Chapter 102: Monday, June 24, 2002

"The greatest lesson history books have taught us is fighting the unethical with ethics is stupidity."

-Anupam S Shlok


Despite the mental reprieve that Remus felt leading up to the Full Moon, the Wolfsbane potion didn't quite help the more physical symptoms of being forced to transform into a beast once a month. This week it took every bit of his willpower to keep it situated in his stomach. And when he slept through work at the Ministry this morning, Hermione orchestrated his absence by utilizing the Polyjuice Potion they kept on hand. Neville agreed to work the shift disguised as Remus—or rather, John Hywel—and left Remus to sleep until almost noon.

When he finally roused, his entire body aching and his stomach churning in hot waves, he carefully made his way down to the library. Knowing how pathetic it would sound, he was hoping to find Hermione and convince her to rake her nails through his hair until his pounding headache ceases or until he could fall back asleep—whichever came first.

"Afternoon, sleepy head," Hermione's voice sang from the sofa.

"I could have been anyone," Remus said, folding himself gingerly onto the cushion next to her.

"Bill, Fleur, Tonks and Charlie are all out wrangling Snatchers—the alarm was tripped. Neville is at the Ministry impersonating you. Ron and Luna are with Pansy, Draco and Ginny making rounds at the safe houses and Hogwarts and Harry and Blaise are trimming potions ingredients in the forest. That just left me and you."

Remus pulled a face, "Yeah, I walked in on their 'trimming potions ingredients' the other day. Glad they took it outside this time."

"They didn't," Hermione smirked. "They're in the attic."

"The attic—I have to transform in there tonight! And now it's gonna smell like sex! I swear it's like being back at Hogwarts," Remus groaned, his face scrunching up with distaste.

Hermione burst into laughter, removing the book from her lap and pulling his shoulders toward it, instead. He closed his eyes and blushed a bit at the sound that escaped his throat when she sunk her hands into his hair the moment his head hit her lap.

"It's been a bit, we could cover it with our own," she suggested, blissfully dragging her nails against his scalp.

Remus whined, fully frustrated with the state of his broken body. "I'm not sure I can today, love. I don't think I could hold myself upright."

He cracked an eye open to look up at her as a coy little smirk tugged her lips upward, "Who said anything about you being upright?"

This woman is going to be the end of me, he thought, fondly.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, feeling a steady mix of amusement and the budding of arousal.

"Mhmm," she leaned forward and pressed her lips sweetly against his. "I think I can manage perfectly well without you even having to move from this sofa."

"Is that...is that so?" Remus stammered.

"Mhmm."

"I think," Remus said, straining up to capture her lips again. "We should test that theory."

"I'm glad you think so," she mumbled into his lips.

Kissing Hermione never ceased to amaze him. The way their mouths slotted perfectly together, the warm weight of her tongue on his, it never failed to steal his breath away. He could spend all of eternity just kissing her. But, then again—as she shifted out from under him and climbed over top of him—he would be lying if he said there weren't other things he'd rather spend his time doing with her.

The second her knees fell to either side of his hips, he could feel the heat from between her thighs cutting through the thin fabric of his pyjamas. He felt every bit of blood in his body rush south, the too-short snitch covered pyjama bottoms tightening against him. It never took long for that, with her. Her skin felt soft as silk as her hands cupped his face, sending ripples of electricity straight through him. He could feel his magic thrumming, alive and frenetic beneath her.

A low, growling sound of a groan escaped him as his hips canted upward, begging to release some of the pressure straining in his cock. She responded by rolling her own hips forward, grinding just enough against him to brush the sensitive length. His gasp was swallowed by her mouth as her tongue plunged into his and licked the very praises of this moment from his lips. Remus wriggled his hips beneath her, smiling as she chuckled into his mouth.

Hermione pulled away and looked down at him, her eyes bright and pupils wide. He was certain he looked similar, if not for the fluttering of his eyelids when she reached back and stroked her palm over him. She smirked at the sound it pried from his chest and leaned forward again, this time to draw a stripe up his throat with her tongue that ended with his earlobe clasped between her teeth.

"Hermione," he warned, his hips rolling of their own volition. "You keep that up and I won't—oh, fuck me."

