) Thank you to PkScholar, tlc125, pcaulink, PurpleLotus, Genevieve, Marie_J_Granger, theblackbird123, Pontus, Bernicci and ollievie. You have left a lot of reviews over the last couple of weeks and they have kept me going! I also want to think my best friend Franky again, for giving me the most awesome inspiration and helping with the research I've been doing for this fic.

Okay, onto the quick summary: first bit has SMUT again (yay :D), but it quickly gets more political and interesting plot-wise :) Very interested to see what you guys think! And don't worry - we'll hear from Hermione's family soon enough ;)

Thanks again guys! Love you!

Flora.

Chapter 25: How Hermione witnessed what could quite possibly be the end of Harry Potter's career

Hermione woke up to find herself clutched tightly to Harry's chest. The events of yesterday rushed back to her as she yawned off her slumber.

They had been drunk. They attempted to have sex. They didn't manage. She bled a tiny bit. Harry panicked.

Her heart ached when she thought about Harry, so vulnerable in her arms, childlike and sweet and broken. The war took its toll on all of them. She had often wondered why Harry hadn't been more damaged by the war, but it was only now she realized that he had hid it on purpose. She was also convinced that if the event's hadn't spiralled out of control, like yesterday, he would have hidden it from her as long as he would have been able to.

That was the big taboo. Talking about the effects of the war. Not talking about events, or about people they lost, but talking about what it did to them. Nicky told her Ron had a lot of nightmares as well, but never spoke about what they were exactly. She knew Harry had them. She had them. But whereas the nightmares kicked Harry violently awake, they stunned her in her sleep, making her unable to move a muscle. She feared those nights more than anything, but was glad to find that Harry seemed to have a good influence on her subconscious, as she hadn't experienced them since they shared a bed together.

It's one thing to talk about heroic deeds. Another to admit the burden they brought. Hermione was open and communicative, but she understood why Harry hid his insecurities, as she hid some of her own as well. She had seen a Muggle psychiatrist for three years, who performed something called EMDR-therapy on her. It had helped her with her traumas tremendously. She knew Harry had seen a Healer, who had done something similar but with the de- and replacement of his memories. Talking about it seemed moot, though. They were alive, they had each other, they worked at good jobs and their families were intact. There was so much to celebrate and to enjoy. No need to wallow in self-pity.

So, the fact that she bled a bit, that she hurt – she would overcome it. She would lie to herself if she said she didn't feel guilty or ashamed – she did. She was a girl. Penetration should come natural to her and failing was one of her deepest, darkest fears. A few books had warned her about overthinking, Harry had warned her, and her body had seemed to close off yesterday because she had done just that. No, it would be completely different next time. She would be relaxed, they would take it slow. No more randy attempts at shagging until they had they time to experience the real thing together. There were other things to try at such moments.

She looked up at Harry, who was drooling on his pillow, face stained with fabric wrinkles, hair exploded. It made her smile. Come what may, she thought. We will manage.

She kissed his chest, his shoulders, then moved up to kiss his nose, his scar, the corner of his mouth. Harry made a soft humming sound and opened one eye.

'I am sleeping,' he murmured.

'I am awake,' she countered cheekily.

'So I've noticed.' He closed his eye again and pretended to drift off to sleep again.

'You've drooled on my pillow.'

'Have since Christmas.'

'Does that make it okay?'

Harry grinned and pursed his lips.

'Kissy.'

Hermione laughed and placed her lips on his.

'I'm sorry for vomiting yesterday,' Harry said. 'It must have freaked you out.'

'It's okay. Was it the alcohol?'

'Possibly,' Harry admitted, eyes still closed. 'Or you bleeding. Even though it ended up being three drops at most and I've experienced crime scenes. I shouldn't have run off. Should've thought of you first. You know, checked if you were bleeding out before running off to the bathroom.'

'I wasn't bleeding out,' Hermione said, reacting to Harry's sarcasm. 'And by the way: you panicked. You can't control your body when you do, Harry.'

He opened his eyes now and traced his fingers across Hermione's bare arms.

'I know. Thank you for holding me. It meant a lot.'

'Of course. I love you.'

'I love you too,' Harry said, leaning forward and brushing his lips against hers.

'Ugh, you smell like a moose.'

