Chapter Fifteen

Regret and shame usually came in the morning after an evening of questionable decisions. Hermione was embarrassed to admit that she didn't feel the least bit of either emotion when the tiniest sliver of sunlight burst through the crack in the drapes to hit her in the face. Maybe she should've felt a measure of at least one or the other, but she didn't. She enjoyed every second from beginning to end. The wizard knew what he was doing.

The first night he returned from the dead he claimed that there had been multiple female professors at Hogwarts the year he was there for the Triwizard Tournament that happily sought out his company on the long, cold Scottish nights. She didn't believe at the time that he was sincere in his boasting. It seemed too far-fetched. He hadn't exactly aged well in his previous lifetime. Of course a lot could be said for the poor lonely souls trapped in the castle with few options for companionship. After the previous night and the aches she still felt throughout most of her body, she had to amend her opinion. She couldn't exactly blame the professors for seeking him out if that was what they had to look forward to.

Still exhausted from his exertions, Igor's head remained on his pillow. In the light of day, what little was offered from the covered window at any rate, Hermione thought she could see a new side to the wizard. He was usually on his guard at all times when he was awake. Asleep, he was much more relaxed. She couldn't keep from staring at him.

"What?"

Evidently she needed to learn how to be more careful in how she observed him. How did he always know? Was she shaking the bed? Did he have superhuman hearing?

"I'm wondering if I have to start being nice to you now."

With his eyes still firmly closed, Igor chuckled. It was a nice sound that she couldn't believe she'd previously despised. Perhaps she just hadn't given it a fair chance.

"I don't see why you must."

No longer wishing to remain asleep, Igor sat up in bed. The blanket fell, exposing his bare chest. He raised his arms above his head to stretch his tired muscles. Hermione couldn't stop staring. Despite all of the activity from the night before, she was ready to do it all over again. Clearly the attraction she felt for him wasn't solely because of the heated emotions they experienced after finding her flat ransacked. She didn't want to think too much of it. Maybe later when she had some time to herself.

"I would suggest a shared shower to begin the day, but I had a good look in there last night and I rather wish I hadn't."

Hermione could not agree more with his assessment of the hotel room's bathing facilities. It had been a shock when she went in there too. There was nothing, not even a thousand cleaning spells, that would entice her to step foot in that awful shower. Igor set his feet on the floor and stood up, fully revealing his still naked body to her gaze. Yes, she would gladly share a shower with the man anywhere else.

"Let's go back to your flat. You can send an owl to your office that you won't be in today. After a long shower, we can clean up the mess and strengthen your wards."

Ordinarily, Hermione didn't appreciate any man ordering her about and making suggestions that she skip work. Only the fact that she agreed entirely with his idea kept her from making some snide remark that would only create tension. Instead, she couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him just a little.

"If you're not careful, one might think you've forgotten how much you would like to return to paradise."

He turned to smile at her over his shoulder.

"I still want to return, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy myself before then."

There was a great deal of promise in his simple statement. Unless she put a stop to it immediately, she got the feeling they would be repeating what happened the night before over and over again. Igor wasn't the type, Death Eater or not, to force himself upon an unwilling woman, but he knew without question that there was nothing unwilling about Hermione. A pleasant shiver went up her spine. She could hardly wait.

Thinking about the large, clean shower back at her flat was enough of an incentive for neither of them to linger long in that horrible hotel room. After dressing quickly lest they fall back onto the lumpy mattress and miss the checkout time, they rushed back to her building. It was still very early in the morning when they arrived. Most residents would still be getting ready for work assuming they were even out of bed yet.

Though neither of them said so out loud, they were both nervous about being back inside the building. Each step they made down the corridor closer to her flat seemed to feel more tense. What if the guilty party decided to come back after they left? They could very easily be wandering back into a dangerous situation. It angered Hermione all over again that someone would dare to disturb the peace of her home. She had hoped all of that was put behind her years ago when the war ended. Would she ever truly be safe?

Just as they reached the front door of her flat and were prepared to open the door to hopefully not face down the intruder, Pasha's front door opened instead. Both Igor and Hermione jumped at the sound of the squeaky door. Pasha wasn't alone. When he stepped out in the corridor a sleepy half-kneazle came out with him. Seeing Crookshanks unharmed and whole, Hermione never felt more relieved. She didn't hesitate to pick her cat up to cuddle him and make certain her eyes weren't deceiving her. Igor reached over to pet Crookshanks' head to assure himself of the same. Their mutual sighs of relief exploded out of each of them at the same time. Hermione had been terrified all night long that they would never find her cat or if they did, he wouldn't be all right.

