Author's Note: Thanks again for everyone's support. You are the best!

Hope you enjoy!


Chapter 3

The morning went by in a blur. As a Junior Aide for the Director of International Regulation, she was constantly pulled into meetings and responsible for keeping detailed notes. The amount of frizz in her hair usually indicated the day's stress level, and today was no exception.

Despite the desire to keep working, she was always on time for lunch, preferring to edge ahead of the lunch crowd that came around 12:30pm.

She whisked through the lunch line, opting for a toasted panini with an apple and an oversized chocolate chip cookie.

"Hermione!" Harry called a few spots behind her.

"Hi Harry," she waved back.

He was already getting interrupted by handshakes and words of appreciation. Although the Ministry had made an announcement about leaving them alone, there wasn't a day that went by where one of them would receive gratitude and hugs for their sacrifice during the Battle.

After paying, then wading through the sea of tables, they found an alcove that was relatively unpopulated and sat down across from one another.

Hermione let out a breath of air, finally having a moment to focus on something other than work.

"I see you got the extra-large chocolate chunk. Busy day?" Harry asked, pointing his fork at her cookie before stabbing it into his salad.

"What day isn't?" she sighed.

Before they had a chance to start a conversation, Ron barged over and landed with a heavy slump in the chair next to Harry, adjacent to Hermione.

The wind was knocked out of her. There across from her was Ron, not in his everyday attire but instead in a new button-down striped shirt, his hair neatly combed over. Of course, she enjoyed his normal shaggy, devil-may-care look, but somehow this version brought up an underlying hum of adoration deep inside her. Her mind slid back to Ron in his tight pirate trousers.

"So, I did it," Ron said, leaning forward and wringing his fingers together. "I finally submitted my recommendations to Director Liske."

"Congrats, mate. Only took you three months," Harry jabbed.

"Ron, that's wonderful!" Hermione congratulated, sending Harry a glare to knock it off. She couldn't help but reach for his hand and give it a supportive squeeze.

"Thanks, Mione," he responded, catching her eye. After a moment, he jerked his hand away from her and chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hermione tried not to take it personally, but she couldn't help but feel the sting of his rejection yet again.

It's your fault. She badgered herself. You knew this would happen when you drank from that vial. You knew it would send you right back to the lonely hearts club.

Hermione quickly returned to her panini, spending her time chewing and offering random nods of agreement as Harry questioned Ron on one of their latest missions.

"Mum wants to invite everyone over next weekend. Does that work for you two?" Ron asked after the previous conversation had subsided.

Harry nodded, attempting to answer with his mouth full, "Ginny already mentioned it. We'll be there."

Hermione continued chewing her food. It was becoming harder and harder to avoid the family that she cared for so much. Ever since Ron distanced himself from her, she felt that she didn't belong, despite Ginny's protests and the family's wonderful treatment of her.

"I've got more work, but please send my regards," she replied, looking down at her plate.

"You've always got more work," Ron gruffed. She could feel his eyes bearing into her, but she refused to look up and get caught in them this time.

Hermione put her panini down and leaned forward. "It's that prat, Milton Grimsby," Hermione tried to explain in a hushed tone. Although it was not the main reason she passed up the invitation, it was the reason she was working overtime lately.

"Did you just call one of your colleagues...a prat?" Harry guffawed, acting as if she'd sprouted a second head.

Hermione gave him a look, lowering her voice further and looking around, "Yes, and he's been brown-nosing his way to the director's office for the past month. If I don't keep up, he's going to force me out of the next promotion!"

"Come now, Hermione. Just because you've got some competition…" Harry started, but Hermione gave him a death glare.

"He's a cheat. I just know it," Hermione scowled as she grabbed her glass and took a sip.

"Okay, Captain Granger," Ron muttered under his breath.

Hermione choked and nearly spat out her water. Harry skidded back in his chair, avoiding the potential spray.

"What did you just say?" Hermione managed after the water finally went down her throat. She was sure she had imagined it.

Ron, equally as surprised, gave her an odd look.

"Nothing," he fidgeted. "I...uh...should go get my lunch."

Ron strode over to the now long lunch line while Harry dabbed at errant water droplets on his tray.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, handing him a napkin as she stared at Ron squirming in line.

"What the hell was that about?" he asked, more confused than angry.

"I must have...misheard," she clarified, for Harry's sake and her own.

Hermione glanced over at Ron, who was doing everything in his power to not look in their direction. Hermione bit her lip, realizing that she was now literally bringing her sexual fantasies to work with her.

Without another beat, Hermione began piling her finished items to be discarded in the bin and grabbing her wrapped chocolate chunk cookie to take with her to her office.

"We've got twenty more minutes," Harry pushed, "you can stay a bit longer."

Hermione was already shaking her head. "No, I've got to deal with— "

"-Milton Grimsby." Harry interrupted with disappointment.

Hermione gave him a quick hug to substitute an apology as she took off out of the lunch area, avoiding one last look in Ron's direction.

