November 11th, 2005
Outside Azkaban
The water hits him from all sides. It's pouring down and he can't see a thing because of the moonless night. Murmuring a few spells - one to keep the water from drenching his clothes and one for the freezing cold - he finally can see two Aurors at the entrance of Azkaban.
Even if the prison is in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by sea, Harry found a way of hiding in plain sight with a charm. So far the Aurors haven't seen him at the edge of the platform, but even if they had… he's an Auror. He can say he's there to oversee the transference.
It's the first time he's setting his own eyes on Azkaban. It looks pretty imposing and he can feel the strange air around it, probably because of the Dementors. And it makes him even angrier. To imagine mother and daughter enclosed inside just because they were easy targets in a society which condemns something you can't change is too much for him. He still remembers Hannah's fear when she told them she wanted to go to Hogwarts…
She admired Hermione. He shakes his head. This isn't right, he can't let these two die, it would be too much of a burden. He still has no idea how he's saving them since he just decided he's doing this, but no matter, he'll plan as he goes.
Glancing at his watch he realizes the hour is close. It's almost midnight and the Aurors and prisoners should appear any minute now. His face is all covered with a mask, the only exception: his eyes. He transfigured their color because their natural emerald is too remarkable and if someone sees, it'll be his end. Inevitably, when he was doing it, he thought of the chocolate ones from the Head Auror and he's sure his are matching hers now.
Pressing his lips together, he tries to move as little as possible while he waits. He's not too close to the entrance, keeping a safe distance from the two Aurors, but still close enough to mess up his illusion charm if he's not careful. There's a man and a woman and they're talking and laughing, not caring at all with the rain or the transference that's about to happen.
He can't see the interior of the prison as it is just a big black block. He imagines these two are in front of the door and he bets that if he gets closer, he'll be able to see its shape. But he does nothing. He waits.
Not too long, though. Suddenly, at the far end of the block aisle, mother and daughter appear with three Aurors. Harry grits his teeth. One of them is Pettigrew. And at total they're five. He taps his wand on his thigh, not happy. He plans his next move.
Five against one is… bad. And he half planned to apparate to his flat tagging the two women along. He wonders if he'll be able to do it now. Will he even get a chance of knocking out the other Aurors and getting to them before they find out who he is? He groans internally. He should have already eliminated the two Aurors at the entrance… or maybe not, Pettigrew would retreat, knowing something was off.
He watches as the two Aurors leave the entrance and walk to the arriving team. Chewing the insides of his cheeks he decides he needs to be fast. It's his only chance. It's also imperial no one takes his wand or else they'll trace it back to him. Combat? He sure wants to punch Pettigrew. Tilting his head to himself, he agrees on these terms… which aren't much, but whenever he gets into a fight, is more instinct than planning, so, he's in familiar ground.
Taking a deep breath he prepares to run to them, the first one he needs to take out is Pettigrew, he's by far the most experienced and threatening one. But just before he takes the first step, his heart pounding inside his chest, he wonders if he should. If they get me… it's all over. Is it worth it? He looks down. It is.
He runs. The aisle is long and wide, and the Aurors are talking, standing on the middle of it. He hopes his charm doesn't fail and-
He stops, stunned.
In one motion, the two Aurors from the entrance are swept away by an incredible force that Harry is sure was a spell coming from their left. Both Aurors fly back to the entrance and fall on the ground. The other three Aurors are already shielding the prisoners and raising their wands. He runs even faster. He has no idea what happened, but it's his best chance.
Pettigrew is yelling orders and looking everywhere. While he approaches Pettigrew, Harry decides to bind the other two with a spell and swiftly, he does it. The two Aurors tumble back, not understanding why there are ropes on their legs, and Harry uses the moment to - with immense satisfaction - deliver a strong punch to Pettigrew's face.
He watches in delight while the man stumbles and yells, furious. Harry advances, moving with quick legs and expertise at these kind of hand in hand combats. He punches Pettigrew's side while the man utters spells aimlessly, then he punches his other side and stomach. He realizes he could punch this git all night, but when Pettigrew falls with his back hitting the floor, Harry's attention goes to the prisoners and his eyes catch the other Aurors fighting an invisible enemy. Who is it? They seem to be fighting at least two other people, by the looks of the spells - and Harry is deadly curious-
A spell hits him hard, and he falls back, sure that his charm is gone and now anyone can see him. But he doesn't care, he's burning on the inside, everything hurts and a thousand knives are cutting through his flesh and bones, taking his breath away and making his heart beat as fast as possible as he tries to stop this terrible feeling. Pettigrew hit him with a fucking Cruciatus. He grits his teeth, trying his best to stop shaking and hitting the ground. He needs to stand, he needs to put distance between him and the Auror or else he's doomed.