"He was outside my bedroom window scratching to get inside very late last night."

Pasha had no reason to believe that there was any specific reason to be concerned about his neighbor's cat. It wasn't the first time the creature scratched at his window or demanded his attention. Like father, like son apparently. Pasha was one of the few people in the entire world that Crookshanks liked. The number grew smaller with each day the elderly cat lived on.

"I let him sleep here last night."

"Thank you, Pasha. I was worried when I couldn't find him last night."

"When I went to return him this morning, no one home."

Igor's son really was far too perceptive for Hermione's liking. Looking them both up and down with their disheveled clothing and hair that really could've used some taming, he raised an eyebrow. Recognizing that maybe Pasha was on the way to recognizing why they were in the state they were in, Igor cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Pasha. You must've just missed us. We went out for breakfast."

Although it was evident that Pasha didn't believe their story, he didn't push. No, he wasn't the sort. He would wait patiently for either the story to completely unravel on its own as lies tended to do or until one of them chose to be honest. There would be plenty of time for that later. As he was needed at the embassy, he wished them a good day and left the building for work.

Not wanting Pasha to get a glimpse of the disarray that her flat was in, Hermione waited until he was halfway down the corridor before opening the front door. Stepping inside and seeing all of the devastation made her sick to her stomach again. While it didn't seem so frightening in the light of day, it was still upsetting. Igor cast a homenum revelio to put their fears at ease. When it was proven they were alone, she headed straight for the kitchen to feed Crookshanks.

As she watched her cat devour his breakfast, she couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that something was wrong with him. Or at least wrong with what happened. Though it wasn't unlike him to seek out Pasha or George when he wanted to see them, his disappearance made her uneasy. It was all very strange. He'd wandered off before and come back a day or two later, but her home had never been invaded while she was out looking for him. She wished she could speak to her cat to find out the details of the night before. Had he been captured by the intruder and released only after they gave up trying to find him? She had to admit that it made for an effective distraction.

Knowing it was fruitless to just wish that her pet could somehow start speaking in perfect English, Hermione headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She never cared for mornings where she was unable to take care of her oral hygiene first thing. Spells were possible to provide the most basic of cleansing, but they were nowhere near as effective as a simple toothbrush.

She was surprised to find Igor was already in there with the same plan. A toothbrush already in his mouth, he couldn't speak. He just acknowledged her entrance with a raising of his eyebrows. She hoped that he would continue to take better care of his teeth in his second chance than he did in his first life. It was a shame to remember how he turned out. Her mother always claimed that the cleanliness of a person's teeth was often a clear indicator of their mental health. Hermione supposed she could see some sense in that. Depressed people didn't always have the necessary energy to bathe or groom themselves. Was that why he hadn't bothered to care for his teeth as he should have? She could only imagine what it was like for him after he was released from his short prison sentence after turning against his former comrades.

As long as he was around her, she would make certain that he continued to brush and floss on a daily basis. The moment that thought crossed her mind she had to chastise herself for thinking it at all. Why was she imagining Igor would be part of her future? No, he wasn't. They had one enjoyable night of naked debauchery. It didn't have to mean more than that. He had already begun the process of earning his own money to move out. Once he was out of her flat, he would be out of her hair.

"Your son didn't seem to believe your breakfast lie."

Igor smirked around his toothbrush. After he rinsed out his mouth, he chuckled.

"Because he's smart. Gets that from my side of the family."

She was annoyed that she found him charming that morning instead of annoying like usual. If there was any hope of everything returning to normal, she had to stop thinking charitable thoughts about him.

"What should we tell him if he asks again?"

"I'm not ashamed of the truth but it might give him the wrong impression."

Thinking about Pasha even suspecting what she did with his father was enough to make her cheeks burn. He had been a good friend for years and while he had never made any comments about the men she had dated before, she valued his opinion. Would he think less of her if he knew that she succumbed to her primal instincts in a moment of stress? No, she couldn't let him find out about what they'd done. It would be too weird.

"I'm not your soulmate, Karkaroff."

"No, you're not, Charodeyka."

"I don't even like you."

He laughed again at her statement. Slowly he closed the distance between them in just a few steps that made her heart begin to race. She held her toothbrush up but couldn't quite get it in her mouth. How could he make her feel both so nervous and excited all at the same time? Thoughts of the previous night rushed through her mind. Would it be wrong of her to want more?