"That's the idea, yes," she giggled, her hand behind her again, shoved under the cotton of his pants.

She wrapped her fingers around him and stroked upward a few times before releasing him and shimmying down to sit at his knees. He pushed up on his elbows, watching intently as she hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled his bottoms down his hips. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she wet her kiss-swollen lips and leaned forward, taking him into her mouth.

"Unghh," he moaned, trying hard not to buck up into the wet heat of her mouth. Her tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and traced the vein that rested there before she pulled away from him.

He almost whined from the loss of contact, a sound that would surely be rather embarrassing. But, she pulled her wand from the back of her trousers and flicked it toward the door. He heard it snap shut and lock click into place before she bundled her hair up and shoved the wand through it to secure it to the top of her head. And while Remus loved the mass of wild curls that tumbled down her back, he was much more interested in seeing her face right now than seeing the curtain of hair.

She took him back into her mouth and he felt himself tighten, almost painfully, as her head bobbed a lewd rhythm over him. His breath sped up, pushed through his nose as he bit hard into his lip, eyes on her movements. His skin felt almost too hot as a shiver of pleasure tore down his spine, making his toes curl and forcing his head to throw backward as a guttural moan escaped him.

He wanted more, to be inside of her, to feel her completely around him, but he couldn't find the words or will to stop the fucking perfect pressure of her lips around his cock. His thighs ached from tightening and she seemed to realize he wouldn't last much longer. Ever-so-slowly, she removed her lips from him and stared up at him through a heavy gaze.

She climbed off his legs and held her hands out, hoisting him up to a sitting position, before wordlessly removing her own trousers and knickers. She kicked them off to the side and climbed into his lap. He leaned forward, unconcerned with the salty taste of himself on her swollen lips and delved into her mouth, swiping his tongue over every ridge of her teeth. His hands traced up her thighs, leaving trails of soft goosebumps behind. She sighed against his lips as his fingertips brushed against her sex and he moaned at the moisture met there. To know he was the cause of her arousal was one of his life's greatest achievements—he was sure of it.

With slow strokes he ran his fingers through her folds. His arm banded around her back, pulling her to his chest, desperate to feel her weight against him. He finally left his hold on her lips and trailed open mouthed kisses down her neck as she arched into his touch. He pressed the pads of his fingers against her clit and circled it gently, closing his eyes as the moans that poured from her throat vibrated against his lips. Teasing his way down to her entrance, he slipped a finger inside of her as he latched to her pulse point, nipping it gently with his teeth.

"Remus," she praised, in a breathy moan that made every single hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. Her nails bit into his shoulders as he pushed another finger in, delighting in the wet, velveteen feel of her. The smell of her. The taste of her skin on his tongue.

God, how he missed this.

She could tell he was close by the grip on his shoulder and the constant melody of moans that she sang. He crooked his fingers up and brushed his thumb against her clit and she shouted out a string of broken obscenities as her back arched and her thighs went rigid. He continued his ministrations, eyes wide in awe as he watched her fall apart in his lap, a sight he would never tire of.

Her hand left his shoulder to clamp onto his wrist, a silent plea for a moment's break. He was painfully hard now, the need to bring himself to climax almost overbearing. Hermione took a few breaths and blinked her eyes, as if pulling herself from the clouds and he couldn't help the smirk that pulled his lips.

"Oh, hush," she rasped, still working to get her breath back to normal.

"I didn't say anything," he innocently whispered.

"You didn't have to, I have eyes that can see that smug look on your face, Remus Lupin."

His laughter was quickly interrupted by her hand wrapping around his cock once more as she adjusted herself above him, lining him up with her entrance before sinking down. The sound that vibrated in his chest was low and needy and his fingers dug into her hips, steadying them both. After a beat, she began to move and it was pure bliss.

The little sounds that escaped her as she ground down onto him, fueled his own symphony of obscenities and desperate babbling. Remus was deafened of anything but his name falling from her lips and the buzz of their magic rejoicing in the connection. He fleetingly wondered why on earth he ever stood against marking her. Had he known it would be like this, he would have—

"Remus," she cried, both arms wrapping around his neck, forcing his face to her breasts.