With incredible effort, he opens an eye and sees Pettigrew standing slowly, cursing and holding his stomach. It was a great punch - he vaguely thinks as he tries crawling away. The pain is unbearable. He remembers his grandfather tried to train him on this, tried to teach him how to resist this curse, but it was too cruel, too ruthless and his mother stepped in and said he was going too far and she wouldn't accept that. Harry was only eleven.
And now he feels the scream ripping out from his throat, raw and visceral.
But suddenly the pain stops.
Pretty fast there's a hand helping him up and he stands just at the moment Pettigrew is throwing another spell his way, but a powerful shield comes up around him. Harry blinks. Whoever is there, is also protecting him. In a second he notices the two other Aurors are down and mother and daughter are crouched together, crying, but waiting.
There's only Pettigrew now and Harry is furious. Without thinking he goes to the other man and with a yell he physically deviates his next spell. He shoves the man with a shoulder and then he grabs Pettigrew's arm and twists it behind his back, forcing him to release the wand. Pettigrew grunts in pain and Harry twists his arm harder. With the wand on the floor, he doesn't resist the impulse of breaking it in two with his foot. The cracking sound is satisfying.
"NO!" Pettigrew yells. Harry knocks him out with a punch and throws him to the ground.
Exhaling heavily and supporting himself with both hands on his knees, he stops for a moment. The rain washing away some blood from his nose. His whole body hurts, his muscles sore, his only wish is to lie down, but he still needs to save them. He walks there and crouches in front of mother and daughter.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, I won't hurt you."
Lucinda widens her eyes. She probably recognizes his voice, but she says nothing.
"And what's your plan exactly?"
He jumps in place.
There's someone else there by his side and when he turns his head he can see… her. It's Hermione. She's also disguised but he's sure it's her. There's no doubt in his mind. He would recognize her eyes anywhere. He opens and closes his mouth. Dumbfounded.
"Cat got your tongue?" She asks and he can hear the soft chuckle in her tone. His heart swells. Hermione also recognized him, of course she did. "Do you have a fucking plan or not?"
"I was thinking about taking them to my place-"
"No. No way, are you nuts?" She shakes her head. She turns to mother and daughter. "Listen to me, I have a Portkey that can take you out of England. You have to go and save yourselves, do you understand? Start your lives elsewhere, okay?"
Lucinda nods while she holds a sobbing Hannah. "Okay, okay." They stand together and Hermione takes an yellow rubber duck from her pocket. Harry tilts his head and she shrugs. She gives them the Portkey.
"It will be activated in twenty seconds." She says.
Lucinda takes their hands. "Thank you. I'll never forget this."
In a blink they're gone. Harry can't believe he did it… with Hermione. He turns to her and when he does his heart stops.
It happens fast. So fast. Pettigrew is coming from behind and he grabs Hermione by the waist, pulling her to him and - Harry sees with terror - stabbing her middle with a knife.
NO. He takes his wand, blood is already oozing out of her and she's grunting in pain. Pettigrew raises the knife and slashes her leg, from the hipbone to the knee. She yells and elbows him back and Harry takes the moment to Stupefy the man. Pettigrew flies through the aisle hitting the ground at the far end. Harry accio the knife and runs to Hermione on the floor.
She's holding her middle. "I need to take you to St. Mungo's." He says, his voice shaky, his hands trembling as he tries pressing the wound. He feels weak at the sight of so much blood. It's her blood, it's-
She shakes her head. "You can't. They can't know." She's having a hard time talking and he fully sits on the ground, bringing her body to his, cradling her.
"Shit. Shit."
"You need to save me."
"I- I suck at healing, I-"
He's stuttering, desperate. And he has no idea if it's the rain or if his own tears are wetting his face. He had training on healing, but it's like he can't think properly now.
"Pull yourself together and save me, D'Angelo. I'm your boss, obey me." She looks up at him and he sees the resolve in her eyes. She would do it herself if she had the strength to.
"Okay, okay." He lets out a deep breath and apparates them to his flat.
They land on the carpet still in the same position they were at the cold floor in front of Azkaban. But the rain and the darkness are gone and Harry can see exactly how bad it looks. He pulls his mask off and hers too. She makes a pained face and he gently lays her on the floor.
He conjures up a pillow for her head and, by her side, on his knees, he leans to her. "Stay with me, Hermione. Talk to me. Tell me a story or whatever." He knows how important it is for her to stay awake and she groans in response.
Harry raises her black shirt and winces at the sight of the wound. It's bad. There's a lot of blood. It's pretty close to her belly button, at the middle on her right side. "You're not going to faint, are you, Harry? I mean-" She coughs, scrunching her whole face, "You look so pale."
