Disclosure Hp belongs to JKR. The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux

Chapter 12 Let's try once more

Warning: this chapter contains imagery rated M.

The guardian/ex-watcher rules.

The watchers all received the same briefing. Some were unhappy, but they were the rules. After all, each one of them had done something quite wicked to deserve the punishment of living in a limbo of sorts.

The Rules

The recommended maximum number of guardians per individual was one at a time, as per the findings of the Council of the Realms. Additionally, the elders have found an increased risk for a realm-take-over, whenever gatherings of too many powerful beings are allowed during an extended time period. Their combined powers would be difficult to control, and many of you have been in one kind of trouble or another.

Such a group would be similar to the ones created during the period of the Greek gods, the Norse gods and so on. The current modern world would resist, and who knows what the consequences would be, maybe an all out war for dominance.

Careful research was done to manage this unprecedented activation. It was finally decided to make a schedule to rotate pairs every day of the month with a couple spare guardians. As time went on, children would get their own guardian. This way, the balances of time and space will not be broken and will prevent the feared result.

xxxxxx. Signed xxxx

The feat of the first night would not be repeated, at least not any time soon, and that was sad. However, during their 24 hour cycle, the guardian 'angel' would be at its maximum potential, fresh, strong, fully charged thus powerful, and ready to go. The others would sit back, trained and ready to deploy at an instant's notice. They could all come for large advertised events as such as weddings, funerals, and so on, but never more than half.

Some did argue that it would be unfair to put the lives of the couple in any kind of danger. After all, by law, the guardians belonged to them, and there would be times when two guardians might not be enough. So if they should be involved in a large conflict something would change; the final decision would be modified for such times, and as deemed as necessary.

The Suitors that Weren't – and What is Viktor?

Harry stayed awake for a short while. Neither Ron nor Harry, had told the witch how sad and mournful Bill had been. Both had personal reasons; in Ron's case because, it is sad to say, he did love her, but it wasn't a mature love. Could it had grown into one? Perhaps, but that would have taken time, and that would not happen.

As for Harry, he wanted his friend to be with him during the coming ordeal, and maybe have a chance to win her heart. They were normal humans, like any of us, as you know; once we lose someone to be treasured, we want them back.

However, Harry was, by far, more mature than Ron, and knew that he would never have a chance as long as Bill was alive.

As for Viktor, he was one of those rare people that knew what he wanted and knew what would make him happy. He had known since she was 15. He'd wanted the chance to develop their mutual attraction into a mature relationship, and had chartered his life towards that goal. He would never give up, it was not in him, not in any of his brethren. He would wait it out, even if not alone.

On Viktor, Hermione had a friend and a loyal admirer for a lifetime, no matter how their lives should turn out. And he knew that sometimes things happened. He'd made a vow, now, or in 50 years or more, he would drop it all for her, in a heart's beat. He had to. It matter none his parents didn't like her Muggle status; it wasn't their call.

These thoughts were going thru him, while waiting to fall asleep. Why worry, time was relative. After all, his grandparents were a bit over 200 years old, much over, many fold. He smiled at the subterfuge to hide their ages. They had properties all over the place, very convenient. And his own parents had him, when they were a day or two short of 120, he had nothing but time.

Their secret, he would not tell anyone, it was better that way; many wouldn't understand. He chuckled at his father's recent comeback, "We drink baby's blood to stay young." Ha, ha, he thought;if only.

A pureblood he might be, but no all were made alike. Besides, he had been told by a powerful seer that he would be with her in the future. He'd believed and had nothing to worry about, he could later gift her with a very long life. Yeah, he could wait, and would live as close to her as he could. He smiled at the possibilities, and sleep finally came.

A ring for his bride.

Bill woke after two hours realizing the obvious, where were Ron and Harry? Aha, they were with his witch. Where? Where else, yup, he knew where. At least he was hoping, and he had a strong hunch. But before going in a tangent, he got out of bed and went into his brother's room. Aha, empty, neither Ron nor Harry were to be found.

He dressed comfortably; packed a few things, picked up his wallet. There you go, 800 Galleons, the honeymoon money. The witch might be going back to school in a few weeks, but first, they would complete their mating. He had read about it and knew it needed to happen for both of their sakes. They would go to Spain; he would buy her a ring while they were there. He needed to stop by Gringotts to get another 500 galleons. Ah, and he needed to read the scroll from the Ministry that had gone missing. He was sure it was a certificate of their new status.