"Off, take this off," Remus begged, pulling at the hem of her shirt.

She stilled, yanking the fabric over her head, knocking her wand from her hair in the process. He bit into his lip, stifling a groan as he watched her hair tumble down her back. Remus surged forward, lavishing the soft skin of her breasts with open mouthed kisses as she resumed the rocking of her hips.

He could tell she was becoming exhausted and he took liberty to buck into her from beneath, his eyes slamming shut as the increased speed caused her fingernails to cut into the tops of his shoulders. She was incoherent, crying breathy pleas to a God he knew she didn't believe in. Begging him to not stop—never stop—and latching onto his pulsepoint with nipping kisses that set his skin on fire. Finally, he fell from the razor's edge he'd been teetering, with a shout and a growl. He clung to her, both arms wrapped firmly around her middle and his forehead pressed to her chest.

Several minutes of near quiet occupied the library as they came down from the post-climax high, regaining some semblance of working breath. Remus thought that if he were to die right here, right now, surrounded by the smell of sex with Hermione wrapped around him, he would die a happier man than anyone he had ever known.


Regardless of the lovely early afternoon they had spent together, Hermione felt uneasy.

Hours had passed since Fleur, Bill, Charlie, and Tonks had left to check the traps that were set and with each minute closer to the full moon, Remus was becoming more and more agitated.

"Something's wrong," Remus implored, once again. "I can feel it."

"We shouldn't worry until we're given reason to," Ginny reasoned.

"Easy for you to say," Pansy hissed. "It wasn't your boyfriend that was captured last, was it?"

Ginny stared at Pansy, defiant, before having the sense to sigh and shake her head. "No. No, it wasn't. But, two of my brothers are out there as well as my sister in law and my-maybe-one-day-sister in law. I think I can make the call on whether or not I should be worried."

"Ginny's right," Harry said. "It's a bit of a trip out to...which trap was it?" He looked to Hermione.

"Leeds."

"Leeds," Harry nodded. "Not exactly the Highlands, is it? Maybe they were tripped and they're resetting them and stopped at a pub or something—"

"They're here," Remus interrupted, his head cocked to one side as if listening beyond the creaking of the wind against the Shack. "They're coming up the back."

"Super hearing, but I'm not allowed to make dog jokes," Draco grumbled, under his breath with an eye roll.

"It's the full tonight, Malfoy, you'd better watch your tongue," Ron chided.

Remus ignored the squabbling and turned toward Hermione, his eyes swimming with gold. "There's two others with them."

"Is it…?" Pansy trailed off, trying to hide the pinprick of optimism shining in her voice.

"No, no it's not Pansy, I'm sorry." Remus said, "I think they've been silenced, but there's definitely two. I can hear the difference in the footfalls. Why would they bring them back here?"

"Dunno," Ron shrugged. "But, Bill and Tonks aren't stupid when it comes to Dark wizards. They aren't going to do anything to jeopardize us."

"Bringing Death Eaters to our main headquarters feels rather foolish," Draco said.

"OI! You lot!" Charlie's voice boomed from the entrance below as the door banged open, "Can we get some help here?"

Hermione, Harry, and Remus jumped to their feet immediately, nearly flying out the door and down the stairs. Hermione rushed forward the moment her eyes landed on Fleur—her silvery hair drenched red with blood.

"Accio medibag," Hermione summoned the bag, catching it as it flew down the stairs and into her hand.

"Only a flesh wound. I was knocked backward and hit my head on a rock," Fleur explained upon seeing Hermione's urgency.

She ushered Fleur into a nearby chair and began to work instantly on cleaning the wound. She used her wand to clean the blood from Fleur's hair and dug into the bag for a healing salve and a mild pain tonic. Hermione began to dab the salve onto the wound on the crown of Fleur's head, her mouth pursed in concentration.

"Is that...Stephen Cornfoot?" Harry asked, pointing to one of the men in dark robes who was blindfolded and bound at the wrists to another snatcher.

