CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Summary: Nine years after the war, Hermione's the Head of the Auror Department that specialises in dealing with Magical Creatures and fugitive Death Eaters that are loose in the Muggle World. With the fugitive Death Eaters no longer hiding in Britain, she's tracking rogue Death Eaters in the United States, which leads her to The Winchester brothers. The Witch and The Hunters are a dynamic trio that no creature, being or beast wishes to mess with, Magical or Supernatural. Hermione/Dean pairing. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: I don't own original canon characters or events, just those that I create myself. Everything belongs to J.K Rowling and the creators of Supernatural. I am not making a profit posting this fanfic.
Page count: 12
He dropped on top of her, they were both breathless and panting and Hermione felt boneless. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she forced them down, she would not cry in front of him, not after what he'd just made her feel. Something she thought was impossible, she thought she was broken, but he went and proved her wrong.
He was placing butterfly kisses against her neck and shoulders, before he lifted his head and buried his hands in her hair, kissing her languidly. He pulled back for air and then shuffled off her, lying down beside her and wrapping her up in his arms with the blanket covering them.
"I knew it," he said tiredly, his head buried in the crook of her neck.
"What?" She asked, trying to keep her voice calm, though on the inside she was far from it.
"The sex would be fantastic," he mumbled and Hermione held in a sob at that, and he was asleep minutes later, his breathing even and she could feel his smile pressed against the skin of her neck.
Hermione waited a few minutes before carefully extracting herself from his hold and she climbed out of bed, she found her shorts and slipped them on, along with Dean's discarded t-shirt which fell past her shorts. She found her wand and put out the candles before creeping out of the room and heading to the living room.
With tears now falling down her face, and not caring for the time difference, she flooed to London.
~000~000~000~
Hermione stumbled out of the floo in the study of 12 Grimmauld Place. At the sound of the floo Harry entered the room, looking as though he were about to head to bed himself, and given the time in London, it meant he had been working late at the office.
When he saw Hermione, now a sobbing mess, he rushed over to her and hugged her tightly.
"What happened?" He asked her quickly, and he managed to pull her to the couch where she sat down and curled into him as she cried.
"Dean... we..."
"You?" He prompted.
"He made me..."
He bristled and anger filled him. "What did he make you do?" He asked, anger laced into his words.
"He... made... me... orgasm," she got out through her wracking sobs and Harry felt the anger leaving him, realising that she wasn't hurt, just confused.
"He did?" He questioned softly, rubbing her back and she nodded against his shoulder.
"Twice," she sniffled. "I thought I was broken Harry, I thought there was something wrong with me."
"Maybe the others weren't that good in bed," he offered.
She sniffled and laughed. "Harry I slept with Adrian Bloody Pucey, there's a reason he's known as 'The Sinful Slytherin.'" He rolled his eyes at the title. "I've been with eight men and none of them have been able to do what Dean's just done."
"Fluke?"
"No, it wasn't, he didn't just make me orgasm, he brought out the feline traits in me."
"The others have done that before," he mentioned.
"Not like Dean, I know with the others my eyes changed, they always told me when it happened and some of them were frightened by it."
"And?"
"Dean didn't ask me about it, I think he actually found it funny. And I grew claws, which has never happened before, not with anyone, I scratched his back to the point of drawing blood, and I purred at him."
"You purred?" He asked disbelieving.
She nodded. "I bloody well purred, like a Kneazle in heat." He snorted at her and she weakly slapped his chest. "He didn't even bat an eyelash when he saw my scars, he didn't insult me and he didn't look disgusted either. Harry, I don't know what's happening. He's the only man that's been able to make me orgasm. Did you know he can calm me after a nightmare?"
"I thought I was the only one able to do that," he said surprised.
"So did I, and since that night when we passed out drunk, we've slept beside each other, whether it be in the car, in a bed or on a couch, even if we're sleeping in separate rooms or separate beds, we always end up sleeping beside each other," she admitted. "I sleep better beside him; my nightmares aren't as vivid when he's nearby. I'm drawn to him and I have been since day one, and I'm not the only one, Dean confessed the same, he's drawn to me and Sam's drawn to me, too, but in a familial way."