He had saved a lot throughout the years. All the sons, except Ron, had been able to help his parents with the tuitions at Hogwarts, trips to Egypt, Romania, and the continent, and he still had saved a good bit of gold. He would need to pay for his witch's last years at school but it was not a problem, and even if she wanted to study more, there was enough. His mind was already made up.

He laughed at Lobo's suggestion,Silly human, ask the chicken to give the ring back.

Too outrageous, first, she was not at a chicken, and second, she would turn into a Harpy if he were to attempt to get the ring back. Chicken Fricassee, that is the solution to you dilemma, was Lobo's last polite observation.

Bill broke into raucous laughter, his mood already lighter, and his heart wishing for his mate. On that thought, he needed to pick up a few more galleons. And he would need to buy her some clothes in Spain, maybe some naughty Muggle knickers; he had seen some of hers in the laundry. Yes, and to tell the truth, they'd smelled rather fine. True, it had been naughty and even reprehensible at the time, but hey, he wasn't perfect. Hmm, she could model all the sexy garments for him. Bloody tarnation, his trousers were getting very tight with the visuals.

He finished packing; wrote to Charlie and his parents. He had his wand ready to verify his magical signature, sealed the scrolls, went to the Floo, and hoped for the best. He touched the coin; it was very warm and reassuring. He was now sure to be right. He would have a medallion made for her, another great idea, aha.

Oh Bill, I miss you-

She couldn't sleep; her skin felt hot, the need for something was overwhelming. It felt as if she needed to be touched, yes that way, as if she needed to... Darn she was uncomfortable. Her period was gone, was she already pregnant? No, it had stopped at the Burrows, or had it?

Earlier, when she showered, she could smell Bill on her skin, making her want him; she was very wet and warm in a second, wanting him inside her, and little tremors ran through her. It was unreal.

The images of Bill moving against her were making her skin hot to the touch. Had his bite infected her?

Frankly she did not care; she wanted him beside her, to feel his hard body, and his fingers tracing her curves, leaving a trail of desire wherever they touched. She bit her lips in frustration.

It was as if she had not had enough from him; tears started running down from her eyes. And now they were leaving tomorrow. Who knows how long they would be gone; she wasn't at all sure that she could actually do this. She dried her tears, crying would not change anything; he had asked her to stay, and instead she'd run away just like a little girl.

He must be worried sick thinking about her, and this thought made her regret her impulsive actions. She dressed and went to Harry's room.

He was awake and reading a book. She squinted and read 'Lycanthropy, Fact and Myth' by C.L. Silverback, 'A household guide for families of new werewolves, from mating to preferred diets, to coping with lunar phases.' The cover displayed a cheesy moving picture of a man turning into a werewolf. The moon was full and actually glowed. The happy family was looking at him with adoration; then the wife and children were waving goodbye, as he ran into the woods, howling.

She rolled her eyes and giggled. Harry smirked, raised his eyebrows and threw his hands up. It was sweet; he was trying to understand better in order to give her his support.

He knew of her need for answers and sighed loud enough to be heard from Ron's room, he was afraid to hear her concerns. He was aware that he had done wrong, hence they needed to talk.

"Hermione, what's up?"

"Bill, what did he said?" She stretched next to him, and laid her head in his chest as she often did. He held her while massaging her stressed neck; which was a common ailment, after reading too long without breaks. They knew each other quite well.

Harry sighed again and closed his eyes in defeat.

"He is torn, quite upset, and he wants to find you." Harry's heart broke a little, it was his fault. He had been chasing after every witch that liked him, but it was too late for regret.

"Did he say so? And did he talk about Fleur?" Her face was pale. She stood up, her heart was beating furiously as her mouth went dry.

"No, he wants you, and yes, he said so. Go to bed you need to sleep. And Mimi, if you need some days with him, we will wait." She would never know how much it had cost him to say that. He was growing up, pain helped the process along. Today, when she trusted him enough to lie right by him, for the first time, he wished he had kissed her all those times he could have. What was he thinking before, what?

His eyes were sad, and much older that they should have been. She came to the edge of the bed, took the book away from his hands and gave him a real big hug. Harry, her first love, and her forever friend, her family, her brother, her platonic lover, and yes, she would still give her life for his. Her hug wanted to convey that and more, and was sure that he understood.

"You are the best family one can have. I will give my life for yours any day, any time, my valiant best friend, my comrade; I will always carry you in my heart." She kissed his lips lightly, more like a feathery touch and went to bed, leaving the door ajar.