He chews the insides of his cheeks madly, hurting himself, tasting his own blood. They're drenching the floor with water and blood. "I'm just nervous thinking about what I'm going to say if they find the Head Auror dead inside my flat." He tries cracking a joke and she laughs with difficulty.
"It won't look good." She narrows her eyes to him. "You have to magically stitch it."
He presses his lips together. "I know." And he hates it. He's terrible at this. But he takes his wand and before uttering the spell, he gently feels the wound, pressing his fingers against her warm skin.
"What are you doing?"
"It's the way I do it, I have to feel it first, have an idea in my mind of what exactly I'm stitching." He says in a low voice.
"Sure. Take your time, after all is not like I'm dying here."
"Don't say that." His tone is serious.
He closes his eyes, his hand on her stomach. With his other hand he raises his wand and starts uttering the spell. Hermione groans. He knows how painful this is. And it takes time, stitch by stitch he puts her insides back together, healing. The blood starts to lessen and she holds his wrist, their eyes locked.
They share something intense.
Since they met they've been protecting each other without a second thought and he has no idea why, but he knows he fears for her, he cares. She seems to be saying the same things to him, her hand going up from his wrist to his elbow, as if asking him to move closer. And he does. He leans and they touch their foreheads, their eyes closed, their hearts beating fast. Harry can feel a strange connection to her, a powerful emotion.
He gasps when the stitching ends and she sighs. He leans back and, pulling his hand, he observes the scar on her stomach. He makes a face. "It looks like a lightning."
She shakes her head and snorts. He can tell she's feeling better but… there's still blood oozing out of the nasty gash on her leg. Without thinking Harry moves and tears apart the fabric of her black trousers with his bare hands. Hermione opens her mouth, shocked. But he's not thinking about the fact that she's almost half naked in front of him. He inhales sharply at the gash.
"That fucking bastard. I should have killed him." He says more to himself than to her, but she blinks at him, surprised.
His hand is already tracing the length of her leg, from her hipbone to her knee, feeling the gash. It's not deep. Hermione leans back on the pillow, exhaling, her forearm on her forehead. And inevitably he notices how his touch makes her skin react. There are goosebumps all over her leg and stomach and arms. He knows the moment isn't proper, but he blushes a bit when he realizes what he did to her trousers. He can actually see a fraction of her tiny black underwear. Flustered, he starts murmuring the stitching spell, trying his best to leave a thin scar.
This time she doesn't turn to him, but he can tell the moment is just as intimate as before. He wets his lips, the silence is oppressing and he decides breaking it.
"You were there." He states. "To save them."
She turns to him. "I guess I wouldn't sleep well if I didn't." She says back his words and he looks down.
"I was a jerk-"
"You were right." Hermione sighs. "I may think she's hiding something, but it doesn't change the fact that they were blackmailed and she was just trying to protect her daughter… how that can make her a bad person?" Her voice is low. "And I had a feeling you would do something stupid."
He chuckles. "There's no way you knew I was going to be there."
"Please, Harry, you're like an open book."
He opens his mouth. He remembers thinking the same about her. He looks at her leg. The gash is huge so it's taking forever. At least a hundred stitches.
"I'm glad you were there, though." He says sincerely. "To be honest I hadn't planned it very well."
"Is that so?" She mocks him. "When you said you were bringing them here, I figured."
"I don't think I could have done it alone. I mean, I decided at the last minute and I was swinging it as it happened."
She truly laughs now. "I should reconsider your position as Auror." He laughs with her, sincerely. "You took the knife." She states.
"Yes. It had your blood. He could trace it back to you."
She nods. "I shouldn't reconsider your position as Auror, then." They share a loud laugh and when it subsides, she lets out a heavy breath when their eyes meet. "Your eyes. They look like mine."
He blinks. "They do?" He shrugs. "I had to disguise them somehow, I mean-"
"They're truly unique." She clears her throat. "The true color of your eyes. They're beautiful." She whispers the last words.
He feels an impulse to kiss her, but he stops himself and she averts her eyes.
The wound is finally closed and Harry exhales, exhausted. Everything hurts. But he traces a finger on the thin and almost imperceptible scar on her leg. From her knee to her hipbone, slowly. Her eyes go back to his and she gulps, the goosebumps back on her skin. And now that she's fine, he shamelessly lets his eyes wander to her figure. To her firm stomach and then long leg.
"Harry." He can't tell if it sounds like a warn or a plea.
He closes his eyes.
If he gives in to his desire and kiss her, it will mess up with his revenge. He knows.
If he stops himself, he can still keep a safe distance between both…
His life-time revenge or… an attraction?