"You think there's magic involved," he stated.
"Isn't there Harry? He made me bloody orgasm! Twice!"
He snorted at her and smiled when she pulled back to look at him. Her cheeks were shining from her tears and her eyes were red, but she was a lot calmer.
"There's something about him, Harry, and the thought of him with another woman knocks me ill, and from what I can tell, he feels the same. The only reason we ended up having sex is because he came to my room, pacing back and forth, muttering about how he had planned the deaths of twenty-three men." He raised an eyebrow. "We were working a case; a demon was abducting and killing blonde women with brown eyes, in their mid twenties, that were only children and orphans."
"With a simple spell to change your hair, you're the perfect victim," he nodded in understanding.
"We went to the night club and I was bait, it took three hours to find the guy responsible but we did. I often caught him just staring at me whilst I was dancing, and when a man approached me, I could practically feel the death glare he was sending their way." He chuckled at her words. "He shouldn't be so possessive of me, nor me of him, not after barely even a week. I shouldn't feel this way, it's not natural."
He could see she was distressed. "Hermione, calm down," he said gently. "If you're correct and magic is involved, I'm sure you'll figure it out, but in the meantime, you need to come to terms with this. You obviously like Dean and as for the sex..."
"Bloody fantastic sex," she interrupted making Harry laugh.
"As for the bloody fantastic sex," he corrected amused, "Maybe you should enjoy it, who knows what will develop between the two of you?"
"He's asked me to come with him and Sam." He raised an eyebrow at her statement. "He wants me to travel with them, working on cases, I'll help them with theirs and they'll help me with mine, we'll both learn about what the other knows."
"It's not a bad idea, it could help to build bridges between Hunters and wizarding folk, preventing any killings of our people," he commented and she nodded.
"He said he wants to see what could happen between us. The more time I spend around him, the deeper my attraction becomes and the pull towards him becomes stronger. I like being around him, he doesn't treat me as others do, and I don't think he'd hurt me the way the others did." He glowered at her words, knowing what and who she was referring to. "He treats me as though I'm a regular person, as though I'm not famous, or rich, or powerful, or smart, just a normal person. He doesn't even flinch anymore when I use magic around him."
"You like him," it wasn't a question, it was a statement.
She sighed, "Yes, I do, I like him. I trust him Harry. He's more like me than you realise." He arched his eyebrow at her. "We both have suffered and faced evil at its truest form and survived, we're both tainted and scarred, we both fight to protect our loved ones and we both protect the innocent. We have different backgrounds, but we're the same in so many ways, it's strange."
He chuckled at her. "Can you see yourself with him in the future?" He asked curiously.
She frowned. "For some reason I can, whether it's only a few weeks from now or even a few months, I can see him being a part of my future, no matter how long it lasts or if it lasts."
"Stop worrying Hermione, you'll be fine, just enjoy yourself and don't get yourself killed. Now, you better get back to him before he wakes up and realises that you aren't there."
She sighed and nodded, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek.
"Goodnight, Harry,"
"Night, 'Mione," he said, as she stood and disappeared through the floo.
~000~000~000~
When Hermione entered her room and shut the door behind her, it was to see Dean wrapped around her pillow. She looked down at herself and debated removing her clothes so it wouldn't be suspicious, but she decided against it and climbed into bed. The moment she laid down, Dean released the pillow and pulled her into him, a humming sound leaving him as he wrapped himself around her and buried his head into her neck. She held back a chuckle and before she knew it, she had fallen asleep herself.
~000~000~000~
Hermione had no idea what time it was, but she was woken by the feel of soft kisses being placed against her neck and a possessive hand pressed flat against her stomach under her t-shirt, whilst fingers trailed over part of her scar.
"Morning," she said groggily, turning onto her back to stretch with her hands above her head.