She was drifting in and out of sleep, but before she closed her eyes, "Bill, I am coming back tomorrow. If we are bonded, let's do it properly. I cannot survive being away from you. I am not longer able to."

Morning time. Harry stands up to Ron.

The sun was coming in; and she could hear Ron and Harry arguing.

Her right eye opened, she was too tired and wanted to sleep a little longer. She snuggled against his warm body, hmm, what a fine dream. So perfect to feel his, covered with light hair, muscled leg draped over her leg.

He held her tighter and snuggled closer. What a perfect dream, she could even feel his erection nestled between her bum cheeks. She smiled and drifted back to sleep, putting her hand over the large hand covering her breast. What a great dream, the ones where you're still tethered to. while you are barely awake. She needed to tell him her thoughts.

"It's too soon to tell you, but I am happy, you need to –maybe, I lov—,"and all faded to black.

Outside of the room, around 7:30 A.M.

"Let me wake her up," Ron was intentionally loud enough.

"You will not do such thing, and damn it, lower your voice, she is tired and sleeping."

"Why is her door warded and locked?" Ron asked irritated, he knew Harry, yup, he was something from him. He wasn't dumb, and he knew Harry wanted the witch for himself! Of course, everyone wanted what was his.

"For her protection, let's go to the Burrow." Harry was loosing his patience.

"I am not leaving without her. And why aren't we leaving on the Horcrux's hunt as planned? Are you up to something?"

"Listen, Ron, you either come with me by your own little self, or I am going to be forced to bring you against your wishes. And you know my magic is stronger. What will it be?"

Let's try

He had arrived a couple hours before dawn. His Hermione, he'd admired her for over an hour, after Harry accompanied him to the room and opened the door with his magic signature. He briefly told him about the Ministry announcement, and apologized for being closed minded earlier today, and wished him the best of luck.

Bill wasn't insensitive, and he was aware he had crushed a few young male hearts, earlier that day. Perhaps, he was a teensy bitsy sorry, but not much; how could he be? In reality, he was elated to have won such a prize.

Hermione was a lifetime of promises; she wouldn't be ashamed of scars, and would always see the man he was inside. She was that rare object you admire from afar, knowing that it will never be yours, because you are not worthy. Yet, something had decided he was, and he had nearly thrown the gift away.

Fleur was exquisite; furthermore, her allure was unworldly, and he was drawn to her, but it was by no means comparable to this. He had liked Fleur and had felt a kind of love for her. She had a beautiful body, porcelain skin, good complexion, large breasts, and a fairly flat bum, sigh; nobody was perfect. She was a Veela and not against using her charms. She was also smart, but never like Hermione, nobody was like her in the brain department, or even in the caring and loyalty department.

He moved the deck away from her body and held his breath. Hermione lay on her stomach; her legs nearly formed a triangle; and she was perfect to his eyes. He breathed deeply, and his eyes closed and reveled in the scent. Immediately, his body clenched with desire and wanted to wake her up; he wanted to be deep inside of her, but he would wait. Lobo needed to stay put and behave.

It was difficult seeing her face, her shinny curls were giving her cover and hid the bites he had inflicted upon her earlier. He smiled, he would not mind to check his handy work, the mark of Lobo, the one that said MINE, in ancient writing, clever of him.

She was very lean, without being skinny. She was lying so still, she could have been a Muggle painting. Each curve was drawn with precision and with perfect proportions. He observed her back and her torso, the curve of her legs, and the darkness right in the middle, below her bum. He avoided breathing too deep, he would wake up Lobo for sure, her aroma was heady, making his mouth water, and he wanted to taste her. A small moan escaped his lips, and he had to count to ten to relax, hoping to quiet his erection pulsing with want, damn.

He could see himself with a brush or a quill drawing her. First, he would sketch the delicate head covered with the riot of silky curls. He lifted one of them gently with his index finger, and leaned his face closer to it to rub it against his cheek. It was soft and smelling of wild herbs and honey. It was his mother's potion for curly hair, the same she brewed for Percy and Charlie, and he smiled. He put a finger just above her, to trace her contours. He imagined painting her arm, strong, yet delicate. She had freckles along her arm, he chuckled.

Right under the arm he could see the form of her breast, he had tasted it earlier. Barely peeking, was one of the small nearly rose-colored nipples, hard and soft to his tongue, a small rose-hip, to lick and to feel its texture along his tongue. He could imagine the front of her body, a perfect combination of valleys and planes, to be painted with the tip of his tongue, starting at her forehead and traveling slowly. Of course, making stops after the arduous climb of the curvy hill, and rest at the top, to taste the delicious fruit.