Hermione didn't want to disappoint Harry. He was doing everything he could to bring the sense of camaraderie from Hogwarts and the Horcrux hunt back, but it felt hopeless. Things had changed for her after the kiss with Ron and again after she went off on her own to Australia and then again when she left for her final year at Hogwarts. She didn't feel like she belonged anymore or that she couldn't get close to Ron, no matter how much she tried.

The day had only soured further after her lunch, with Milton somehow completing all his work and taking over one of her own assignments before she had the chance to protest. She ended up at home with no work and no leftovers, reeling at how the end of her week concluded.

Despite being invited out for drinks with Padma and Pavarti, she opted to stay in and sulk.

Though, even in her unhappy state, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to her bedroom where two more Deeply Dreaming vials were waiting, luring her back to her bedroom to escape just one more time into her dreams and away from her unsatisfying reality.

She ordered takeout and read a chapter of her book before finally relenting. After looking around to no one in particular, she popped open the heart-shaped vial stopper and downed the glimmering solution.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she relaxed as everything slowly faded away….


Hermione's eyes opened to a sight just as unbelievable as the pirate ship. She was in a massive hall, sitting on a throne made of pure gold. Rounded columns raised to the ceiling. Oversized onyx sculptures of cats and Egyptian gods lined the room.

She looked down at her outfit and was surprised to find that she was adorned in necklaces, bracelets, rings with jewels. Her chest was covered in a wide-collared necklace made from gold foil and copper. Her coverings and jewelry included a combination of pearls, turquoise, amethyst and emeralds.

While Hermione had never been one for accessories, she couldn't help but feel incredibly beautiful. Her arms were covered in hieroglyphic designs, as if she was a work of art herself and an artist had crafted her over thousands of years. Her hair still remained wild and in ringlets, but throughout those ringlets were thin lines of gold curled with it.

Her stomach was bare but also had some unique Egyptian art, and her pale linen skirt appeared to be hand-sewn and covered in precious gems.

In front of her was a wide expanse, with the sun streaming in from the far walls.

Her infatuation with the location was interrupted by a group of guards pushing open the sandstone slabs that made up the double doors into her hall.

The guards happened to be male and almost bare themselves, covered only below their muscled midsection by a knee-length skirt with a pleated belt. Almost all had their own hand-crafted sickle, and appeared to be almost least two heads taller than her. If she hadn't known that they were here to protect her, she would have escaped out the back the moment she laid eyes on them.

The group paced up in formation, but as they got closer, she could tell they were surrounding an unidentified figure in the middle.

"Your majesty," the leader of the guards echoed through the halls, bending down on one knee.

The other guards followed suit, shoving the mysterious figure down with them.

Hermione sat for a moment in silence, observing the figure in the center. The prisoner had a button-down linen shirt with what seemed to be a wand holster with no wand. There was a blue bandana wrapped around his neck, and above it was his familiar blazing red hair. The lead guard glanced up, and she gave him a slight nod. He returned to a standing position, the others following suit a moment later.

"Pharoah, we found this scoundrel trying to enter the Library," the guard boomed.

"Why always a scoundrel?" the voice she knew well, called out to the group.

Hermione tried not to smile, remembering her regal role.

"Come forward, prisoner," she called down the flight of steps to the group.

She watched as a guard shoved him up to the front. He stumbled forward but found his balance and looked up at her.

He seemed to stop short, and she couldn't tell if he was looking at her in awe or in defiance. His blue eyes were cloudy, and she couldn't read him.

"What were you doing in my Library?" she questioned, exuding confidence.

His eyes lit up as if this was a joke, and he took a step forward.

"Honestly, Hermione, what would I be doing in a library?"

One of the guards kicked at his knees. "Never insult Pharaoh," the figure warned.

Ron hid his pained expression and gave the guard a dirty look.

"I've heard the Library of Alexandria holds answers to the mysteries of the world," he called out to her. "I wanted to excavate her secrets to see what I might find."

Ron gave her a sultry look and then an innocent smile. Hermione felt her heart pick up and wasn't sure if she was keeping quiet to appear as if she was deliberating or because words weren't coming to her at that moment.

Finally, she leaned forward towards Ron. "For your treason, you must pay," she echoed through the hall. The guards smiled and gave low noises of support. She could tell they wanted him punished.

Hermione and Ron continued to lock eyes, and it almost seemed as if he was looking forward to whatever punishment she was about to dole out. His freckled features appear more intrigued than unnerved by her proclamation.

"Deliver him to my chambers," she ordered. The guards nodded, as if she would be serving the harshest punishment of all. "There we will see how severe your punishment should be," she issued with finality.

Again, the dreamscape itself had helped her keep a straight face and a strong voice as she got up and disappeared from the hall. Her giddiness was bubbling up inside, and she couldn't wait to get Ron in her chambers, alone, and doing her bidding.

Hermione paced down the corridors in silence. Everything echoed, and she smiled at the onyx cat figures that lined the open-air windows and the tapestries of Egyptian hieroglyphics.

Even though Alexandria had been mentioned in conversation, she knew that in this fantasy, she was the protector of the most prized library in history, of the Library of Alexandria, and that made her heart lift even further.