Hermione looked up, her fingers covered in thick goop, and scanned the man in question. He was rather short, with a round face and straight, straw coloured hair that hung limply over his forehead. But, Harry was right. It was definitely the Ravenclaw they had gone through their years at Hogwarts with.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed. "Yes, it looks as if it is."

"Doesn't matter who they are," Tonks said, falling into the chair beside Fleur. "They put up a nasty fight. I think they know more than they're letting on."

"We wanted to have a little chat with them," Bill explained, his voice low and dangerous. Hermione did not miss the way his fingers dug into the unnamed man's neck. She assumed he was the one who injured Fleur and Bill was not going to let him walk away unscathed.

"Someplace we can take them?" Charlie asked.

"The attic—"

"No," Hermione cut over Harry, vanishing the ointment from her hands. "No. We can't leave them up there tonight."

Something knowing flashed in Bill's eyes and a rather terrifying smirk tugged his mouth.

"I haven't forgotten what day it is, if that's what you're worried about. I don't have the luxury of forgetting, thanks to scum like this." He gave the man a hard shake and turned his head toward the light, the orange glow violent against the deep red scarring of his face.

"What say you?" Bill asked, his questioning stare locked on Remus.

Hermione's eyes flitted to Remus and she watched him, unsure of how he may react. On one hand, she knew he would love nothing more than to chat with Death Eaters who had taken one of their own. On the other, Remus wasn't known for being a particularly violent person. Sure, she had seen him duel fiercely and take down opponents. She knew of some of the horrible things he had done while living amongst werewolves to establish allegiance to them, but this may be taking it a step far.

He looked between Bill and Hermione, his face frustratingly blank. Slowly, he tore his gaze from her, his jaw clenched as he gave a stiff nod in Bill's direction.

"Yeah."

Hermione's heart sank.

"I'll come with you," she said, closing up her bag.

"No, I don't think—"

"I'm coming," she repeated.

If they were going to question a couple of low level Death Eaters, she wanted to make sure nothing got out of hand. She could tell by the gold blazing in Remus' eyes and the malicious glint to Bill's, it was too close to moonrise for either of them to be clear headed. She wouldn't have them doing something they may regret in the light of tomorrow morning.

She crossed her arms over her chest, resolute, staring at the men—daring them to challenge her.

Finally, Charlie laughed, "Alright then, probably not a bad idea to have a healer nearby."

Hermione followed the small group into the basement of the Shack and through the trap door that led to the winding path beneath the Whomping Willow. It was cramped and dank, but Bill set to work putting a few heavy charms in place to ensure the area would not be disturbed. The Shack was protected, of course, by Hogwarts wards and there were very specific places that one would have to apparate to in order to access it via apparition, but for good measure, Harry stayed behind and ensured apparition was not an option.

Once the wards had been set and the trap door secured, Bill and Charlie shoved the men onto their bottoms and vanished their blindfolds, taking with it whatever spell they had used to muffle their hearing.

"Wotcher," Tonks said to the men, grinding the toe of her boots into the dirt.

"You've made a mistake," Stephen Cornfoot said, his voice shaky and pleading.

"No, mate, I don't think we have," Charlie said. "You see, my brother here—" he clapped Bill on the shoulder "—Is rather talented when it comes to weaving all sorts of spells together. And that boundary you walked into was tuned special for dickheads with that mark you have on your arm."

Hermione leaned against the dirt wall of the tunnel, her arms and ankles crossed as she took in the scene. Charlie continued waxing on about exactly how the Order knew the Death Eaters were exactly the people they claimed not to be as Bill stood looking mutinous, staring at the man with dark hair who had dared to injure Fleur.

"They're Weasley's," the dark haired one said. "Potter's here."

"Potter isn't going to save you," Bill laughed. "Besides, that was more Voldemort's schtick, wasn't it? Dolohov doesn't seem to care much who he kills, as long as it keeps him at the top."

"Pretty price on Potter's head, though."

Hermione felt a wave of fury roll through her. A fierce, deep-rooted, need to protect her best friend seeping through the cool and collected mindset she was in. It wouldn't do for her to lose her temper, not this close to moonrise while Bill and Remus stood seething in the corner.

"Where's Justin?" Hermione quietly asked, wanting to get this over with.

