A/N: Hello and Happy Holidays to you all. I hope you're enjoying them, however you choose to spend them. I'd like to shoutout a quick thank you to all of your for taking the time to read and review this. It's so sweet of you. I hope you like this chapter as much as I liked writing it. Much love! xx-Kitten.


Firewhiskey Nights

By Kittenshift17


Chapter 6


"Can I ask you something?" Harry asked, eyeing her curiously as they ate dinner together later that same afternoon.

"Of course you can, Harry," Hermione laughed, sipping her red wine and enjoying her amatriciana immensely, "You know that. I have no secret from you."

"None? Really?" Harry raised one eyebrow, "Because that lovebite on your neck makes me think you've got a secret lover that you've not told me about."

Hermione blanched, clapping her hands to her throat.

"Shit!" she cursed, "I completely forgot about the bastard giving me a love-bite. Is it really obvious?"

"Only in that dress," he nodded at the way her dress was completely sheer around her neckline and over her shoulder, utterly see-through to the cups holding her boobs in, "Something you'd like to share?"

Hermione subtly used her wand to conceal the lovebite before she answered. She took a sip of her wine and looked around the busy Italian restaurant they'd come to, making sure no one would be listening.

"I've been having sex," Hermione admitted to Harry.

"I figured that much out for myself," Harry smirked at her, "Who with?"

"I… You're going to be upset with me about it," Hermione warned him, sighing.

"That bad? It's not Malfoy, is it?" Harry raised one eyebrow.

Hermione recoiled at the very idea.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Harry laughed at her reaction, "Well, if it's not him, I guarantee I won't be too put out with you. Besides, I told you about it when I was nailing Parkinson after Ginny and I broke up. How much worse could it be?"

Hermione nibbled her bottom lip worriedly.

"Well, it all started on Halloween," Hermione began, wanting to give Harry the context so he'd better understand, "Oh, who am I kidding? It started in our first year at Hogwarts. He was a seventh year, at the time, and I walked in on him getting a blowjob in the library. Naturally, I reported it. He hounded me all year after that. Anyway, I didn't see him again until the war… He um… he was a Death Eater."

Harry's brow furrow a bit.

"One of the ones we paroled to further their bloodline?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Hermione sigh, "Don't be upset with me. I… I ran into him at Halloween when I was plastered. He was in my hotel room at the Leaky Cauldron, apparently having been deposited there after getting rip-roaring drunk and passing out."

"Wait… Hermione, tell me it's not Dolohov?" Harry asked, "You don't want to encourage him. You know the types of things he did to Ron while you two were together."

"It's not Dolohov," Hermione assured him, "Dolohov's a bit too old for me, I think. And he's completely barmy as well. Honestly, the things he does… He barged into my office today, did I tell you? Ron was there and he insulted me and Dolohov gave him another cursed object before shoving him out of my office."

"Tell me who your shagging before you tell me what charges I'm pressing against Dolohov, please," Harry sighed, pulling his glasses off his nose and rubbing his eyes as though he had to reach for patience.

"Right. Yes, that's where I was… Well, I got back to my room to find a freshly showered wizard just walking out of my bathroom. I was in my cat-suit costume, and pissed as well. He… he didn't recognise me at first, but when he did he was pretty interested in intimidating me like he used to do to me in first year."

"Who?" Harry demanded.

"Um… Thorfinn Rowle," Hermione admitted.

"That huge blonde Death Eater with the long hair?" Harry frowned, "I didn't think he'd be your type."

"Neither did I, to be honest. I mean, Viktor was burly, to an extent, but still rather skinny and fine-boned to be a Seeker. And Ron, well, you know what he's like. Tall, broad shoulders but lanky rather than a hulking Viking of a wizard."

"And the hair?" Harry asked, looking amused.

"The hair is actually my favourite part," Hermione grinned, "Well…. Second favourite."

