Chapter Sixteen

Following perhaps the most enjoyable shower Hermione could remember having in her entire life, the two unlikely flatmates pushed aside the desire to continue their carnal activities to deal with the real problems they had successfully managed to ignore for a few hours. Besides, there wasn't a proper bed to even use thanks to the nighttime intruder ripping their mattresses to shreds. As soon as they were dressed in clean clothes, they worked together to get the flat cleaned and repaired to its former state.

Strengthening the flat's wards was a little more difficult and time-consuming than she initially expected. It wasn't a surprise to learn that Igor knew lots of archaic and rarely used enchantments to protect her home. He was technically of advanced age himself after all despite currently possessing his younger form. A meticulous spellcaster, it took hours for him to complete the improvements he deemed necessary to protect the flat from being invaded by another intruder. She hoped he was correct.

When he finally proclaimed the task done, she felt slightly better and a little more secure. She wasn't sure she would ever fully get over the terrible feeling of knowing that someone she didn't invite had been in her home going through all of her belongings. It felt wrong.

"Do you really think using blood was necessary? I've never been comfortable using my blood in spells before."

"Of course you haven't."

Igor's dramatic eyeroll once annoyed her, but for whatever odd reason that evening she found it almost amusing. At the very least it put a smile on her face.

"Hogwarts has always been far too terrified of the Dark Arts to understand there are times that blood is really the only option. Not everything blood-related is inherently evil, you know."

Before he could start up on a lecture about the shortcomings of the school she attended versus the one he both attended and became the Headmaster of, Hermione shut him up by announcing she was going to go down the corridor for a few minutes. The stiffening of Igor's shoulders when she explained she needed to speak to George was subtle but visible. Was he concerned that she was about to do something he wouldn't like? He didn't even know George very well. How could he have a problem with her just speaking him? She decided that she would never fully understand anything about the man.

Only one knock on the front door of George's flat was necessary to get the master of the house to appear. Though he offered her what she knew he hoped would look like one of his normal, upbeat smiles, there had been a shift between them. Ever since Igor appeared it had been uncomfortable between them. She knew without having to ask that he had been avoiding her whenever possible. Even as George invited her inside and offered her something to drink like a proper host, she still wasn't sure what she was going to say to him.

"Afraid I'm out of fire whiskey but I think I have some butterbeer in the cupboard."

"That's fine, thank you."

George wasn't expecting her to just drop in on him as she used to do all the time. He wasn't cold exactly. Just definitely not as warm as he used to be with her. Was his pride still hurt from her rejection? Did he hate her? She sincerely hoped not. His friendship was one of the best parts of her entire life. Every day that she feared they were moving further and further apart, the sadder she grew.

"Have you noticed anyone unusual in the building the last few days?"

Something about his smirk bothered her though she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe it just didn't feel as innocent as it used to. Everything was changed.

"You mean other than the murdered Death Eater back from the dead?"

A heavy sigh came bursting out of her mouth. Why did she think it would be easy to talk to him?

"Someone broke into my flat last night when Igor and I were out looking for Crookshanks."

Nothing but genuine concern remained on George's face when he heard that bit of information. He sat down on the edge of the sofa next to her, clearly worried.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It was just scary."

"Did they take anything valuable?"

"No, they didn't. That's what makes it all the more confusing. Nothing is missing. Not even any of the money in my nightstand."

Red streaks appeared on the wizard's neck. He was getting angrier by the second. Even as he tried to remain calm she knew him well enough to know when he was upset.

"It's that fucking ring of his, isn't it?"

Another sigh. She couldn't lie.

"Probably."

"What's so special about it? Other than it can bring arseholes back from the dead?"

Choosing to ignore the insult, she shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know."

"Then find out. Isn't that what Hermione Granger does? Goes off and finds the answer no one else can in some dusty book when it's needed?"

Some of his usual cheekiness returned. She smiled, but it was mostly sad. It would never be the same between them as it was before the night she recited the incantation on the back of the ring. They could stay friends, of course. It just would always be different.

"Thank you, George."

His smile in return was also a little bit sad.

"I'll keep an eye out for suspicious characters lingering around the building, but you need to find out more about that ring."

There was a time when she would have gladly spent the rest of the evening sitting on George's sofa laughing and talking with her best friend. So many wonderful memories had been made in that flat. Maybe a day would come when they could do it again. It wasn't that night. Only there a matter of about a quarter of an hour, it was one of the shortest visits she'd ever had. She tried not to think how sad that was as she made her way back to her flat.