Hermione opened her mouth in an offended "O" and Harry cackled as he jumped out of the bed.

'You get back in here and give me a proper kiss, you moron!'

Harry grinned at her as he fled to the kitchen. She chased him and managed to pin him against the kitchen counter. He let her, she knew, because he could have escaped any time, but he indulged in their kiss and swept his tongue against hers, holding her firmly in his arms.

'Hmm, I really do love you, kissing you with a breath like that,' he chuckled against her skin. He kissed her cheek, her neck, pinned his hands against her bum and pressed her into him. Hermione gasped.

'Merlin, I want to have you for breakfast.'

He breathed against her skin, teasing her collarbone. She felt his erection grow against her frame and a heat immediately began to pool between her legs.

'You can,' she whispered back.

Harry reacted with an approving groan and she felt him guide her towards the dinner table.

'What do you think you're doing?' she heard herself ask.

'Putting my breakfast on the table,' Harry grinned, as he tried to lift her off the floor.

'No, Harry. No. Harry! It's my table – We eat our food from there!'

'Nothing a well-cast Scourgify can't fix,' Harry tried, but she looked at him sternly.

'I will not have the possibility of anything of… us contaminating our food, thank you very much.'

'Okay, fine. Sofa?'

'Sofa is good.'

'Nice,' Harry decided, as he lifted her up by her waist and clumsily carried her to the living room. Hermione protested lightly – only lightly, because she loved how affectionate Harry was being.

'The fact you want me in your living room, in closer proximity to your books, is insane. I never guessed food was more important to you! Madam Pince is going to be very disappointed with you, Hermione.'

'"Disappointed" is not the right word, I think. "Jealous" would be more fitting,' she said, brushing her hand through Harry's silky, black hair. God, she loved the soft texture of his raven locks, the way it never seemed to abide by any normal laws of physics, just like hers. If they would ever procreate, their kids would be doomed.

Soon she was touching those hairs again, but this time it was more of a tugging, as she desperately tried to guide him between her legs. The sight of Harry opening her folds carefully with his fingers, then lapping at her centre was enough to get her very close to climaxing. His emerald eyes sparkled with joy and lust and admiration – they looked naughty and sweet at the same time, and Harry refused to break eye-contact as his tongue meticulously traced her folds. He was so gentle, attentively exploring her body, making sure to not create any soreness or pain. He wetted his middle finger before he pushed inside of her. There was a slight, slight pain, probably caused by yesterday's friction, but it subsided quickly as Harry moved in and out, making sure he was suckling slowly on her most sensitive spots. Hermione saw stars, as the combination of his mouth and his finger was too intoxicating, and when Harry let her breathe for a few moments, he continued with his ministrations. Slowly, softly, he removed his finger, then wetted his index finger as well.

'Is it okay if I try it with both at the same time?' he asked, and Hermione couldn't do anything but nod, as her half-lidded eyes focused on his green orbs. They were mesmerizing.

It wasn't comfortable at first. Harry had never been inside of her with two fingers before, and for the first few moments, she didn't know if she liked being stretched. It was foreign, and the surface of her vagina stung a bit. She felt herself tensing to the weird feeling, but as Harry brushed that part inside of her, she let out a mangled "Ugh".

'Try to relax around my fingers,' he said. 'I feel that you're not. I will only move if I feel that you are comfortable, okay?'

Hermione nodded. She felt ashamed for not liking it instantly – weren't all girls supposed to love being penetrated? – and she felt herself tense some more. She could feel herself squeeze painfully around Harry's fingers. Calm down, she heard herself say. Harry's expecting nothing from you. This will be nice if you allow yourself to focus on how good it feels, and not on how anything is supposed to be.

Harry sensed Hermione's unease and began placing sensual kisses just above his fingers. He circled his tongue lazily around her nub, flicking it, closing his lips around it, teasing it, and Hermione could literally feel the tension glide from her body. Harry felt it as well, as he began to pump his fingers in and out now, at a steady rhythm, making sure to curl the fingers inside of her after each thrust. The feeling of being stretched and licked at the same time, was incredibly overwhelming. She yanked at Harry's hair, which stopped him for a moment, but he continued when he realized it was a good yank. Their gazed met again – his green eyes were filled with deep lust, they seemed to be darkened a little, and he looked so freaking handsome with his rowdy hair, his puffed lips, his smug look, his gleaming eyes. Harry hummed approvingly at their eye-contact, smirking against her centre, and closed his mouth around her clitoris, suckling in a rhythm that mimicked the movements of his fingers. It was right then that Hermione's climax hit her body again. It was so intense she started heaving, and her body contracted heavily, and she really did forget who she was for a second. The only thing she knew were those eyes, those beautiful green eyes, and that she would commit bloody murder for them.