"You seemed to like me very much last night."

Remembering herself, she snorted out a derisive laugh. Or at least she hoped that's what it sounded like. She couldn't afford to let him think she liked him. That would get far too complicated. They had enough of those already.

"Your wicked tongue maybe, but not you."

Far from being offended by her remark, Igor's grin only grew wider. She felt a fluttering in her stomach. How was it possible that he could make her feel like that with just a smile? It was insane. All of it. From the very moment that he first kissed her the night before they hadn't been operating within their right minds.

"I think you liked more than just that."

He reached for her hand. Confused what he was attempting to do, she didn't even struggle or try to pull it back. When he placed her palm on his rapidly expanding groin, she had to roll her eyes with a laugh. Subtlety was clearly not the order of the day. Even after all of their strenuous activity the night before and early that morning, he was ready to go again. She couldn't deny that that sounded like a wonderful way to begin their morning, but again she knew she couldn't let him get too arrogant. Truthfully the man's head was already far too big. If he wasn't careful, it would soon roll off his neck entirely.

"It's serviceable. Doesn't mean I like it."

Igor didn't believe her words any more than she meant them. Yes, damn it, she had been impressed. She'd been impressed when she first saw him naked the night he returned from the dead. Knowing with first-hand experience that he knew how to use what he had been given made her even more so. His continued chuckling, however, was on the verge of annoying her. To give her the metaphorical upper hand in that particular interaction, she gently squeezed him through his trousers. With only one stroke of her hand she was able to pull another deep groan out of him. She was sure she wouldn't ever get tired of hearing that noise come out of his mouth. All of the other sounds he made? She could do without them.

Before she could torture him any further, Igor stepped out of her reach. With his eyes still focused on hers, he backed up to the shower. Hers was much better than the one offered by their horrible hotel room. He turned the taps on. The water always took a minute or two to reach the optimum temperature even with the spells on the pipes. Magic, unfortunately, wasn't an easy fix for everything.

"Have you sent that owl to your office yet that you won't be coming in today?"

"No, not yet."

"You should do that right now."

"Why? What do you care?"

"Because once I have you inside this shower with me, we're going to lose all sense of time."

Truly the man was too arrogant, but she had to admit, even if only to herself, that she was starting to like it a great deal. She knew the morning was progressing. Ignoring the cheeky wink he shot her across the bathroom as he undressed, Hermione spun on her heel to make her exit. Yes, she could see the sense in his suggestion that she get that task out of the way at once. All she needed was for her direct supervisor to try to floo call her when she didn't arrive at her usual time and see the mess of her flat. He was a dear man who seemed to actually like her as a person. One glance at the mess and he would be rushing across the level straight to the Auror Office. Or worse, straight to Kingsley's office. That was a definite complication she couldn't afford. The Minister for Magic was tenacious and far too curious for his own good.

Part of her would always feel a little bit guilty lying about being sick when she needed to miss a day of work. Some of her coworkers never hesitated to scribble off their own notes of excuse. It was something that had always annoyed and frustrated her to no end. Sure, work wasn't always enjoyable or the place she wanted to be, but she had a responsibility to make sure her job got done. When her coworkers were out, sick or just playing sick, she got stuck with their work. It was hardly fair. Even as she attached the short note to the leg of her post owl she was tempted to forget the plans that had already been made and go into the office.

Nearly all of that guilt disappeared the moment she stepped back inside her bathroom to see the handsome wizard standing underneath the hot spray of the shower. He hadn't wasted any time with the soap. She had to stop in the doorway to admire the flesh on display.

"You're wasting hot water. You and I both know it doesn't last forever in your hovel."

Leave it to Igor to make her smile and start to remove her own clothes while she rolled her eyes. It was said in a teasing tone, but she knew that he was still no fan of her flat. Maybe he only claimed to despise it to get under skin. From underneath the hot water he stared as she removed everything. Just the feel of his eyes sent shivers up her spine. The promise of pleasure from the second she stepped in the shower with him was strong.

"Don't think for one moment that I like you, Igor. I don't. That hasn't changed."

There was a knowing smirk on his lips when he stepped aside to let her stand underneath the water. She closed her eyes to get her hair wet. Strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind and she felt the wizard press a kiss just outside her ear. One of the skilled hands slid down her belly. How was it possible to make her gasp with just a single touch of his fingertips?

"You don't have to like me. Just keep letting me between these beautiful thighs of yours and you can hate me all you want."

"Deal."