One step inside her lounge she heard the voices. There were at least two of them. Masculine, mostly likely. With her hand on the end of her wand she rushed inside so quickly that she didn't bother to close the front door. Ready to duel if necessary, she relaxed as soon as she heard the laughter. The events of the previous twenty-four hours had put her in a strange state of paranoia. It was only Igor and his son.

Seeing Pasha standing inside his father's bedroom inspecting his potions was a nice surprise. Their relationship was far from perfect and would likely take years to develop into something that could be described as normal, but they were making strides. Maybe they would use their second chance to their advantage and maybe Igor would stop wishing he was dead all of the time.

At that errant thought, she stopped herself. Was she sad to think about a day when he would no longer be around? That couldn't be right. No, she was not developing any sort of charitable feelings about the obnoxious man. Sure, he was fun to roll around in bed with, but that was it. If he achieved his wish to return to paradise, she would be pleased.

Perhaps it was a little bit wrong to approach the bedroom door quietly to try to eavesdrop on their conversation, but she couldn't deny that she was curious to know what they were talking about that had them both laughing. Unfortunately, she discovered immediately that they were freely conversing in a language she didn't know. That was frustrating. There were courses she could take to magically learn another language much faster than traditional, non-magical means. She should look into one without telling Igor. Wouldn't it be fun to understand what he was muttering under his breath without him even realizing she knew?

There was no opportunity to even wait patiently for them to slip back into English before she was spotted. A loud meow from Crookshanks who was still happily resting on one of Igor's pillows alerted the two men to her presence. Pasha was pleased to see her if the wide smile he had on his face was to be believed and with him, she knew it was, but Igor looked uncomfortable with her sudden arrival. He cleared his throat before picking up a stirring rod for something to keep his hands occupied. As curious as she was to know what they were talking about, she decided it didn't really matter and it was hardly any of her business what a father and a son spoke about when they were alone. Didn't they deserve some privacy? Once she made awkward eye contact with Igor she addressed him directly.

"Did you tell Pasha what happened?"

His blue eyes grew wide and confused.

"Why would I tell him about that?"

Evidently, they weren't thinking about the same topic. She gritted her teeth and tried not to roll her eyes. Did men never think about anything else?

"Not that. The break-in."

Igor was relieved to know she wasn't referring to their late night activities at the Muggle hotel or what happened when they returned that morning in the shower. When they were alone she intended to be blunt. Why would she ever tell Pasha about that? It wasn't his business and she didn't want to discuss her sex life with her lover's son. That was just wrong.

"Oh, yes, I did. He's very concerned."

Pasha was curious about their private conversation they were somehow managing to have in front of him, but he was polite enough to not ask for details. He offered Hermione another warm encouraging smile.

"It sounds very frightening. Are you all right?"

She nodded.

"I'm fine, but we need to know more about your father's ring. We believe that's what they came to find."

Pasha was in agreement with their theory.

"Great-Grandmama must know more. We should ask her."

As soon as he made his suggestion, it was obvious to everyone that Igor was uncomfortable with the idea. He didn't think asking his grandmother was a good choice. She didn't know why, but Hermione felt the urge to take pity on the wizard.

"It's probably best no one know he is alive just yet."

"Yes, you're right. You can come to lunch with me, Hermione, and we can find a way to ask."

Soon after that was decided Pasha made an excuse to leave the flat. Once they were alone again, Hermione couldn't help herself. She had to come right out and tell him what she was thinking.

"I would never tell your son what we do behind closed doors."

"Good. It's none of his business."

Satisfied that they were on the same page, Igor spun around to return his full attention to one of his bubbling cauldrons. Hermione felt like she should leave the room, but for a reason she didn't understand, she didn't really want to.

"What were you and Pasha laughing about when I walked in?"

Again he cleared his throat, a habit of his when he was nervous or uncomfortable, and clenched his jaw. Though he didn't want to talk about it, she was too tenacious and curious to let the matter drop before she was ready.

"You shut up quickly when you knew I was there."

He used a stirring rod to stir his potion. Anything for a distraction, she supposed.

"It was not important."

"But it sounds amusing. I want to know."

He continued to stir his potion without speaking. Usually his refusal to answer her question would anger her, but that moment she found it made her laugh which only seemed to annoy him more.

"I'm very busy. Can't you see that?"

"I can see that all of your cauldrons are currently simmering, meaning none of them need your attention."