She walked into her room, a beautifully ornate and open space, which seemed to be the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The cool air sweeping through and out the other side, the gentle breeze kissing her shoulders. The sun, which was starting to head down, signifying late afternoon, streamed through the open columns dividing her room to the outside. Her bed was on the far wall, and it seemed to be made entirely up of striking teal pillows.

Hermione decided it made sense to get comfortable and removed her formalwear, opting instead for a light, airy robe. She peered down, and even beneath some of her clothes, she had Egyptian swirls and designs. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was just as made up, with heavy imprinted eyeliner that made her eyes pop and appear as if she was a priceless sculpture in a museum.

On the opposite side of her room, linen coverings cascaded down from the vault-like ceiling, swaying with the wind. She walked over to it, recognizing that it was a divide that led to five steps descending into a large pool of cool water. The water was dark as if connected to the Nile, and she had her own private access. It was so still that it seemed as if it was marble.

"So, I'm your prisoner now?" a voice called from behind her.

Hermione quickly pulled her toe back from the water and craned her neck behind her with a devilish smile.

"Not necessarily," she flirted. "Depends what you have to offer."

Ron kept quiet, and she felt a shiver slide down her spine.

"Well, then," he finally said, almost in a whisper, "how may I be of service, your majesty?" He took a few steps forward, hesitantly.

Hermione contemplated a moment and looked over at the pool of water.

"It has been a long day, and I am growing weary. Show me your skills at...relaxation…" she trailed off. She was still facing the pool of water, and she pulled the robe off over her shoulders. The silk robe slid down and landed silently on the ground. She took a slow step into the water, her entire back side completely bare.

She didn't turn back to Ron, enjoying teasing him. In her dreams, she knew that seeing her slender figure and naked backside would drive him wild. If only Ron in reality felt that same way. Brushing her negative thoughts aside, she stepped into the cool pool.

After disappearing into the inky water, and the tips of her curls now submerged, she waded around, enjoying the silence. There was a quiet shuffling behind her, but she decided she would let Ron take the lead. After a minute she was startled by his voice right behind her.

"I would hate for my Pharoah to be weary."

Her body went rigid as his fingers rolled up against her shoulders. She didn't turn around, knowing they were inches away from one another, naked.

His firm hands pressed into her shoulders kneading the tension out of her body. She couldn't help but let out a long slow moan of appreciation. She wasn't sure if the sensations were so spectacularly sensual and relaxing because of her stress-filled day in reality, or if his hands were made to be amazing in her fantasy. She dipped further into the water, melting into his touch.

He pressed in all the right areas, massaging up her neck and over her shoulders. After a few minutes, he worked his way down her back, sliding his strong hands along her sides and around her front, and then back again.

Sweeping her damp hair over one shoulder, Ron kissed at the base of her hairline, then down her neck and between her shoulder blades.

Hermione was having a hard time concentrating, and her desire to turn and slide onto him then and there was tempting. Unfortunately, she knew that George's intimacy blocker would go into effect if she got too frisky, so she tried her hardest to take her time. Eventually though, as his hands roved her body from behind, she couldn't stop herself, and she turned to face him.

The room was silent, except for the wind blowing in the background. They were so close.

"You are good with your hands," she whispered to him, nervous for some reason.

Ron gave her a dark smile as his hands rounded her front, and he pulled her to him.

They were inches away from one another, and his freckles stood out even more up close. Despite wanting to jump atop of him and have her way, she enjoyed finally being near him again. She just wanted to enjoy this quiet time, solely focused on one another.

"Your majesty," he whispered.

"Just call me Hermione, Ron," she breathed, wanting this to feel more real than it actually was.

"Mione," he smiled. His hands pulled her closer to him, and her chest and his were now pressing on one another. Their breath was intermingling, and she gently pressed her lips to his.

It wasn't rushed this time. Instead, it was slow and achingly sensual. And that's the way she wanted it. She wanted to remember this closeness forever, knowing that this was as close as she would ever get.

Every inch of him felt like Ron and smelled like Ron, and his strong arms warped around her like a warm blanket, pressing them together.

They continued like this for as long as they could and finally broke apart, with a chuckle from Ron.

"What's so funny?" She asked, surprised at his change in mood.

"It's nothing," she breathed, a grin spreading on his face.

Hermione gave him a look to tell her anyway.

"It's just, even in my dreams, you are obsessed with libraries."

He leaned forward to press his lips to her, waving the thought away, but Hermione stopped him.

"But this is my dream," she explained, confused. "Of course, my dream would involve a library...though I'm not quite sure what I was thinking about the pirate one."

Hermione hadn't noticed until it was too late that Ron had gone rigid and slid backwards out of her grasp.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, wading forward through the water towards Ron.

Ron's mouth bobbed open and shut a few times, continuing to drag himself backwards out of her grasp and out of the water.

"I've got to go." He turned and climbed out of the water two steps at a time.

Without any hesitation, he grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around his waist as he pushed open her chamber door and disappeared into the corridor.

Hermione stood in the water, unmoving and completely flabbergasted. Her heart sank as she slowly recognized that not only was she being rejected by Ron in real life, but she was also being rejected by him in her fantasies.

"How pathetic am I?" she moaned as she let herself lean backwards and sink below the surface, trying to forget this entire fantasy ever happened.