"Why are wearing clothes?" Dean asked, seeming to be far more awake than she was and looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.
She shrugged. "I woke up and I was hungry, so I made a sandwich." It wasn't a lie, when she returned from Harry's she had made a sandwich because she had been hungry. He looked amused by her answer.
'When isn't she hungry?' He thought amused.
"Now that you're awake, why don't you explain to me what happened last night."
"Well, when two people are attracted to each other and they..." She squealed when he bent his head and nipped at her neck.
"Oh, I know what happened last night," he said against her ear, a husky tone to his voice. "I meant with your eyes."
"Why? Did it freak you out?"
"No, it didn't, it was just strange."
"I told you I was affected by something that happened to me when I was thirteen, that was one of the side effects."
"So why were your eyes like a cat's?"
"Harry, Ron and I needed a way to get into the Slytherin common room because we needed to know what Draco knew about the Heir of Slytherin, this was our second year and the time of The Chamber of Secrets being opened. I brewed Polyjuice Potion and it took me a month, all we needed was the hair of the person we wished to turn into. Harry and Ron knocked out Crabbe and Goyle using the cakes I had laced with a Sleeping Potion, and I had already retrieved my hair. Their transformations went perfectly, mine, however, didn't." He raised an eyebrow at her. "I took my hair from a girl's robes, and I believed it to belong to her. It turned out it belonged to her cat. Polyjuice is only meant for human transfiguration, not animals. I was turned into a strange human-cat hybrid. I'm talking pointed furry ears, whiskers, cat eyes and a bloody tail." He stared, eyes wide before he started laughing. "It's not funny, I was stuck in the hospital wing for two weeks until I was cured, but even now, I'm still affected by it and the traits tend to come out during sex."
"So your eyes?"
"Yes, it always happens during sex, but last night I showed a few traits that have never shown themselves before."
"Really?" he perked up, looking far too pleased with himself at that news.
"Yes, my eyes didn't just change, I purred at you which has never happened before and I grew cat-like claws, which again, has never happened before. Speaking of, show me your back, I know for a fact I scratched you deeply enough to draw blood, I'll have to heal it for you."
"I think you should leave it," he smirked at her.
"Of course you do," she rolled her eyes. "Fine, let it get infected, see if I care."
He chuckled, lowering his head and nibbling at neck, she sighed and threaded her hands through his hair. He shifted on top of her, cradling himself in her thighs and she could feel the hard length of him resting against her.
"I want to see if I can make you purr again," he whispered against her ear and she shuddered beneath him as his hands gripped the t-shirt and he pulled it over her head, dropping it to the ground. His eyes darkened when her bare breasts were revealed to him.
"But I'm hungry," she whined.
He smirked down at her. "So am I," he replied and she moaned as he ducked down and pulled a nipple into his mouth, his hands moving down her body until he reached her shorts and his hands gripped at the waistband.
He pulled away from her long enough to remove the offending material and he continued with his exploration of her body, moving his mouth lower and lower over her stomach until he came to the apex of her thighs.
Hermione's eyes had darkened and her breath hitched when his breath ghosted over her. He gave her a wicked smirk before pushing her thighs further apart and burying his head between her legs, taking a long, slow swipe, groaning at the taste of her. She let out a whimper and her hands fisted the sheets of her bed, her chest rose and fell and her face was likely flushed but she didn't care, the wicked things the man was doing with his tongue made her lose all thought.
She had only had this done a few times, but after being left frustrated she'd not allowed anyone to do so again. But when Dean sucked her nub into mouth and swirled his tongue teasingly over it, dipping two fingers into her entrance, she didn't care if he was unable to give her release, she just didn't want him to stop.
He looked up at her over her pelvic bone, to see that her eyes had once again changed; now there were more feline-like, like they had been the night before. He groaned seeing the change and the vibrations of the sound had Hermione mewling, her hands coming away from the sheets to tangle in his hair and tugging harshly on the strands. He pumped his fingers inside of her whilst his mouth worked its magic on her nub, and to her relief and surprise, he pulled an orgasm from her.