He removes his hand and stands. But he moves too fast and feels dizzy, wavering in place. She groans and stands too. "You're too weak, you idiot." He feels her hands on his arms as she steers him to the couch, helping him sit. "You just did a great deal of healing and you were already drained from the Cruciatus." One of her hands goes through his hair and he almost moans in satisfaction, her nails scrapping his scalp. He opens his eyes. She's close.
Instinctively he pulls her to him by the waist and she stands between his legs. He knows he can't cross a line with her, but being this close makes it almost impossible. And sometimes is exhausting resisting it. Harry sets his jaw. Her other hand go through his hair and he marvels at her caress. "So," Her voice is low, "Did Sally teach you the waltz?"
He raises an eyebrow at that, his hands still on her waist, hers caressing his hair. There's a hint of playfulness in her eyes. He opens a tiny smile. "She did. She's pretty good at it."
Hermione scrunches her nose. "It's not that hard."
His smile gets wider. Is she… jealous? "But to be honest… I don't think our Patronus like each other very much." He says in a whisper.
She moves even closer to him. "Yeah? What's your Patronus, Harry?"
He's tempted to reveal the truth of his Patronus, but he says, "It's a lion." Her hands stop on his hair.
"A lion?" She sounds truly amazed. "He must be beautiful. But I can see why it doesn't match Sally's." She tilts her head and her hands move again, her fingers relaxing him as they move to his nape and them back up. Down and back up.
Shit.
He wants her.
It's a terrible realization, but one he's been denying since he found out her name. She leans closer, her mouth on his ear. "There are only a few animals who can defeat a lion, you know?" He nods and moves back to look into her eyes.
"I know. One fatal bite from a serpent can kill him in seconds."
She opens a side smile. And moves away from him. He immediately misses her presence.
"I should go." She says.
"No. You're too weak to apparate. You can sleep here, there's no problem."
And suddenly he remembers they're at his flat. His eyes go to the wall that holds all his plans of revenge and he's glad he concealed it before leaving. She narrows her eyes at him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. You lost too much blood." He stands from the couch. "I mean, we're both weak and we shouldn't spend this night alone, what if we need more healing?" She nods. "I can transfigure this couch into a bed." He moves his wand and the couch is suddenly a huge and comfy bed with clean sheets. He opens his arms, demonstrating his abilities and she chuckles.
"Nice. Is there a bathroom I can use? I mean, I really need a shower."
For the first time since they got there, he notices that they're covered in her dry blood. And he's glad his flat has two bathrooms, he also needs a cold shower. "Yeah, yeah, sure." He moves to show it to her and Hermione thanks him before disappearing inside and closing the door.
He immediately goes to his own bathroom and removes his clothes, ending the charm on his eyes and scrubbing himself with force while the water hits him. Her blood is all over his arms and he watches it going down the drain. Why do I care? Why do I want to protect her so badly? He leans on the tiles and presses both hands to his eyes. The only reason - apart from the fact that she's Tom Riddle's daughter - he had to hate her - arresting mother and daughter and sentencing them to a Dementor's kiss - is gone. She actually helped him save them.
Does her father have any idea? He wonders if this was the first time she did something like that and analyzing her calm and planning during all of it… he's sure it wasn't.
Turning off the water, he slowly dries himself. Who is Hermione? When he thinks he knows, she surprises him and proves all his theories were wrong. He keeps repeating she's a Riddle to convince himself, but maybe this apple actually fell very far from the tree…
"Harry?" He frowns. Wrapping the towel around his waist he exits the bathroom and finds a towel wrapped - naked under it - Hermione standing in the middle of his room. She opens and closes her mouth at the sight of him and his ego gets a tad bigger at the way her eyes devour his torso. But she masks it pretty fast, clearing her throat, "Do you have any clothes I can sleep on?"
He blinks. "Sure." Walking to a drawer - and very aware of her eyes on him - he decides lending her the only pj's he has and never uses - he always sleeps with a t-shirt and boxers. She takes the pj's - comfy pants and a t-shirt - and clicks her tongue. She doesn't move out and he tilts his head, opening a tiny smile. "Checking me out, Head Auror?"
"Maybe." She winks and finally walks out of the room, not before saying, "Looking good, D'Angelo."
He chuckles alone in his room. Blushing. For fuck's sake.
He opens his eyes. His room is dark and chilly. Harry frowns. He was so exhausted he thought he would sleep the whole night but-
A scream comes from the living room and he stands in such a hurry that his feet tangle on the sheet and he falls to the floor, hitting his knees. "Cazzo." Another scream makes him widen his eyes and move faster.
Hermione is trashing on the bed, sweating and mumbling incoherent things. He immediately sits by her side, his hands on her shoulders, "Hey, Hermione." She shakes her head from one side to the other, "Wake up, it's just a nightmare."
"No, no, please, no." He understands these few words and frowns.