Harry choked on his wine when she winked at him, his eyes going wide at her playfulness.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Harry choked out, coughing and spluttering.

"Sorry. Are you alright?" Hermione laughed, offering him his napkin.

"So you and that bloody bastard had a history even before the Battle at the Astronomy Tower or before they came after us when we fled Bill's wedding?" Harry confirmed.

"Yes. One overlapping year at school," Hermione nodded, "Anyway, he was hitting on me and I was drunk and he was naked and then I was naked… He's a really good shag. Not that I had much to compare him to, you know, but he's particularly virile for a man in his thirties."

"You've been shagging him the past two weeks?" Harry confirmed.

"Oh, no," Hermione shook her head. "No, I mean I shagged him multiple times on Halloween. And Ginny and Ron walked in on the two of us the morning after, before he apparated us away when Ron went ballistic and we realised Dolohov had snuck into the room between the last go and him waking me up with his tongue between my legs. And I shagged him twice more at his place the same morning before I left. It's actually why I missed drinks last week. I didn't want Ron and Ginny interrogating me about it all in front of the reporters at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Blimey, Hermione," Harry shook his head.

"But I didn't see Rowle again after that, not until today. Like I said, Ron barged into my office and he called me a sloppy whore when I refused to tell him who Rowle is and why Dolohov was watching him go down on me. Anyway, Dolohov turned up in my office too and decided that was the moment he simply had to investigate my scar. He cursed Ron and partially stripped me. Then he apparated me to his flat – where he lives with Thorfinn."

"And you shagged Rowle? Just like that?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Well, it's a bit more complicated. You know I've told you that Dolohov's curse made me all but infertile? Well, Dolohov wanted to investigate the scars and apparently had to see what would happen if he touched it while I was orgasming," Hermione explained, "Yes, that's the face I made too, even though I know he's seen me naked before. Since I refused to let him bring me off, Rowle seduced me into letting him do it and Dolohov snuck in. The scar is actually a part of Dolohov's magic – the part he put into the curse that didn't do what it should – latched onto mine. That's why it dances when I'm distracted. It's not my magic, but his. It has a very interesting effect when he touches it."

"Do you want me to throw him back in prison for molesting you and violating your privacy?" Harry asked seriously.

"No," Hermione shook her head, "He's crazy, but he has no intention of hurting me, Harry. He has a theory that the magic – his magic – inside my scar is what's been preventing me from falling pregnant. Not because it's damaged my body, but because he thinks his magic is protecting me from anything he would deem harmful. Rowle mentioned Dolohov's grown very protective of me since cursing me. I imagine it's a side effect of his magic being attached to mine. A sense of self-preservation carried over to me as a result of the magical link."

"Does that mean… he could get you pregnant?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Dolohov?" Hermione asked, startled, "Or Rowle?"

"Dolohov."

"Oh… I don't know. I didn't ask him. He's investigating it. I was too busy having sex…" Hermione laughed, "Rowle thinks that Dolohov's magic protects me from anything 'harmful' that he wouldn't approve of seeing happen to me. Like, he loathes Ron and knew Ron was cheating on me, so he thinks his magic 'protected' me from being tied to Ron through children. Rowle thinks that he could knock me up. I, on the other hand, have read my medical test results and doubt their theories."

"Are you being careful, just in case?" Harry asked, "If you can get pregnant, do you really want to do so with Rowle?"

"I'm not pregnant after Halloween," Hermione shrugged, "But honestly, I'm at the point where I don't think I'd object to having anyone's child, if it meant I could have one. I know I didn't want them for a few more years yet, but… well, if there is a chance I can have one, I feel like I should take it, no matter when it happens or who it happens with."

