Vial of Black Ink - Lookin'
Okay, so I didn't finish this in October, but the remaining chapters will be out before the end of the year. Which is a lot. And that's not including all the other one-shots I'll be making for these two in the upcoming weeks.
A pair of arms wrapped around her, drawing her close so she could hear him whisper, "Your special."
She turned in his arms, one hand reaching up to touch his cheek. "I am?" she asked, not quite believing him.
"Forever and always," he promised with a kiss to her lips.
She could feel his gaze on her as she walked through the crowd, the words, "Savior!" on each and everyone's lips. Of course, they weren't only shouting at her, but Harry and Ron as well. With the defeat of Voldemort this was the usual greeting they got when they went anywhere in Britian.
Hermione suspected this behavior would only last for a few months. Until they all went back to their own business, as if Voldemort and his followers had never existed.
That no one would care to follow any member of the trio to ambush them and ask for interviews on the final battle or anything else grateful fanatic worshipping people did.
She gazed down at him as she sat in his lap, arms entwined around the back of his neck, giggling as he laid kisses on her bare chest. Her eyelids slid closed as his tongue ran over her left nipple, making a soft sigh slip from her lips as her head fell back.
"Mmm."
When he stopped in his ministrations she opened her eyes, glancing down at him. "Barty?"
His thumb rested over her nipple now, pressing down on the flesh that he was staring so fixadetly at. "Should we get married?"
"What?" Where had this come from?
Barty was silent for a moment, pressing the tip of his thumb right above her nipple before digging the nail into the skin. She gasped aloud when she felt the slight sting, to see a droplet of blood forming on that spot a second later. "Another of your co-workers proposed to you."
Ah, so that's why he had asked.
"No, no. I'm in a relationship already." Hermione fended off one of the latest men that had asked her to marry them or suggested a fling - as if she would ever do such a thing.
"Oh. Okay." The man looked dissapointed when he walked away, much like a kicked puppy, but she was sure it was all an act. He was just one of those people that was attracted to fame, probably because he wanted to be a part of it. She had noticed this formula quite a bit over the past few weeks, so she could tell what they were going to say before a word left their mouthes; allowing her to decline before they even asked.
Though, unlike before she didn't see the same men coming back and asking again. That stubborn persistence seemed to finally be dying out.
She stepped into the house, nudging off one shoe at a time with the heel of her foot. "Barty, I'm home," Hermione called out, locking the door behind her before stepping onto the wood boards with her sock covered feet. "Barty?" she called again, making her way down into the basement where he usually worked. Away from windows and any potential flashing cameras owned by the Daily Prophet.
It was silent when she opened the cellar door, but she could see the flame of a candle further in and stepped forward. Her eyebrow raised when she could feel a liquid soak into her socks. Had one of his experiments gone wrong?
"Hermione," it was just a whisper, but she could hear it in the silence.
"Barty, next time answer when I call," she said as she stepped forward, ignoring the sucking sounds from when she raised her foot to do so. "I thought something had gone wrong..."
The words died on her lips as she could see him now in the candlelight, sitting on the floor against the wall, blood pooling around him. It didn't take her long to figure out that that was why her socks were soaked, why they made those odd sounds as she walked.
Hermione ran towards him, sinking to the floor as she checked for any wounds. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"As long as you're with me." A single arm raised to wrap around her, drawing her close, so her head laid on his shoulder even as her hands continued to move, trying to figure out where all the blood came from.
Her fingers froze a moment later as she looked at what laid across from her. Human bodies, stripped of their skin, some with the bone showing through the muscle. She recognized one of the forms as one of the men she had sent away a day ago, one of those fame seekers.
There was a tingling at the back of her throat and she had to clasp a hand over her mouth to stop from throwing up, understanding his words now. "What have you done?" she muttered from behind her fingers.
Prompt: 33. Psychological
Beyond this prompt this ficlet was also heavily inspired by "What U See (Is What U Get)" by Britney Spears