His hips were thrusting forward. Stop, it Bill. He had to admonish himself again. He had difficulties staying focused. He smiled again. He went back to his original trajectory, but the fatigue of the long day, made his eyes rather heavy.

He followed the contours of her arm, and went across her wrist, so small, and next moved to her fingers. Small and soft, touching his stiff erection; he imagined the small hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it up and down. The thought made his breath hitch, and not thinking, he brought his other hand to stroke his throbbing prick. He caught himself and stopped. No, he didn't want to fly solo, and he would wait for her.

He wanted to continue his exploration, slowly went up her arm, imagining her arms wrapped around his neck, while he lifted her up to sit her on his co—, Bill stop it. He admonished himself, and regretfully, decided that this was not the time for this type of activity.

But before he covered her, he decided to trace the gentle curve of her back. He would behave. He knew how to control himself after all. "Yeah sure," he told himself.

He thought of a fat drop of water rolling down her back, he would follow the path with his tongue; the drop would first roll down hill, a fairly smooth path, a little dip here and there, until it arrived at her waist. The drop would travel hugging the contours, and his tongue would follow tasting the delicious witch, making her squirm with twirls of his tongue.

Damn, he was very hard, just a stroke here and there. He let out a big sigh. No, he didn't want this, he wanted to wait. Just a little more and to sleep, he stretched his body next to hers, reclined in one elbow while he continued down the path.

Where was him? Ah, yes, and the drop was riding a very clear dip, and then it was a bit up hill. The curve of her bum, each a half of a peach, with the dip dividing the halves. Damn, if one could stick his teeth and take a bite of the delicious, ripe fruit, and bring his tongue even lower, to dip in the honey just further ahead.

His eyes were heavy when he moved his body next to hers, lifted her arm and laid his hand on her perfect sized breast, so soft and so warm, her nipple was soft, hmm, then—his eyes were very tired, "love…"

Inside the Room, around lunch time-

It must be close to noon judging by the sun, thought Hermione. Ah, she still must be dreaming. Wait, her heart skipped a beat.

His fingers were tracing her hip, down her thigh. Her breath hitched; her back arched a bit; and she bit her lip. His lips were nuzzling right over the scabbed-over bite and bringing tremors all the way down her spine. He moved even closer, she pushed her bum closer to him and smiled, this was no dream, but she did not want to open her mouth and break the spell.

He kissed her shoulders, and his hand came back to her thigh, higher, and one finger gently opened the moist folds. And she heard a gasp, but, she bit her bottom lip, hard, not wanting him to know she was awake.

He turned her around, ready to be kicked out, no matter, he would beg. The last hours had taught him that he didn't want to waste this unexpected gift away.

His breathing was labored; he just wanted to make love to her and would show her with his body what he couldn't express with his lips. His body shuddered with need, and the intensity of his desire.

"Princess, oh my witch," he lay next to her, face to face. She thought he looked beautiful, so full of regret, of lust, of caring. She did not see any scars; they no longer looked so deep and angry. She, Miss chatty, didn't want to say anything… If words were spoken, she was sure to say something wrong.

He kissed her eyelids and her forehead; his lips and tongue took time to know her face. He wanted to be slow, like he had imagined this dawn, but the fear of losing her took a hold of him.

Lobo was taking over; he had nearly lost his mate. Sniff, sniff, hmm. Our mate was asleep in a house with two other males during our mating time. Harry's scent is all over her, bloody disgusting.

Bill heard him and had to smile, but he was getting equally jealous.

Hermione watched his tender, blue eyes turn feral and changing to gold. His features were, also, rapidly morphing, and his hair gaining in volume as he sniffed her neck.

Achoo, he sneezed in disgust. Instead of being angry, she laughed softly. She had dogs before and was very familiar with displeased sneezes, and was unable to stop laughing at seeing Bill sniffing and backing out, time and time again, it was too precious.

Her laughter made Lobo settle down. Bill wasn't yet gone and wanted to stay in control. Albeit Lobo's retreat, both, human and wolf, were equally consumed with need.

"I need to feel that you are mine, we have the day to love." He offered as an explanation. Fuck, Harry's scent was even on her lips, and it made him angry, thus tenderness morphed into a fierce desire to posses her.

And with that his lips closed over hers, rougher than his initial intention. This really was not a dream, this was reality. It was her Bill.