Moving a hand to her nape, he cups her cheek and leans closer, bringing her to his arms in a protective way. "I'm here. It's fine. Wake up, Hermione." He keeps calling to her and is surprised by her strength while she tries freeing herself form his arms, yelling in a painful way. He bites down his lower lip, nervous. What's she dreaming about?
Only after minutes she relaxes in his embrace, her arms coming up and closing around his middle, bringing him closer while she inhales deeply against his chest. He rests his chin on her head, one of his hands going up and down her back in a soothing way. Tenderly they stay that way. Harry feels… safe. Which makes him raise an eyebrow in question. He barely remembers the last time he felt like this, maybe before his grandfather and mother told him about his parents... maybe with-
"That was embarrassing." She mumbles.
He snorts. "Not at all. We're all entitled to have nightmares."
She moves away from him and he wished he could keep her in his arms. "Thank you." Her voice is soft.
"No problem. Feeling better?" She nods. He should go back to his room, but he stays there. Watching her. "Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really." She says sharply.
He raises his hands in the air and moves to stand, but she holds him there, her hand on his thigh. Without voicing it, Hermione leans back on the bed and lies on her side, she pulls him and Harry understands what she wants. He lies by her side, at a safe distance, and with his belly up, moving both hands to the back of his head. She exhales heavily.
Harry closes his eyes, sleep claiming him back to its blissful and wonderful land, but her voice comes to him and he opens them.
"I hate sleeping alone." He turns to look at her, their eyes meet. "Usually Asmo is with me and I sleep all night, but whenever I'm alone… terrible things invade my mind and-" She closes her eyes, shaking her head. Harry sees a tear running down her cheek.
He doesn't move. Or talk. Hermione needs a listener and he watches the ceiling while she pulls herself together.
He closes his eyes again, shit, I'm exhausted. He's sure he sleeps, but he wakes when she moves closer. They're not touching but he can feel the heat of her body. She's still awake.
"I'm sorry. It's pretty hard getting back to sleep after these… episodes."
"No problem." His voice is deep and low. "Does this happen often?"
"Not so much anymore… when I was a child I- my parents had to practically drug me. I barely slept."
He can feel the pain in her voice and he resists the impulse of hugging her. "That must have been hard."
"It was. But after… when I started sleeping with my boyfriends, I realized it was pretty easy relaxing knowing that there was someone else there with me. Now, with Asmo, there's barely a night I sleep alone. And when it happens I usually take a potion."
Harry presses his lips together. Something clawing at his heart. "Are you getting married?" He asks gently. He wants to know why she's still single at twenty-six. Most women at twenty-one - Sally's age - are already married or getting married.
"I think so." She sighs. "I know you're curious about it." She says without accusing him. "Most people are when they notice my age."
"So, are you telling me or do I have to guess?" She chuckles and he feels good about distracting her from the nightmare.
"My… father never thought any of my boyfriends worthy enough of our family. Asmo is probably the only one he sort of approves. And in arranged marriages… if my father doesn't accept my fiance, there's no way of arguing, the last word is his." She abruptly stops talking and brings her knees closer to her chest.
"That's…" He trails, lacking a word.
"Fucked up." She completes for him. "Asmo hasn't proposed yet, but I'm sure my father will accept when he does." Harry chews the insides of his cheeks. "But-"
"What?"
"I shouldn't say this." She shakes her head. And apparently decides she wants to say, regardless, "Sometimes I think my father resents the fact that I'm not a man. That I can't perpetuate the Riddles."
Harry frowns. "You can't choose your child's name? I mean, the D'Angelo I got from my grandfather…"
"The child takes the father's name. That's it. If I have kids with Asmo they're going to be Pettigrews. The same I am." There's a hint of something in her voice that Harry doesn't recognize.
"Hermione Pettigrew." He says out loud and frowns. "It's… awful." He says sincerely and she laughs out loud.
"I know. I've already thought about it."
Without his consent, his mind goes to forbidden places. Hermione D'Angelo. Hermione Potter. He gulps, suddenly feeling hot.
"Well," He begins just to say something else and change the subject, "what do you think we'll find tomorrow at the Ministry? After what we've done tonight?"
She makes a face. "I'm surprised Asmo didn't contact me after it happened." She raises both eyebrows. "Merlin, he's fine, right?" Hermione supports herself on her elbows, worried. "You just stunned him, didn't you?"
Harry nods, annoyed that she's so worried. "Yeah. He's fine, don't worry. I mean, I broke his wand."
Exhaling, she lies back on the bed. "That wasn't quite nice. It's a pain in the ass for adults to get new wands." She gives him a side glance. "He probably saw that there was nothing more we could do tonight. But tomorrow he'll be crazy. All over the place and… certainly accusing you."
