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December 11th, 2005
Hermione's house
Harry grunts. He can feel a small weight on his chest and he knows it's Crookshanks even with closed eyes. "I swear, this cat." He complains and hears Hermione chuckling by his side. She's laying on his numb arm, her legs close to his but a tiny space between them that created itself naturally while they slept.
He moves his other hand to pet Crookshanks, still with his eyes closed. The cat purrs and Harry feels Hermione moving on the bed.
"Is it time to wake already?" He asks, still sleepy.
"No, we still have an hour." She says, closer now. Hermione nestles herself on the nook of his body and he moves his numb arm to embrace her.
"So, it's only the cat who wants some attention." He says in a dragged voice.
She muffles another chuckle and Harry smiles to himself.
Then, after a beat, her words cut the room like a knife. "Asmo comes back today."
Harry stops his hand and Crookshanks moves out and away.
He sets his jaw.
He's been sharing a bed with Hermione for the past week. Seven days of pure… fun. In lack of a better word. Harry has no idea where Pettigrew was, but he couldn't care less. The only thing that mattered was the freedom they shared every night inside her house, away from prying eyes and their own doubts. It was like a silent agreement. Close to 8pm Hermione would send him a message through the coin with the word 'dinner?' In a beat he was at her house and they ate together while going over what to do about the investigation.
Then they had sex in every imaginable position until their minds were blown away. Each and every time getting impossibly better and hotter.
But Harry can't deny that his favorite moment was lying down with her, holding her in his arms, breathing her in and after soft and gentle caresses falling into the abyss of sleep like two babies. He never slept better in his entire life.
It's such a hopeless situation that even Crookshanks getting himself between them in the middle of the night, or lying on Harry as if he were a pillow became a part of their little ritual. And Harry will miss it.
He'll miss it all.
"Okay." He says slowly, his heart breaking.
It's over.
Their nights together are over because Hermione's boyfriend is back. Sighing angrily, he pulls her closer to him and she goes gladly, moving so she's on top of him. Harry feels her lips on his neck, then his cheek and lips. They kiss slowly, softly. He holds her tighter. Hermione stops the kiss and hugs him, her face on the crook of his neck. He inhales the scent of her hair.
"I-" She begins. But stops. Harry waits. She clears her throat. "We have the dinner at my father's tomorrow."
He makes a face, his hands going up and down her back. "Yeah, I know."
"How… are things between you and Sally?" It's the first time Hermione mentions her for the past week.
"Good." He says. "The whole dance thing is behind us. We get along pretty well, to be honest."
Hermione clicks her tongue, trying to move away from him but he holds her in place, opening his eyes. "Let me go, Harry."
"Why? You asked about her, Hermione. I have to look at that fucking picture of you and Pettigrew every night and-"
"No, no, no." She extricates herself. "We can't do this. We can't go there."
"What are you talking about?"
"We can't be jealous of each other." She says flatly, her eyes on him. She's sitting on the bed at a safe distance. "This is just sex." She states.
Harry opens his mouth. Angry. "Yeah, sure, sex and cuddling and talking tactics together, having dinner every night-"
"Because Asmo was away, Harry." She cuts him. "We settled this from the start."
He makes an outraged sound and stands from the bed. He's naked. They thought clothes were useless on the second night. But now he dresses himself fast. Hermione watches.
When he's fully dressed, he turns to her. "See you at the Ministry, boss."
And with that, he's gone.
Ministry of Magic
They're inside a secluded office where they've been meeting for the past week and Hermione thought it would be a good place to stay away from 'hearing walls' - as she called it. Ron, Ginny, Draco and Harry are already inside when she enters the room.
Against his will, his heart skips a beat when he sees her, but he avoids her eyes, fidgeting with a quill. And then…
Then Pettigrew enters the room.
Harry sets his jaw, not moving a muscle while the others greet him back, asking about his mission. The man smiles and shakes his head. It's classified. It was a personal request from the Minister and he can't talk about it. Harry is sure Hermione knows what Pettigrew was doing but she didn't tell him. To be fair, he didn't ask either.
"D'Angelo." Pettigrew says with an ironic tone.
"Pettigrew." He greets, his eyes finally moving to the other Auror. He regrets instantly. Pettigrew is holding Hermione by the waist and she's smiling at him.
Harry averts his eyes, back to the paper on the table, his fingers drumming against it. "Are you okay?" Ginny asks silently by his side and he turns to her.
"Yeah, sure." He forces a smile, but the only thing on his mind is wondering how hard he could punch Pettigrew without killing him.
Hermione clears her throat.
"Okay, so, I kept Asmo on the loop on what we were doing here," Harry grits his teeth. Of course she kept in touch with her boyfriend for the past week, but hearing it makes it a thousand times worse and a nasty thought crosses his mind… could it be that when they were together she was yearning for Pettigrew? His quill breaks in his hand and they all look at him.