"And how do you know that? Do you know everything?"

She chuckled, loving that she was getting under his skin. It was a fun game to play. With each step she took closer to him, he grew more uncomfortable.

"I've been accused of being a know-it-all before."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders with a cheeky grin.

"Because you're old and jaded, I suppose. You must think nothing can surprise you anymore."

"Because nothing can, Charodeyka. Nothing you do or say at any rate."

"Oh, I highly doubt that."

The game she wanted to play could be dangerous if she wasn't careful. Before he even had a chance to react, she dropped to her knees in front of him. She had his trousers unzipped and his rapidly hardening cock in her mouth in a matter of a few seconds. After only a few moments of feeling her mouth, the wizard groaned and dropped the stirring rod into the cauldron. It was soon forgotten. There were other matters far more important to focus on after all.

Igor leaned back against the table just choosing to enjoy the sensations she was eliciting with her tongue and lips. Try as he might to deny it later, she had surprised him and he certainly wasn't complaining. The whole experience was intoxicating for Hermione. She knew she had power over him in that position and she loved it. He wasn't the sort to try to take the control away from her in some sort of degrading move. Not all men were like that. He was content just to let her do as she pleased.

Experience with other men in her past taught her to know when he was about to reach his climax. She could feel the muscles in his body tensing up. It was all the more exciting to speed up and intensify the motions of her mouth. Just when she was certain he was about to come undone completely, the infuriating wizard stepped to the side, dislodging his cock in the process. Who was dumb enough to stop when they were that close? She didn't understand.

Not until he pulled her to her feet, spun her around, and bent her over the table between two cauldrons that was at any rate. With hardly any removal of her clothing, he was able to take her behind. She nearly screamed at the feel of him confidently pushing inside. Being on her knees had already excited her body enough that she had no problems accepting what he wished to give. The first hard thrust was the most gentle. He only grew rougher and faster as he continued. She had no complaints.

The whole coupling was fast and furious and delightful. She tried to keep her screams down, but the man had a way of drawing them out of her with little effort. Her own release came only seconds before his. As they were catching their breath, Igor leaned down to whisper in her ear while he was still safely tucked inside her body. His chest rested against her back.

"Now that is how you surprise someone."

She couldn't think clearly enough to come up with a cheeky remark fast enough. That was always the trouble of being with a man who knew what he was doing. Just before she could make a comment of any kind a loud throat clearing in the doorway of the bedroom froze her in place. They weren't alone.

Mortification like she had never experienced in her life overtook Hermione when she dared to look over to see Pasha standing only steps away with an amused, knowing grin on his handsome face. Based on how tense Igor suddenly grew, she knew she wasn't alone in her feeling. How were they supposed to handle the next few seconds? Would it be more awkward to try to pull apart when he was watching or should they just remain frozen in place like nothing out of the ordinary was occurring?

"You left your front door open, Hermione. Not the best idea during times like these."

Pasha was on the verge of bursting out into loud laughter. The diplomat in him was struggling to remain calm and composed.

"I just came to tell you that Great-Grandmama is expecting us both at lunch tomorrow at noon."

How could he so calmly invite her to lunch when she was bent over a table with his father still inside her? She just knew she was going to die of embarrassment before the encounter was over. In her desire to prove to Igor she could surprise him and his need to prove himself capable of surprising her instead, they'd both been surprised. And it wasn't all that pleasant or enjoyable. She tried to push away the very real worry that because her front door was open, Pasha and all of the rest of the building's occupants heard her failed attempts at not screaming. And it wasn't like Igor was all that quiet when he was in the throes either. She was going to have to move. That was a shame. Even though her unwanted houseguest kept calling it a hovel, she loved it.

"Thank you, Pasha. I will see you then."

She hoped that her voice was strong enough to hide the fact that she was only a few seconds away from dying right there of embarrassment. What if Igor felt the same way? If they both died in that position… No, she couldn't afford to think about that. It was insane. No one actually died of humiliation. Somehow she would get over what happened and be able to look her friend in the eye again. It might take the rest of her life, but she felt confident that before she died of old age, she could get over it.

No longer even trying to hide the fact that he found the situation he'd inadvertently walked up on funny, the laughter was obvious in Pasha's voice as he addressed his father even if he wasn't speaking English. Whatever the wizard said in Russian only made Igor tense up further. Thankfully as soon as Pasha finally lost all control and burst out laughing, he quickly left the flat.