"Me?" He opens a mischievous smile and points a finger to himself. "Come on, of course not, the guy loves me."
Hermione laughs again and his heart swells. It's a nice feeling. "Don't worry. He has no proof." She moves on the bed and his t-shirt rides up on her body. Harry sees the scar on her belly. Turning a bit to her, he says:
"You'll have to conceal your new scars from him. Or else he'll know, Hermione."
Her eyes go to his. "Don't worry. I have a lot of concealed scars, these ones are just two more."
"You have?" He lowers his voice. She nods. "I do too." And some other things. Being an Auror is getting new scars day in day out and he likes concealing them to… hide possible weaknesses.
She says nothing. And after staring at him for a while, she turns on the bed. "Thank you for staying with me, Harry. We should sleep, though. There's a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
He doesn't answer, his eyes on her back. Exhaling he turns to the other side, giving his back to her and closing his eyes. Soon they're both fast asleep.
This time it's the Sun that wakes him. The brightness is almost unbearable and as he opens his eyes he becomes aware of his surroundings. Right. The living room. And everything that happened the night before comes to his mind at once.
He freezes and the pit of his stomach is mad with butterflies, all his blood going south when he understands that the gentle snore he's hearing and feeling against his nape is Hermione sleeping attached to him. They're both on their sides and she's hugging his middle from behind, a hand under his t-shirt on his bare skin and one of her legs up around his waist, dangerously close to his groin. Her mouth touching his neck softly. He takes a deep breath. She feels warm and soft against him. He smiles. The way she's holding him is odd and adorable. She feels like a human backpack.
And he can't decide if he wants to move or not. Harry glances at the watch. It's already 8:30am. They're insanely late to work. He raises a hand to cover hers that's on his stomach but she moves, grunting close to his ear and squeezing his stomach. He presses his lips together. Her nails slowly scratch his abs. His breathing becomes shallow, he's getting hard insanely fast. And then… she gently kisses his nape, her lips a sin against his hot skin.
He holds back a moan. It feels like she's still sleeping and reacting as if he were… Pettigrew. Suddenly he stops the hand on his stomach and finds his voice.
"Hermione. We're late, it's time to wake."
"Just five more minutes, Asmo." She mumbles.
His heart squeezes inside his chest and - maybe too harshly - he disentangles himself from her. Hermione opens her eyes in one go and sits up on the bed. It takes her a second to understand.
"Harry. I- I'm so sorry! I mean, I-"
"It's fine. Really." They lock their eyes and he moves a bit to hide his evident arousal. "We need to go." This brings her back to reality and Hermione jumps from the bed when she sees the time.
"Oh, shiiiiit." She fetches her wand and bloody clothes, but reconsiders, "Maybe I can leave these here?" She's talking about the clothes and he agrees. "Okay. See you at the Ministry." And she's gone.
Harry lets out a grunt, exhaling heavily. "Fuck." Running his hands through his hair, he decides he needs a shower… he's already late anyways.
Ministry of Magic
"Merlin, man, where have you been?" Ron approaches him when he arrives at the Auror's floor at exactly 9:15am. He took his time in the shower… "It's been chaos here today."
He raises an eyebrow. "What happened?"
They walk side by side while Ron tells him, "Lucinda Summers and her daughter were rescued last night when they were being taken to Azkaban."
"Rescued?"
"It's what we imagine, at least, I mean, they vanished, Pettigrew was there and he's furious. He's been inside Hermione's office since she arrived and everyone is trying to listen." Ron lowers his voice, "They've been yelling like crazy."
"Why?" Harry frowns.
"From what I understood, he's blaming her." Ron shrugs. "He even said he's talking to the Minister."
Harry sets his jaw. Is it possible that Pettigrew recognized them? No, we were careful. Reaching his desk, Harry stops. He can see Hermione's door from there. Ginny comes to them, whistling.
"My, my, things are crazy today." She says. Then her eyes pierce Harry. "You look good, D'Angelo. Slept well?"
Harry knits his eyebrows together. "I guess I did." He's not even sure, but he slept like a rock with Hermione.
"Huh, funny." She says enigmatically.
"Funny?"
"Yeah, Hermione also had a great night. And also arrived pretty late." Ginny moves a few files on his desk as if she hadn't implied something just now.
The moment he opens his mouth to answer, the office's door opens and Hermione comes out. She takes a deep breath, her head low. Then, she raises her eyes, looking for… Harry.
"D'Angelo," Her voice echoes through the hall, "in my office, please." And she goes back inside.
Ginny clicks her tongue and Ron frowns.
"Uh, this is about to get interesting." A voice says behind Harry and he turns to see Malfoy. The blond man is smiling. "Tell us everything later, D'Angelo." He smacks Harry's shoulder.