Her head flew back and her nails turned claw-like, scraping against his scalp. He lapped at her and just as she was coming down from her high, he shifted himself and pushed into her, catching the tail-end of her orgasm. Her walls pulled him into her and they both let out noises of pleasure.
Dean was quite sure he could die a happy man right now. Watching as Hermione wriggled and writhed beneath, as she wrapped her thighs around him, allowing him to move deeper and she lifted her hips to meet each of his thrusts. As her eyes shone and he could feel her nails, once again drawing blood from where they were digging into his shoulders. He listened carefully, listened to the sounds she was making and to boost his ego, he realised that she wasn't only whimpering and keening, she was, in fact, purring.
He ducked his head down to leave yet another possessive mark on her, totalling it up to three now, and he groaned when she turned her head to suck his earlobe into her mouth, nibbling and he could hear the purring, he feel could it rumbling in her chest as their bodies were pressed tightly together.
He shifted his hips, changing the angle and the minute he did, Hermione's head flew back and a loud purr left her lips as her already tight walls clamped down on him so tightly, it was bordering painful and he was helpless to hold it back, especially when her nails once again clawed at his back and he could feel the warm liquid running down his skin.
His entire body felt as though he were on fire and he tingled, as he came inside of her he cursed and gripped the pillow on either side of Hermione's head. If he weren't already so close to her, he would've collapsed on top of her. Instead he settled for burying his head into her neck as she purred against his ear and her hands softly ran through his hair.
"I'm hungry," Hermione suddenly said, breaking the silence.
Dean pulled his head back to look down at her, watching her eyes slowly return to her usual chocolate brown. She had a sleepy sated smile on her face and he chuckled at her.
"That's all you have to say?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
"You're already arrogant enough as is it, I don't want to boost your ego; you won't be able to fit through the door."
"But I made you purr," he said smugly.
She sighed, "You're the only man that's made me purr," she confessed, and despite not wanting to boost his ego, she had done so.
He shifted off her and pulled her against him.
She sighed. "I'm hungry, but I can't be bothered making breakfast, I hate doing this," she muttered, as she snuggled against him.
"Doing what?" He asked.
She sat up and pulled the blanket to cover herself, Dean sat up and her eyes trained on his well defined chest as the blanket pooled around his waist. She pulled herself together when she saw him smirk.
"Mimsy," she called.
Dean jumped when she appeared in the room before Hermione had even finished speaking.
"What can Mimsy do for Mistress?" She asked, bowing, her eyes narrowing on Dean when she saw their current state of undress and no doubt their rumpled appearances, of which you could only associate with sex.
"Can you please tell me the time?"
"Of course, Mistress, it be 09:47," she said.
"Thank you, is Sam awake?"
"Yes, Mistress, Mr. Sam left thirty minutes ago, he tell Mimsy he want to run and he would get breakfast whilst he be out. Mimsy tell him he not do that, Mimsy make breakfast for him, but he not listen." Dean snorted at the annoyed look on the house-elf's face. "Would Mistress be liking breakfast?"
"If you wouldn't mind," she smiled.
"What would Mistress be liking?"
"A cup of tea, some pancakes with chocolate sauce and bananas and some eggs, bacon and toast, please," she answered.
"Yes, Mistress, would the Sirs be liking breakfast?" She turned her attention to Dean and Hermione laughed when his eyes widened and Mimsy stared at him with narrowed eyes.
"Err, please," he said nervously.
Mimsy huffed when he didn't specify what he wanted. "Would would the Sirs' be liking?"
Hermione laughed louder as he shifted on the bed uncomfortably.
"A cup of coffee, with some bacon, eggs, sausages, toast and fried tomatoes?" He questioned.
"Mimsy do as the Sir wishes," she nodded. "What would Mistress be liking for dinner?"
"Mimsy, I am able to cook dinner myself, that's why I have a lovely kitchen," Hermione responded.