When she woke up from her trance, Harry lay pressed against her on the now magically enlarged sofa, stroking her hair and purring contently.

'You have no idea how beautiful you are when you allow me to take control,' he whispered. It weakened her knees immediately and she produced a weak smile, still exhausted.

'I'll take your word for it.'

'You should. I've been watching you almost the entire time.'

She now noticed that he held her hand between his fingers. His lips were grazing over her knuckles and he looked at her with a look that could only mean pure adoration.

'We should be getting ourselves ready. Work is in thirty minutes.'

Hermione shook her head and leaned against Harry's shoulder, basking in his warmth.

'Just a little longer.'

'Who are you and what did you do to "prim and punctual" Hermione Granger?'

'What did I do?' she laughed, accusatory. 'You know damn well I didn't do anything. I just had to lie down and enjoy the treatment.'

'And enjoying you did,' Harry chuckled. 'Right, just a little longer then, okay. I can never say no to you anyway.'

'Good,' Hermione said, as she felt herself move up from the coach.

'What are you doing?'

'You said you could never say "no" to me, right? I want some breakfast too.'

They were both fully satisfied and also ten minutes late when they finally entered The Ministry together. It was stupid – they always made sure to go to work with a separation time of at least a few minutes, but because they were both late, they decided to step out of the hearth together for this one time. Usually it would be too crowded for anyone on The Ministry to really notice.

Today was no such day, though. It was simply tough luck – one Daily Prophet journalist and his photographer had been doing research for a very boring article in the Arrival Hall, as Harry and Hermione almost simultaneously stepped out. They hadn't been as stupid as to hold hands, thank Merlin, but it was very clear that they had taken a floo from the same apartment.

'Mister Potter, Mrs. Granger! What a surprise – am I assuming correctly that you came from the same address?' a young, annoying reporter asked, that looked like she would be a good apprentice to Rita Skeeter.

'Harry and I had some confidential business to discuss,' Hermione said promptly, before Harry could open his mouth. 'I have been assisting him in a case and he came to my apartment to ask for advice. We will continue our talk in Harry's office and it would be very much appreciated if you would give us the opportunity to get there without too much of a disturbance.'

They passed the witch without giving her a second glance.

'You've always been so quick with your wit,' Harry said under his breath. 'I have no idea how you come up with those ideas so quickly.'

'Because I wasn't lying – not fully, at least,' Hermione explained. 'Bill had something interesting to discuss with me yesterday. I actually do want to come to your office to talk it over with you.'

'Very good at keeping us and work separated, huh,' he grinned. 'I appreciate that.'

Hermione gave a sideway smirk to him as they both descended to the Auror Department. Hermione scribbled a quick memo to let her secretary know she was with Harry for at least the first part of the morning.

Harry's office was un-Harry-like clean, but it was still undeniably his, as pictures of him and Teddy and him, her and Ron laughed at them from the walls. An old picture of Lily and James, that Hermione recognized from his nightstand at Hogwarts and the Horcrux Hunt, had a prominent place on his desk, just next to his name plate. Harry took off his overcoat – a navy blue coat with black hem, to reveal the official Auror uniform he wore underneath. It was a nice, fitted jacket with deep grey, shiny buttons and a high collar, that made Harry look incredibly handsome. She would never admit it out loud, but Harry looked mouth-watering in his working outfit and she had quite often found him wearing it in some of her not so appropriate fantasies. Maybe she could ask him to wear it in that way… Someday, at least.

Harry offered her a chair, as he asked Polly for two cappuccino's. Then he closed the door, sat behind his desk and cleaned his glasses.

'What can I help you with, Miss Granger?'

He mockingly used an over-official tone and Hermione giggled.

'Well, Mister Potter, this is actually a very serious conversation. Bill has… evidence, that something is amiss with the Goblins that asks for the concern of the Auror Department.'