Shaking his head he walks to the office and with a new found coldness he turns the knob. Pettigrew is standing close to the fireplace and Hermione is in front of him, her arms crossed.
"You!" Pettigrew says, pointing at Harry and baring his teeth. "This is all your fault!" He takes a step to Harry and Hermione stops him with a hand on his chest. "You think I'm an idiot, D'Angelo? Since you arrived ninety-eight wizards died and two Muggle sympathizers, one of them a fucking squib, escaped from Azkaban!"
Harry pockets his hands. Hermione is quiet, watching. "From what I've already heard they didn't even enter Azkaban, so, technically they didn't escape from it." He taunts Pettigrew and the man tries again walking to him.
"Asmo." Hermione warns him, and he turns to her, angry.
"And you, Hermione, acting like a teenager around him!" She blinks, "Giving him importance and handing over suspects for his interrogation when we should be interrogating HIM!"
"I won't have you talking like this to me." She says firmly.
"Like what? The truth? Just because he saved your life in an attack he probably planned you keep defending him!" He fully turns to Hermione and Harry understands that this is all happening because Pettigrew is jealous of him. "You threw me at a wall yesterday!"
"You crossed a line!" She finally loses some control. "You were trying to punch a fellow Auror, Asmo! For fuck's sake!" She yells, fully irritated. Then, to Harry's utter shock, she cups Pettigrew's face. Harry grits his teeth at the scene. "Look at me!" Pettigrew reluctantly obeys. "I'm your girlfriend. I love you." Harry's heart stops. Shit. "You have to stop being this jealous, Asmo." Her voice changes to a softer tone and Harry can see the change in Pettigrew's face as he relaxes into her touch, Hermione steps closer to him. "D'Angelo is a fellow Auror and he's here to help us, he's part of the team now. And that's it. We're not even friends, so, please, stop this nonsense."
Harry's hands close in fists inside his pockets. Not even friends. Not that he wanted to be her friend, but after what they shared last night it's so strange to hear her talking like this… as if he's truly nothing to her. An alarm sets off in his head. Do I want to be something to her?
Closing his eyes, Pettigrew sighs. "I'm sorry, love. I'm sorry." He hugs her waist and buries his face into the crook of her neck.
Harry wonders, "Excuse me, what am I doing here?" His voice is firm.
Hermione releases Pettigrew and turns to Harry. Her eyes are glinting and there's something she's trying to say with them - something he doesn't understand. But her words are, "You can leave, D'Angelo." He curtly nods and turns to leave, but when he opens the door, "And the next time you arrive at this hour prepare to be sacked."
Despite everything he opens a tiny smile she can't see and still with his back to her, he says, "Duly noted, Head Riddle."
Harry's flat
After the commotion in the morning, the day was pretty dull. Hermione and Pettigrew were inside the office all day long discussing what happened at the transference and Harry kept reading his files - new interrogations Ron and Ginny made - and found nothing interesting. He tried his best not to think about what happened inside Hermione's office and he did a pretty good job.
Until he got home.
The bed was still in the middle of the living room, her bloody clothes and the knife Pettigrew used on top of his dinner table. And when Harry dealt with all of this, he was left with a bloody carpet. It was impossible not to think about everything they talked and did. How nice it felt. And then how crystal clear she was when she said they weren't friends or anything at all. Reluctantly he admits to himself it hurt.
But now he's good. Now, every trace of her is gone and his flat looks just as plain as it always did. He sits on his couch with a bowl of vegetable soup, glad that he finally has some peace to look at his wall and think about-
An owl taps his window. Harry rolls his eyes and sighs, going to the owl. He immediately sees the Blacks' emblem. It's a letter from Sally. She's asking if she can come over to his flat-
Someone knocks on the door.
It can't be her yet, but Harry answers the letter with a Patronus, of course she can visit him. He thinks her company will do him some good.
Whoever is outside knocks again.
"Coming!" He yells and with the letter in his hand, he opens the door. "Hermione." He says her name before he can stop himself. She opens a tight smile.
"Hey. Can I… come in?" Her eyes travel fast to the letter in his hand then back to his. Nothing goes unnoticed by her.
Without a word, Harry steps aside and she enters his flat. He closes the door and crosses his arms, waiting. Gladly his wall is still concealed from prying eyes. Hermione just wanders inside.
"Why are you here?" He asks bluntly. "Do you want your clothes back? Because if that's the case I'm sorry to say that I've burned them."
"You've… burned my clothes?" She asks with an amused expression.
"Of course. They were evidence."
She snorts. "No, I'm not here because of my clothes." She raises her chin. "I wanted to talk about what you saw at my office today."
Harry narrows his eyes. "Talk about what? It was pretty clear to me."