Mimsy stomped her foot and crossed her arms. "Mistress will not be cooking when she be home and Mimsy be here."
Hermione sighed and Dean chuckled at her, even as she leaned back, turning slightly to lean against him.
"Anything you prepare will be wonderful as always."
"Will there be pie?" Dean piped up, wrapping his arms around Hermione.
"Would the Sir be likings pie?" Mimsy questioned, looking excited that she had been asked to specifically make something, rather than being given free choice.
"If you wouldn't mind," he said, looking sheepish when Hermione scowled at him.
"Yes, Sirs, what pie would you be liking?"
"Now there's the question," he frowned.
"Mimsy, Dean would love any pie that you would make for him, it's his favourite dessert food, why don't you surprise him?"
"Mimsy do as Mistress suggests," she nodded. Her eyes then narrowed once again, looking between the two of them. "Has the Sir been kind to Mistress?"
"Yes, Mimsy, he is very kind to me."
"Would Sir be hurting my Mistress?" She glared at Dean and he gulped, despite the size of the little-elf, he was slightly afraid.
"I would never hurt Hermione, she would make sure I'd regret it," he replied.
Mimsy smiled proudly at Hermione and noticed the way Dean placed kisses to her shoulder.
"Mimsy like the Sir, he be good for my Mistress, you a good man." Dean stared in surprise as the house-elf disappeared from view.
"Wow," Hermione said, turning to look up at him. "You should be honoured; she doesn't like anyone except for Harry, she's very protective of me."
"Yeah, I can tell," he said, looking down at her and then he kissed her shoulder once more.
Hermione not wanting to get up just yet, laid back down and Dean followed her, pulling her into him.
"How did you get this?" She asked him, her fingers trailing over the three raised scars close to his hip.
"Werewolf," he responded.
"And this?" She circled the small circular scar near it.
"Bullet wound, Sammy shot me." She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Long story," he shrugged and she rolled her eyes.
She pointed to the hand shaped scars on both of his upper arms, close to his shoulders.
"From when Cas pulled me from hell."
"And this?" She pointed to a scar on his left, a straight thick line.
"Stabbed by a shape-shifter."
"You don't half get injured a lot," she mused.
He raised an eyebrow at her and quickly rolled her on to her back and he hovered over her.
"You're one to talk," he rested on his elbow and used his free hand to trail down her scar.
"How'd you get this?"
"I was sixteen, I got this from the battle at the Department of Mysteries, courtesy of Antonin Dolohov, a crazy fucker if you ask me. I was able to silence him, even casting the curse non-verbally it did some serious damage to me, if he had spoken the incantation, I would've died a slow and painful death." She saw the look of anger on his face. "He's dead, so you can't kill him," she informed him. He looked disappointed and she chuckled.
"These?" He asked, his fingers moving to trail the small collection of scars on her stomach close to her right hip.
"I was eighteen, I got them from jumping out of a three-story window. We were on the run, Ron had left and Harry and I walked into a trap. In order to stop him from being eaten alive by a giant snake, I pushed him out of the window and cushioned his fall, this is from the glass."
"And this?" He ran his finger over her neck lightly, trailing the scar.
"Eighteen, after I had been tortured by the crazy bitch, Bellatrix, Harry and Ron came to rescue me, she held a knife against my throat," she shrugged.
"This?" He touched her shoulder where there was a burn scar.
"Final Battle, hit with a ricocheted Incendio and I didn't see it coming."
"Anymore?" He asked, not being able to see anymore on her stomach.
"Yes, I have one on my leg from a werewolf, a large one on my back from being caught in the Final Battle with a Sectumsempra, and I have one on my left shoulder after a bad experience with a hippogriff."
She lifted her hand to push her riotous curls out of her face and that's when he saw it. The word 'Mudblood' carved into her arm in ugly, jaggered lettering. It was raised and still looked pink. He took her arm and frowned at it, he felt her tense beneath him.