Stephen's eyes left Bill and floated to where she stood, widening with recognition. "H-hermione Granger?" he stammered.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," Hermione continued. "You knew him, were friends with him at some point, I believe. He was taken six weeks ago. Where is he, Stephen?"

"I-I-I don't know. We don't know anything!"

Bill tutted and shook his head. He stepped forward and grabbed a fistful of Stephen's hair, pulling his head back to look down directly at him.

"Not really the answer we're hoping for, you understand?"

"We just round up mud—muggleborns! We don't know about anything else!"

Remus flinched at the almost-slip-of-tongue, his jaw tightening further. Hermione kept her eyes on him for several long minutes as Bill continued to put the fear of God into the snatchers through snarled insults and terrifying threats. Her attention was brought back to the scene when she heard a snapping sound and looked to see that Charlie had snapped one of their wands in half.

It was the dark-haired man's wand, and he shouted a thread of obscenity laced insults as he struggled against his constraints, trying to get to his feet.

"You won't be going anywhere," Tonks said, simply.

She stepped forward and struck the man in the face, the rings on her hand leaving a cut across his cheek.

Realistically, Hermione knew that The Order was not innocent when it came to capture. Over the years since the Battle in 1998, they had managed to apprehend at least a dozen Death Eaters, all of which mysteriously seemed to disappear at the hands of Bill and Tonks. Charlie, when he was not in Romania, was always involved, and Harry, Ron, and Draco had done their fair share as well. She was not ignorant to the fact that these people were probably killed for whatever knowledge they had provided.

She had never understood the fear of The Order. The Death Eaters truly seemed to understand their resistance was a force to be reckoned with. Rarely was there an ambush where The Order wasn't outnumbered and, she assumed, it was their fear that led to that strategy. It wasn't until now, as she watched Bill turn his wand on the unnamed man, did she understand how truly terrifying he looked.

"Two hours," Remus mumbled, golden eyes still locked on the display before him.

Bill and Charlie both smiled.

"There are ways to get you to talk," Bill mused. "Veritaserum is a no go, don't worry. We've got it on good authority that they make sure you know how to get around that. We could always use the Cruciatus…" he trailed off and stared intently at the men, watching as fear flickered across their faces "but, that's certainly more your style, isn't it?"

The silence was heavy, only the rattling of fearful breath coming from their captives audible.

"No...that type of torture isn't really effective once you've wiped the drool from your chin," Bill continued. "No, you see, we like to be a bit more creative than that."

He lowered himself to their level and ran a finger along the side of his face, "See these here?" He grabbed the dark haired Death Eater's chin and forced him to look at his face. The man's brows pulled together in confusion as his eyes rested on the long, gnarled scar tissue.

"What house did you belong to?" Bill suddenly questioned, dropping the Death Eater's chin.

Neither of the men spoke.

Tonks sighed, skipping up to stand next to Bill, looking as if she were enjoying every second thoroughly. Hermione had the sick twist in her gut—the realization that the Black family blood still pulsed in Nymphadora Tonks' veins. And regardless of the kindness Hermione knew was capable of at least three members of the sinister family, she had known each of them to have their own fearsome quirks. She supposed Tonks would be no different. Afterall, she had been an Auror—once upon a time—and Mad Eye Moody had seemed to delight in inflicting pain against Dark Wizards as well. Personality trait of the job, she concluded.

"You were asked a question," Tonks pointed out. "And instead of wasting time, it would be in your best interest to answer."

"Ravenclaw," Stephen ground out. "I...I was in Ravenclaw."

"And you?" she looked to Stephen's right.

"Gryffindor."

Charlie barked a laugh, "Daring enough to fire a curse at French Dueller, I'd say your qualities were horribly misplaced, mate."

"We can't all be blood-traitors and mudblood fucking halfbreeds."

"Funny, you should use the term halfbreed," Bill chuckled. "Especially roaming around the woods on a day like today. How about you, Ravenclaw? Did you keep up in your Astronomy lessons?"

Stephen's brow creased momentarily before his mouth dropped open, "Werewolves."