"Oh," He says, a bit embarrassed. With his own hand he magically puts it back together and motions for Hermione to continue.
She has her eyes on him when she starts talking again, "We already have a name from the gun store-"
"Which was nuts, Hermione." Pettigrew interrupts her. "You shouldn't have done that." He's talking to all of them, ignoring Harry on purpose.
"Come on, mate." Draco says, "You're not going to tattle us, are you?"
Pettigrew snorts and then looks at Harry with anger. Harry just raises an eyebrow, not quite understanding. "No, of course not. Regardless how we got the information, what matters is finding who did this."
"Okay," Hermione says, "Vernon Dursley. He's a Muggle. There are no records of him inside this Ministry, so it's obvious we'll need to find him in Muggle London. And as we've been debating this-"
"I said I'll go with you." Harry says to her.
"No need, D'Angelo," Pettigrew cuts in, "I'm back. I'll go with her." He opens a sarcastic smile to Harry.
Leaning back on his chair, Harry says nothing, he keeps staring at Pettigrew.
"Oookay," Ginny says, "Asmo and Hermione will search for this Dursley guy in Muggle London and then what? Do you intend on interrogating him? Bringing him in? He's a Muggle."
"We'll see when we find him." Hermione says.
Harry shakes his head. "This is not right. This should be a decision made by all of us." Hermione presses her lips, her eyes on him. "Maybe I don't agree on this, maybe I wanna-"
"You want nothing, D'Angelo." Pettigrew says, "You shouldn't even be here to begin with."
Harry stands from the chair abruptly. "You know what, Pettigrew. Fuck this."
And before anyone else can say a thing, Harry walks out furiously.
Outside London
He doesn't even know if he's going to find anything, but Harry keeps flying through the night. Since he left the Ministry in a haste, totally furious with Pettigrew and with what his presence means, he's been mulling over one lead Hermione found this last week.
They talked about investigating together, but Harry concluded that Hermione is too busy pampering stronzo Pettigrew, so, here he is. Alone.
His broom is fast and he knows he's close to the location so he slows down and uses a charm to hide himself as he approaches some houses. It's a Wizarding Community but he hopes to go unnoticed. Harry lands on the empty street. Looking up at the houses, he searches for number 15, the one where Karkaroff supposedly lives.
After cracking their heads on the way all the Aurors involved with the Persecution disappeared, Hermione said she could use her position as Head Auror to seek information on any wizard or witch. Harry asked why she hadn't done that before. She said the Minister gets a warning every time she pulls someone's file. And to avoid his questions, she refrained from doing it.
But she said it was time, time to finally understand this case that haunts her life for more than fourteen years.
So, she pulled files on each Auror, but even so they discovered little. Karkaroff was the only one with an address.
Harry magically changes his appearance when he stops in front of number 15. It's an old house. And it looks abandoned. Harry settles his broom at a safe distance from the house, hidden behind a tree. Pocketing his hands, he walks slowly, studying the place, searching for clues of inhabitants.
He sees none.
In a blur, he runs and enters the house through a window that he magically dissolves and puts back together after he's on the other side.
It's pitch black inside and he feels a chill running down his spine. He doesn't like this. Maybe coming alone wasn't his best idea.
He ponders if a Lumos is the best option. So, he crouches exactly where he landed, not moving a muscle and breathing slowly, trying to hear the air around him. Harry stays there for long and endless minutes on high alert.
But there's no one inside. He's sure now. Using his wand to illuminate the place, Harry stands. There's absolutely nothing inside the house. It's just a shell filled with dust. Well, at least the living room where he landed, is. Harry moves silently, still observing everything and ready to defend himself.
Crossing a threshold, he enters what he assumes was a dinning room combined with a kitchen. The house is still empty.
Harry stops for a moment, chewing the insides of his cheeks, pondering. He can see the stairs that lead upstairs. But he's frozen on the spot, there's a heavy sensation on his stomach. Of something bad.
Before he can take a step, he feels the coin like a block of ice inside his pocket. Groaning at how much he wants to hear from Hermione, he fetches the coin:
Where are you?
He raises an eyebrow. Is she at his door? The question only makes sense if she already went to his place and discovered he wasn't there. However, he's angry. So, he tucks the coin away and heads to the stairs. He goes up slowly, verifying each step to make sure there's not any trap there. When he reaches the top, the sensation of something awful takes over him and he feels like running away from the house.
Taking deep breaths he realizes it's only a spell. Whoever casted it wanted people to stay away. Murmuring a counter spell, he moves further inside. All rooms are empty. But there's one shut door at the end of the hall. The air closes around him at each step he takes closer to the door. His heart is beating so strongly he can feel every beat like drums on his ears.