"Nothing like being told you can't have something to make you want it, eh?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Essentially," Hermione sighed, "Having children was always a far-off goal for me until I had those tests done and they told me I might not ever conceive."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"I used to think the same thing until Andie got sick," Harry sighed, "I was content to be the cool godfather who played with Teddy and watched out for him when I could – like Sirius did for me. But now…"

He trailed off, shaking his head. Andromeda had contracted Dragon Pox sixth months ago and while she was still very much young enough to fight the virus – and had been making leaps and bounds in regard to her recovery – but she had to be kept in confinement at St Mungo's to avoid an epidemic. She also wasn't' allowed to see Teddy, which meant that he'd been living with Harry – who'd taken time off work to raise the small boy when Molly couldn't take him through the day. He'd been doing a fabulous job with Teddy too, and Hermione recognised all the signs of his increasing yearning to be a father, in addition to being godfather. At this point, Harry practically counted Teddy as belonging to him anyway, but Hermione understood the yearning to be a mother herself of a tiny human that was half her.

"Now you want one of your own," Hermione nodded her head in understanding, "I know. Every time I see that boy, it gets harder to give him back."

"I don't think I can give Teddy back anymore, Hermione," Harry admitted softly," Andie is going to pull through. I know she will… But I feel like, when she does, I'm going to have to get a bigger place so she can move in with me because I can't give him up."

Hermione smiled at her best friend.

"I'm sure she won't mind, Harry," Hermione soothed him, reaching across the table to smooth the deep frown line that had been beginning to etch between his eyebrows, "She'll be weakened magically and physically for a long time as a result of the Dragon Pox. Having someone around who can keep up with Teddy without panting and gasping for breath will be good. And I think she gets lonely a lot, since she lost Ted and Dora."

"I think so too," Harry nodded, "I just… He's one more thing to consider, you know? In regard to… well, I don't want him to be in his teens and heading off to Hogwarts before I have a few of my own."

"Which you don't want to do until you're married," Hermione grinned at him, "Which might be an issue to resolve, since you're currently single."

"Well… yeah," Harry sighed, frowning again, "I just… I want someone who doesn't care about my ridiculous fame and who doesn't just want my money, you know? And that sounds pretentious to say. I just…"

"You want Ginny," Hermione concluded.

"I thought that," Harry shook his head with a sigh, "But I really don't think I do. I've been thinking about it a lot recently and there was a reason we broke up in the first place. She's great for a laugh, and her love of Quidditch is admirable; just want… more."

"More?" Hermione arched one eyebrow at him.

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"More, you know? Someone I can grumble at and whine to without fearing she'll think it's her fault or that she's done something to displease me. Someone who won't be insanely jealous whenever the papers publish trash about me and some other witch I've never met," Harry explained, "Someone I can talk to for hours on end if I want, but someone who won't mind sitting in companionable silence with me."

Hermione smiled at him, knowing that feeling all too well.

"It's a pity that you and I have no romantic chemistry," Harry went on, eyeing her speculatively, "Or you better bet your arse I'd be after you, Hermione."

Hermione burst out laughing at his words, "Because that worked out so well the first time?"

Harry laughed along with her.

"I maintain that the alcohol made it weird," Harry informed her, sipping his wine and grinning cheekily.

"It wasn't the whiskey," Hermione shook her head, "The whiskey landed us in bed together in the first place."

"Thus, making it awkward when I woke up naked next to you," Harry smirked at her, "If we'd been sober to make that decision, it'd have been fine."

"Except that when we were sober we both giggled like school-girls before you even put your hand up my shirt," Hermione rolled her eyes, rather fondly recalling the night she'd spent with Harry.

No one else knew about it, of course. They'd both been recently single when it had happened, and Hermione knew she hadn't actually shagged Harry – there's been no after-sex soreness and no sticky mess to deal with when she'd woken to find him nakedly spooning her. She was ninety-five percent sure that fellatio had taken place on both parts, but had no real memory of ending up in bed with him to begin with.

"Well it's just… you're so…"

"If you say frigid, I'll smack you," Hermione warned him.