She shakes her head and walks to him, stopping very close. "You don't know Asmo like I do, Harry. He's crazy jealous of you and I had to have you there when I said those things for him to actually believe."
"Why is he jealous of me? It's not like he has a reason to, Hermione. We're not even friends." The words are bitter in his mouth, he hates that them hurt so much.
"Harry," Her voice is soft, "you have to know that-"
A loud crack interrupts her. Sally is in the middle of the room. Harry looks up at her. Hermione turns to see who is it.
"I… brought us dinner." Sally says as she raises a bag of food. "Mum made for you, Harry." And, not even a bit flustered by Hermione's presence, Sally puts the bag on the table and takes off her coat, then finally, she turns to them again, saying, "Hermione, nice to see you. Leaving?"
Harry almost chokes at how direct the woman is.
"Sally. How you've been?"
"Amazing. You?"
"Never better."
Harry could cut the tension with a knife. He clears his throat. "Sally, hey." And he moves, walking to her and doing something he doesn't want to admit he wouldn't do if Hermione wasn't there. He kisses her lips gently. They smile at each other.
"Hey, handsome. I brought your favorite."
"Lasagna?" She nods and kisses him again.
"I'm gonna go." Hermione says, smiling tightly to them. "See you at the Ministry, D'Angelo. And you at the Ball, Sal."
"Good seeing you, Hermione." Sally sounds so fake Harry actually snorts when Hermione is gone.
"What's up with you two?" He asks while they set the table.
She shrugs. "We don't like each other."
"Why?"
"Why?" She makes a face. "Have you actually met Hermione? She's insufferable." He wants to refuse her words…
"Yeah, you're right."
It's a dark and abandoned ballroom. A place where many danced, laughed and flirted. But now is just a wreck filled with dusty furniture. Its big windows block the sunlight instead of letting it in and the tarnished curtains are like rags hanging by a thread. Harry can only hear his own footsteps while he wanders inside.
He's totally alone.
But he doesn't mind, he enjoys the loneliness, the silence, the stillness. The certainty of his own mind and ground. The serenity of darkness and its predictability.
There's a music filling the place, and now, instead of being at the middle of the room, he's atop of a huge flight of stairs.
There's a lion where he was a second ago. His lion. His Patronus.
Oddly the animal is dancing. It's unexplainable to Harry's mind, but possible.
And now the darkness and stillness are no more. The curtains are gone, the sun lits the whole room and Harry squints at the brightness. When his eyesight goes back to normal, he realizes there's someone else there at the other far end of the room atop of the other flight of stairs.
It's a woman. The long dress makes it obvious.
His lion keeps dancing.
A sense of danger makes him look down. There's a huge serpent slithering past his feet and going to the center of the room. To his lion.
He blinks and suddenly he's at the center again, the lion in front of him, the serpent around its neck, squeezing.
"She'll be the end of him." The female voice says by his side.
It's Hermione.
She's watching with a smile while Harry's lion tries releasing himself from the serpent's suffocating hold.
When he moves to stop the serpent, it's too late. The lion is dead, the place is filled with darkness again and Hermione is gone.
November 13th, 2005
Harry's Flat
He sits on the bed. It wasn't exactly a nightmare, but it was neither a nice dream.
It's Saturday and he's happy he doesn't have to go to the Ministry. Work yesterday was again uneventful and he used his free hours to practice the conjuring of his Patronus without a wand. Ron, Ginny and Malfoy wagged a bet between themselves: Ron was the only one saying Harry would do it. Ginny and Malfoy earned their money since Harry wasn't able to. But he felt closer, almost there…
Rubbing his eyes, he starts his day thinking if what he just dreamed had some kind of meaning or if it happened because the Ball is tonight…
He leans on the sink at the bathroom. It's a big night. He can't deny how huge this event is going to be for his revenge. He'll meet everyone. And get a chance of wandering inside Tom Riddle's Manor without much surveillance, which is a golden opportunity…
Two fast knocks bang on his front door. His heart quickens and Harry walks fast, swinging the door open. He has no idea what he was hoping to find, but it wasn't a huge box with a note attached to it.
D'Angelo, my father insisted I picked you a proper three piece suit for the Ball tonight. Maybe he thinks you lack good taste when it comes to clothes - which is odd since I'm sure he's only seen you in your uniform.
Regardless you like it or not, USE IT.
HR.
(See how HR can be both Hermione Riddle and Head Riddle?)
He snorts a laugh at her poor remark and bites down on his lower lip. A suit picked specially by Hermione? He doesn't fight the smile on his face while he pulls the box inside.
It's going to be a truly unique night indeed.
Note: Well, well, well.
I guess I can say things will be pretty intense between Harry and Hermione from now on.
Next chapter we have the first half of the Ball!