'Oh?' Harry asked, curiously. 'Do tell.'

'You know Bill has been taking over the negotiating position for establishing better rights for the Goblins. It's something that should have been done years ago, as the Goblins could have played a vital role in the assistance of the Ministry during the First and Second Wizarding War, but as there is a deeply rooted problem with racism in our Departments, actions haven't been taken thus far. Goblins are treated like second class citizens and they remember that. The reason why I stepped down from the project was because the Goblins still felt very offended over our Gringott Heist.'

Harry nodded respectfully.

'We need to make amends and me and my colleagues have looked at extensive ways to make them feel at ease with the Wizarding Community again. For example, we might want to propose the allowance of wand usage for Goblins and House-Elves, something that has been widely requested by the first group for centuries now. We also want to propose something regarding the property of Goblin-made antiquities. Bill has been testing the waters about these ideas with Goblins he has befriended over the last couple of years as his job as a curse breaker.

Right, to cut to the chase – Bill has heard that we are not the only group of Wizards who are trying to get into closer contact with the Goblins. Even his closest friends were very reluctant to talk to him, which struck him as odd. After some pressing, one of his Goblin friends told him that they were already negotiating with another group of Wizards. A group that has been trying to overthrow the current Ministry.'

'That sounds like Nott,' Harry immediately stated. 'We did find some old artefacts during the raids. We thought they were treasures at first – I'll have them checked, they might all be goblin-made.'

'Exactly. Now, I know you aren't allowed to tell me about the places the raids took place in, right?'

'No, I am,' Harry said. 'It's an Unspeakable to share them with anyone outside of the Ministry's jurisdiction, but you fit right into it. I actually have a map of all the previous den's, let me get it for you.'

He stood up from his desk and opened a wooden cupboard, where he started to rummage through some big posters. Polly knocked on the door and entered with a tray filled with cappuccino and a plate with biscuits.

'With chocolate chip, Polly! You're spoiling us,' Hermione said, smiling. 'Thank you.'

'You're welcome, Miss. Also, Mister Potter, Mrs. Holywell has been looking for you.'

'Well, she's knows where to find me,' Harry grumbled, uninterested. 'Where is this darn… Ah! Here!'

Triumphantly he held the rolled-up poster above his head.

'Thanks for the coffee, Polly. You are amazing. Did you have a good weekend?'

Polly nodded with a slight blush on her cheeks and retreated from the office, as Harry magically straightened the roll. A map of the United Kingdom appeared, with a variation of coloured dots indicating the den's.

'Okay, so, the width of the dots tells how big the hide-outs were we discovered,' Harry explained. 'The colours indicate if we discovered henchmen, clues, or other important leads of information about Nott's network. Do you remember the day we went out for lunch and I had feathers on me?'

Hermione nodded, thinking back fondly of that moment. It seemed an eternity ago.

'Right, that was the day I caught Lackey. So, this purple dot near Glasgow, indicates that we caught one or more suspects at the scene.'

'Interesting,' Hermione said, finding herself get excited and nervous at the same time. 'Did you know there is a Goblin society near Glasgow as well? As they don't like sunlight, Goblins usually build their houses at least partially underground. That's also why humans guard the outside of Gringotts – they hate going outside… And this dot' – she pointed at the biggest one, located near Nottingham – 'is near a very prominent Goblin village. Voldemort himself targeted the village as well to put pressure on the Goblins to join him.'

Harry looked at her astounded.

'You-… You're kidding! So all these dots could possibly be located near goblin societies?'

'Seems so,' Hermione said, pensively. 'I mean, I also see a few on the map where I can't link an immediate Goblin-connection with, but you can't expect all their hide-outs to be built just to enforce some kind of influence on the Goblins… But wow, Harry, do you know what this means?'

'You have totally cracked our case wide open,' Harry said, excitedly. 'This is exactly what we needed! You are brilliant, Hermione, absolutely bloody brilliant… Oh – I could kiss you!'

'I'm afraid that would be very inappropriate.'

A clear, female voice cut through the room. Hermione turned her head and recognized Harry's superior – an older woman with blond hair, tied in a tight bun on top of her head.

'Mister Potter, you were late, this morning.'