"Oh, no," Harry smirked, "Seeing the size of the lovebite on you neck, and that mark at the curve of your shoulder there that looks suspiciously like a bite-mark, I think anyone using the word frigid in relation to you just didn't know what he was bloody doing."

Hermione smirked at the way Harry casually insulted Ron for his lack of finesse in the bedroom and lack of tact everywhere else.

"Having since expanded my realm of carnal knowledge, I can guarantee he had no idea what he was doing. And that it was really awkward between us, actually," Hermione frowned a little, "He… things with Ron always felt kind of forced. Not as though he made me do anything I wasn't comfortable with, but more like we had to work at it to feel attracted enough to one another to shag at all."

"I felt like that with Ginny after the thrill of sex for the sake of sex wore off," Harr nodded in understanding, "But it does bring us back to my original point. You're not interested in trying for kids with me instead of some bloody Death Eater?"

Hermione glanced up at him, realising as he brought it up again that Harry was actually serious.

"I… are you attracted to me, Harry?" Hermione asked, tipping her head to one side to regard him curiously.

"I think you're beautiful," Harry replied.

"But you don't want to slam me up against that wall and ravish me, do you?" Hermione nodded to the nearby wall.

"I… not really," Harry admitted, "But I'm not really a 'slam women into things' kind of bloke, Hermione. I'm more of a 'surprise them in the shower' kind of guy."

He winked at her. Actually winked. Hermione stared at him for a long minute it silence, her lips twitching before they both burst out laughing.

"Ok, so the idea of surprising you in the shower makes me fear for my loins," Harry admitted, "But I could get into it if we stopped giggling like children every time we were naked or being inappropriate."

"You don't even want anything romantic with me," Hermione rolled her eyes, "You just adore me because I'm the best friend you could ever have."

"Well, how is anyone else supposed to top that?" Harry countered, "What other witch is ever going to understand that sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and have to check the wards and the entire house to make sure we're safe before coming back to bed and spooning."

"Just admit that you miss spooning me every night, Harry," Hermione laughed at his words.

"I do, actually," Harry admitted, smiling softly, "I got so used to it on the run with you, waking up with a face full of those wild curls, that I used to wake up with Ginny sometimes and I'd panic for a minute thinking I'd somehow been tired enough after watch the crawl in with Ron instead."

Hermione snorted her wine at his words, dissolving into raucous laughter that Harry joined in with.

"That would've been disconcerting," Hermione laughed.

"It was. She used to get funny when I'd wake her up by jerking back really fast and trying to shove her across the bed. Should've seen her face when she insisted on satin sheets and wore a silk nightgown to bed. She skidded right off the edge and onto the floor," Harry admitted, his cheeks turning red at the admission.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione giggled, pressing her napkin to her lips to keep from spitting her wine everywhere in her amusement.

"Needless to say, the next witch I date better have hair like yours or I might injure her by accident," Harry replied dryly.

"So you like my hair, and you like how comfortable we are with one another because we've been closer than siblings since we were eleven," Hermione pointed out, "But you still don't want to crawl into bed with me."

Harry tipped his head sideway, his green eyes turning assessing as he raked them over her from head to foot. Hermione blinked in surprise at the way he did so, never having been checked out by Harry before and finding it a little disconcerting.

"I do want to, actually," he admitted, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "I know we'd laugh ourselves stupid and likely never manage to get all of our clothes off without blushing like idiots. But I'd give it a go."

"Don't you want to better than giving it a go?" Hermione asked, "Don't you want explosive, must shag again half an hour after the first round because you're insatiable at the sight of her types of sex?"

"Well, yeah," Harry admitted, "But I had that with Ginny. It was everything else that didn't work. If I could meld your personality to Ginny's libido, we'd be set."

"With my hair, of course," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, obviously," Harry admitted, reaching over to tug one of her curls affectionately, "I like feeling like the one in the relationship with the least crazy hair."