Bill tapped his own nose twice, "There, you've got it. Luckily, for you, I am not a full werewolf. You see, I was mauled but it was out of cycle, not unlike what that little potion you keep to feed the creatures you enslave does."

"They can't turn anyone out of cycle," Stephen said, in a rush. "The potion doesn't work like that. It doesn't! They can't—"

"Good to know," Bill smirked. "However, unlucky for you, I am not the only person here who has been at the receiving end of Greyback's attacks."

Remus took this as his cue and he stepped forward, crouching down beside Bill to stare the men in the face. His eyes caught the low light that glimmered in the tunnel and the flash of golden, not-quite-human irises sent a chill through Hermione's spine. She felt queasy.

"You have one and a half hours before I transform and rip your fucking throats out," Remus stated, simply.

The low, menacing tone to his voice was foreign to Hermione's ears. She had always struggled to see Remus—her Remus, who wore mis-matched argyle socks and drank Earl Grey and wrapped flocks of perished birds in his own jumper to bury—as the horrifying Dark Creature he warned her against. When she thought of dangerous werewolves, her mind instantly flickered to the image of long, sharp nails and pointed teeth attached to the hulking figure of Fenrir Greyback. The stench of blood and dirt that rolled off of him was forever ingrained in her memory. She had never been able to see Remus in the same category.

Until now.

Hermione could see the rapid chest falls of the bound men, could feel the fear that sank into their very being. Her mind was reeling. Surely, Remus wouldn't transform down here, wouldn't make good on the promise to tear them limb for limb if they refused to talk. He had taken all doses of his Wolfsbane Potion this week, hadn't he? Just as she shuffled forward, trying to think of a reason to pull Remus from a situation she knew he'd likely regret, Stephen spoke.

"Rowle's keep," he croaked.

"Shut up," the other man hissed.

"Rowle's keep?" Tonks prodded," What's Rowle's keep?"

"Don't say another fucking word, Cornfoot. You'll get us killed."

"If we do, they might let us live," Stephen mumbled, his eyes still locked on the cold, golden stare of Remus. "If we don't, and we get turned, Dolohov will have us killed either way."

"Clever lad," Charlie said. "Ravenclaw suited you well."

"Rowle's Keep is Thorfinn Rowle's estate. It's where they take nearly everyone they capture. I don't think it's really their headquarters, but it's a hub of sorts," he finally turned his eyes away from Remus, looking at Hermione. "Justin is alive there, at least he was yesterday. Not in a good state, but he's breathing."

"Where is it?" Remus hissed.

"I can't—if I could tell you, I swear, I would. I can't…" He hissed in pain, writhing against the bonds and Hermione recognized the signs of the promise he had made, warning him he was letting too much information through.

"You took a Vow," Tonks and Hermione said in unison.

Stephen nodded, "I can't tell you where it's located. I-I'm sorry."

"Shame," Bill sighed. He pointed his wand directly between Stephen's eyes. "Obliviate."

"You can't! He helped you! He told you—"

"Obliviate."

Both men slumped over and Bill looked at Remus, clapping him on the shoulder. "Thanks, mate. The gold eyes are a lot more convincing I think," he chuckled.

"What will you do with them?" Remus asked, standing up and then wincing when the top of his head hit the dirt ceiling. He hunched his shoulders forward again and leaned on the wall opposite Hermione.

"Snap this one's wand," Tonks said, nudging Stephen with her foot. "And then drop them in Muggle London somewhere."

"We'll set them up with some documents and a bit of money. Dump them outside the entrance to a hospital or a police station. They won't have any recollection of the magical world at all," Bill said.

Remus nodded, an indecipherable look on his face as his eyes found Hermione's.

.


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a/n: So, if you're in my FB group (Mimifreed Writing) then you already know this, but after this week I will be taking updates down to Saturday only for a few weeks. Real Life has been absolutely insane and draining and because of that, my ability to write anything has been sucked dry. I'm finally getting back into the swing of it, however, so I'm cutting down to once weekly updates until I can build my back-up chapter cache back to where I'm comfortable with multiple times a week.

I'm sorry! I love you guys so much, and honestly, your lovely comments and wonderful reviews have really helped me keep my shit together the last couple months. So, thank you for that!

xo