"What does it mean?"
"It's a derogatory term for a Muggleborn, for someone of my blood. It means dirty blood, filth, vermin. I was branded this so that I could never forget my place in the world. So that I could never forget that I was inferior to everyone."
He was angered and horrified by her words.
"What's this for?" She asked him, changing the subject and he looked down to see her tracing the shape of his anti-possession tattoo.
"It stops demons from trying to possess my body, Sam has one, too. Now that you mention it, now that you're with us, you should probably get one as well."
"A tattoo?"
"Scared?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, it wouldn't be my first tattoo."
"It wouldn't?" He asked surprised as he hadn't seen a tattoo on her and she looked at him amused.
"It wouldn't, I have a tattoo on my shoulder, a phoenix, we all have one," she shrugged.
"We?" He questioned.
"Yes, me, Harry, Ginny, Ronald, George, Bill, Charlie and even Kingsley. We don't mention it because Mrs. Weasley hates tattoos and we wouldn't hear the end of it, it's why we all got them on our shoulders, it's easy to cover. So if I get this tattoo," her fingers were still tracing his tattoo, "I'll have to get it somewhere Mrs. Weasley won't be able to see."
"You'd actually get a tattoo because I told you to?"
"Yes, if it'll stop me from being possessed by a demon, then I'll get it. We wouldn't want me being taken over, now would we? Imagine would a demon could do with my magic." He shuddered and she laughed. "But..." He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "You have to get a tattoo as well."
"Of what?" He frowned.
"Of the symbols I drew on you," she shrugged. "They'll give you some protection from ricocheting spells, not a lot of course but it's better than nothing. We'd have to go to a magical tattoo parlour so magic can be embedded into the runes, in order to make them more effective."
"Magical tattoos?" He looked intrigued.
"Yes, magical tattoos are painless, though your immune system tends to weaken for a few weeks, and you may feel nauseous for a few hours, but once it's finished and healed -which doesn't take long- magical tattoos move. You should see some of Charlie's. He's got this massive dragon on his back and it flaps its wings and flicks its tail when Charlie's in a bit of a mood."
He looked amazed. "So if I were to get this tattoo, would it move?"
She frowned. "It wouldn't move in the way others might, but it may shimmer, like a flag in the wind. So, if I get this tattoo, will you get mine?"
He nodded. "Sammy will get it, too," he told her.
"So, what's our next case?" She asked him, once again changing the subject.
"We don't have one yet, until Sammy either comes across something or Bobby contacts us, we have some down time to do as we wish. Do you have any cases?"
"The same as you, unless I come across something or I am informed, I have some free time, which I haven't had in a long time. I've spent years tracking Death Eaters and after I closed one case, I had three more waiting for my attention. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I have some time to myself."
"I know how to use it wisely," he looked down at her, giving her a sinful smirk.
"Mistress, breakfast is served."
Dean startled at the sudden intrusion and he jumped off Hermione and away from her, afraid the scary house-elf would maim him and she chuckled.
"Thank you, Mimsy."
"Mr. Sam be entering the building, would you like for Mimsy to collect the Sir?"
"Yes, please, Mimsy," Hermione said, and Mimsy bowed and disappeared. "We better get up," she commented. Dean looked less than impressed at having being interrupted and she laughed at him.
"Breakfast is ready," she told him, climbing out of bed and walking to her bathroom, more than aware of the fact that Dean's eyes were glued to her naked figure as she did so.
He caught sight of the scars she had spoken about. In the middle of her back she had strange cross shaped scars, and on her left shoulder she had claw marks and on the back of her left leg, she also had claw marks. He was disappointed he hadn't been able to see her tattoo, since her tangle of curls were covering it.
"You should probably shower and dress," she called from her bathroom.
"And why can't I join you?" She heard him say and she heard the bed creak as he climbed off it.
"Because I'm hungry and if you join me we'll be here a while, wipe that smug look off your face," she said, knowing without actually looking.
She heard him laughing before her door opened and closed.