"I'll smack you, Harry Potter," Hermione warned, grinning at him.

"You wouldn't dare," he retorted, sticking his tongue out at her.

"Oh, I would," Hermione told him swatting his arm to prove it.

"Such lawlessness, Hermione," Harry shook his head, pretending to be disappointed with her, "Two rolls in the sack with a Death Eater and here you are, assaulting the Head Auror of the MLE.

"I'll assault you again if you don't share your food," Hermione informed him, giggling.

"Menace," Harry accused, offering her his forkful of linguini.

"You love me," Hermione told him, eating the food and smiling at him, "I'll tell you what?"

"Hmmm?" Harry asked, feeding himself some of his pasta before looking up at her.

"If neither of us are dating, married, pregnant or parents by the time you're thirty, we'll get hitched and you can sow wild oats in some wretched witch you hate who will birth the kid and we'll raise it," Hermione grinned at him.

"You don't think I could knock you up?" Harry asked, looking affronted.

"I think we'd die of laughter trying," Hermione shrugged.

"Probably," Harry sighed, "I do love you, you know."

"You're just not in love with me?" she asked.

"No, it's not that. I'm in love with you. I have been since I was eleven and you told me I was a great wizard just for being brave and loyal, rather than for being some Chosen One or Boy Who Lived or anything else," Harry shrugged at her, "You brilliant and funny and beautiful and I swear that if we had a romantic spark, I'd have married you before you ever even thought about dating Ron. I'm in love with you, and I know you're in love with me too. We're just not as super-charged as we should be. It's like your soulmate, just not in a wild-sex, rock-your-world-off-its-axis kind of way."

Hermione felt tears prickle her eyes at his words.

"You realise now that I'm going to spend the rest of the night hugging you, yeah?" Hermione asked him.

"I liked hugging you," Harry shrugged his shoulders, "You smell good and you fit just right in my arms."

"Too bad we don't want to go at it like bunnies, eh?" Hermione giggled.

"It's a real shame," Harry nodded, pretending to be devastated, "What do you think the chances are of me finding a witch who will shag me stupid and won't mind that I love you more than I love her?"

Hermione shook her head at him.

"I'm sure there's a witch out there like that. You just have to find her. Which you won't do if you spend all night drinking wine and eating pasta while lamenting our lack of sexual tension," Hermione told him, "So eat up and we'll head to the pub."

"I hardly think I'm going to find a decent witch at the pub, Hermione."

"You never know. I found a pretty decent wizard at the pub."

"Please, Hermione decent?" Harry rolled his eyes, "Rowle's criminal record is longer than your arm. If he's decent, then Ron's a bloody saint."

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

"What the fuck do you mean the entire Alley's closed?" Rabastan Lestrange demanded of the Ministry Officials raiding the entire Alley, including every pub they would normally be drunk in by now.

Thorfinn Rowle sighed, tipping his head back and thinking he shouldn't just stayed in bed and daydreamed about fucking Granger all over again.

"I mean that by order of the Ministry, every Knockturn Alley business-house is currently being search by the MLE, the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts boys and the DRCMC chaps," Arthur Weasley informed an angry Bass.

"On what grounds, Weasley?" Lucius Malfoy drawled hostilely.

"On the grounds of harbouring fugitives, abusing artefacts and unlicensed creature hybridisation, Malfoy," Weasley retorted, handing over a copy of the official notices that had obviously been given, along with search warrants, to every business owner in the Alley.

"Whatever for?" Rodolphus wanted to know, "I hardly think Thornseed's hiding dragons under those rickety bar-tables, mate."

Weasley sighed, looking like he really didn't want to be there.

"Look, I don't make the rules," Arthur said, "I just lead the Raiding Team. These orders came from further up. If you have a problem with them, feel free to lodge a complaint to the Ministry for the inconvenience of avoiding these establishments for the evening. Though if none of you are proprietors of these properties, you will likely be ignored when you lodge you complaints."