Hermione looked at Harry, whose expression changed so quickly that it could have been comical if the situation wasn't so serious. He sighed angrily and got up from his chair.

'Yes. I'm afraid I overslept.'

'We talked about this, Mister Potter-…'

'I know. I will stay late, as I always do. I'll try to be more punctual next week. But Eleonore – Hermione and I found some very good evidence that will get us further on the case, and-…'

'The Nott-case?' Mrs. Holywell asked, her voice now shrill. 'You are discussing classified information with an outsider without consulting me, first?'

'I received some important information from another worker at the Ministry that might be of interest to your investigation,' Hermione interjected. 'I came to Harry with this information, as I know him best, he didn't do anything wrong.'

'Oh, but he did,' Mrs. Holywell stated simply. 'Harry knows that if valuable information is acquired, he should always invite his superior to join the conversation.'

'I would have told you,' Harry said, trying to stay as calm as he could. 'I was simply testing out if Hermione's information was indeed in connection to our case. I didn't want to-… disturb you yet, as you've been so busy lately, Eleonore. But of course, if the information proved to be of value, I would have invited you immediately.'

He smiled at her thinly, without the gesture actually meeting his eyes, a smile his boss reciprocated. Hermione got the feeling that Harry hadn't been honest with her about how work had been going lately.

'Good. How much longer do you need to test out the value of this information?'

'Forty minutes or so,' Harry lied, looking at Hermione. 'I want to ask some detailed questions about the credibility of her source. I will try to report to you in an hour.'

Hermione knew Harry lied because he wanted to talk about this promising lead some more. She had felt the excitement and rush too – it was like they were back at Hogwarts, getting to the bottom of an interesting mystery, and they didn't need any snoopers present for that. Hermione knew Harry regarded his superior as a definite busybody in that sense.

'Forty minutes… Right.'

Eleonore Holywell gave that same, unmeant smile again, as she began to retreat from the office. Harry was on edge: Hermione noticed that by his stance, the way his breath quickened, the look on his face.

'I'll see you in an hour, then.'

Eleonore almost turned a corner, but then popped her head back in, as if she remembered something.

'And Harry – if you and Miss Granger are occupying your office together, I expect your door to be wide open from now on. I'm sure you'll take no offence.'

Eleonore stepped out of the office, with that same sickening smile, and Hermione could almost hear Harry's boiling point getting reached.

'Harry, no, please, don't do anything stupid,' she pleaded, but Harry rushed past her like a bull heading for a red target. That temper of his! She always hoped he would grow out of it as puberty hit him, but no such luck.

'What did you say?' Harry seethed, from the doorpost, at his superior that walked away in the very public hallway.

'I don't think I need to repeat my request, nor do I think that I need to explain it, Mister Potter.'

'Hermione is my best friend,' Harry countered. 'I have done dozens of cases with her for this Department. She has proven to be of great value to our team and has spent hours upon hours in my office with the door closed. Aside from that – it is my office, and I decide what I do with my bloody door!'

'And I am your superior and I will not allow members of our team to frolic on their desks under my supervision!'

Even from her seat across Harry's desk, Hermione could see Harry turn pale with anger.

'"Frolic" on my desk?' Harry spoke calmly, but a tremor in the undertone caused him to sound incredibly dangerous. 'You think I treat my job as some kind of joke, Eleonore?'

'As of late – yes, actually,' his boss countered. 'You have.'

'Then reprimand me, you spineless hag,' Harry spat. 'I am the only bloody Auror in this whole damn Department who actually works for this case. Who uses his intuition, who goes the extra mile. You know that. You know that, and somehow, you treat me like some irresponsible golden child, who needs to be mothered and polished to do your every bidding-…'

'How did you call me?' Auror Holywell shouted. Hermione imagined red sparks flying from her wand, but she was frozen to her chair.

'I called you a spineless hag,' Harry repeated. 'You are just as dishonest as all those other left-overs from Fudge's rule over the Ministry. You're a brainwashed, old-Fudge's wrinkly asshole licking, weak-willed coward.'

Hermione put her hand across her mouth in shock. Oh Harry!

'Well, that settles it then, Mister Potter,' she heard Head Auror Holywell say. 'I will not reprimand you. But you are fired. Immediately discharged, without honour. I want your Office cleared out by the end of the day.'