"Where the hell are we supposed to get a pint, Weasley?" Rockwood demanded, looking annoyed.

"Diagon Alley is still open," Weasley offered, "The Leaky Cauldron and the Smoking Quill would surely enjoy your business, gentleman."

"Not bloody likely," Toshka muttered, pulling out his hip flask and drinking from it deeply.

"This is a fucking joke," Bass growled.

"We could give it a go," Rodolphus suggested, "None of us have been to the Leaky in a long while. That little blonde thing always serves me whenever I go there. And with this place shut down, they'd be fools to turn us all away."

"With these place shut down, every cunt and his crup will be at the Leaky," Bass argued with his brother, heedless of the three year old boy propped on Rodolphus's hip as he used such foul language.

"Well, it's try our luck there, or congregate at Malfoy's place," Rodolphus retorted.

Everyone, including Malfoy Senior and Junior, shrugged at the idea. Malfoy Manor might be a fine place, but too much darkness had taken place in that house for their sakes.

"Come on," Thorfinn sighed, nudging Toshka, "Try the Leaky."

The whole lot of them were scowling and bitching the entire way up Diagon Alley and into the Leaky Cauldron. Thorfinn gritted his teeth when most of the patrons fell silent and glared in their direction as they filed in.

"Hannah," Theo Nott greeted the little blonde barmaid who was willing to serve them.

"Hi, Theo," Hannah smiled bright – had to be a bloody Hufflepuff, Thorfinn snorted, "What can I get you?"

"You can't serve them, Hannah," some bastard on the drinking side of the bar protested, "We don't want the likes of these bastards drinking here. Go back to Knockturn Alley!"

"Knockturn Alley's been closed for the night, MLE orders," Hannah snapped in retorted, "And you Jimmy Peakes will mind that tongue in your head or so help me, I'll cut you off and send you home to your wife before you're good a drunk enough to sleep through your new daughter's cries."

Peakes bared his teeth but looked away, obviously knowing when to pick his battles.

Everyone else in the bar looked no less pleased by their presence, but they grumbled to each other and went back to their drinking. Thorfinn ignored the black glares from the cunts and ordered himself a whiskey before meandering along with the other over to a booth that would fit them all. Rabastan only had to raise his eyebrows at the two young witches occupying it before the scurried away, whispering to one another.

Thorfinn rolled his eyes when one of them pointed in his direction. Just what they bloody needed, slags who wanted a little taste of darkness for the night. He'd leave the bullshit to Bass tonight. He was in no mood for getting laid when he could instead marinated in the feel and scent of Granger still on his skin.

"You fucking reek, you know?" Bass informed him, slotting into the booth before him and taking his nephew from Rodolphus's lap for a bit while he drank his whiskey.

"You know you want a taste," Thorfinn smirked in return.

"You've already fucked someone before getting here?" Bass confirmed, looking amused.

"Spent most of the afternoon fucking, actually," Thorfinn smirked over the rim of his glass.

"Anyone I know?" Bass grinned wickedly.

"Oh, you'd know of her," Thorfinn nodded, "But I'm not sharing, so keep your cock in your trousers and away from my witch."

"Oh, she's your witch, now?" Toshka smirked.

"She is today," Thorfinn shrugged.

Antonin rolled his eyes and drank his drink. Bass immediately turned his attention to grilling Toshka to tell him who it was. Thorfinn, on the other hand, turned his attention to hexing the cunt who tried to spit in their direction when passing their table. He was sneaky about it, but one minute the bastard was spitting at them, the next he was falling face first into a stool and tripping over his own shoelaces before subsequently landing in his own spittle.

"Fucking cunts," young Malfoy growled, leering at them all with displeasure when many of the patrons in the place continued to stare at them hatefully.

"Ignore them, mate," Theo rolled his eyes as he slid into the booth beside the kid, "Let's just have a bloody drink."