Wetting his lips, he turns the knob.
Harry opens his mouth at the scene.
There's a dead body inside the room. An old man. Karkaroff. But that's not what makes him dizzy. Karkaroff is glued to the wall. Naked. His throat slit open. Dried blood all over him. And just besides his body there's one word written in blood.
Iustitia.
Setting his jaw, he enters further inside the room. There's nothing there. No clue of who did this or for how long the man has been there, dead, on the wall.
A mixture of emotions takes over him. He can't say he's sad because this man is dead, but he's frustrated for sure. He wanted to interrogate him and maybe get some answers to what happened on that Halloween night.
His eyes land on the word.
He knows what it means.
Justice.
Probably for his parents.
It's the first time that he's sure someone else is on a personal vendetta like he is. And he only needs to find out who. Maybe this way he can have answers.
Shaking his head, he moves downstairs and out of the house. When he reaches his broom, the coin turns ice cold again:
D'Angelo
She's angry. It annoys him that just by reading his name, he can see her face and expression, knowing exactly the tone she's using. He fetches the broom and apparates to his flat.
Not making a sound, he looks to see if Hermione is on the other side of his door. She's not. He looks at his watch. There's somewhere he needs to be.
So, after changing clothes and putting himself back together, he takes the coin and sends Hermione a message:
With Sally.
And he apparates to Grimmauld.
December 12th, 2005
Riddle Manor
He's again standing in front of those huge gates that lead to the Manor. But this time Sally is by his side, holding his hand. Sirius and Eleonora right there with them.
"Well, let's go. I hope he serves lobster tonight." Sirius says mockingly.
The gates open for them and they walk silently until they reach the front door. Bellatrix opens it with a smile. Harry observes while her and Sirius share an affectionate hug. Then she kisses Eleanor on the cheek, doing the same with Sally, leaving him for last.
"D'Angelo." The others are already entering the house and Harry can hear Riddle's voice along with Pettigrew's.
"Mrs Riddle." He says politely.
She smiles to him. Harry tilts his head, watching her features. Bellatrix is a beautiful woman. Wavy black hair and eyes. High cheekbones and a welcoming smile. For the first time, he notices that… Hermione doesn't look like her mother, at all. They carry many differences and it's hard for him to see the Head Auror in her mother's features. He remembers thinking the same about Tom Riddle.
That makes him raise an eyebrow.
"You look good, dear. How have you been?" Bellatrix asks while she hugs him briefly, guiding him inside. Harry smiles.
"Good. And you?"
"Great. We never got the chance to talk about your dance with my daughter-"
"D'Angelo." Tom Riddle cuts his wife's words as he approaches them, his eyes set on Harry. The Minister extends his hand to him in a tight handshake. "I'm glad you're here. And I hope we can leave any misunderstandings behind us tonight."
Harry nods. "Of course, sir. In fact, for me, they already are behind us."
"Good." Riddle says and he follows the couple inside, reaching a dinning room Harry didn't even enter at the Ball.
Hermione, Asmodeus, Peter and a woman that's probably his wife are there, talking to the Blacks. Harry clears his throat. The first one who moves is the woman - who he didn't meet at the Ball.
"Sarah Pettigrew." She extends her hand to him. There's not a smile on her face, her eyes are cold and Harry can't help thinking that she looks like someone who would do whatever it took to get things done her way.
"Harry D'Angelo." He says with a nod and a gentle handshake. She presses her lips together and he immediately averts his eyes from her, inhaling heavily.
He decided nothing would shake his resolve and he nods to Asmodeus and Peter saying their names in a way of greeting.
The same with Hermione.
She narrows her eyes at him, but Harry doesn't care. After leaving the Ministry the way he did yesterday and ignoring her at night, Hermione cornered him this morning when he arrived at the Aurors' floor. He could see some hurt in her eyes, but mostly anger. She asked who the hell he thought he was to storm out like that and ignore her when she needed to talk to him. He simply said he could do whatever he pleased and she should stop acting like they owed each other any kind of satisfaction of their whereabouts. He clearly saw how hard his words hit her.
He walks to Sally and takes her hand, smiling. Sirius says something about their plans for the weekend and the others begin a discussion Harry chooses to ignore. His eyes only stopping for a second on Hermione. She looks beautiful in her red dress. Like always.
Sally kisses his cheek gently and leans closer to murmur in his ear, "Sarah's creepy, isn't she?" Harry chuckles and brings her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. He nods, agreeing. He leans to her.
"They all are." He says in a low voice and it's her time to chuckle and shake her head, cupping his cheek.
"What are we even doing here?" She whispers and he laughs a bit louder, bringing her closer by the waist.
"I have no idea." He kisses her cheek.
"Good to see that you two are so in love." Riddle's voice reaches them. Harry straightens, but his arm is still around Sally. She chokes a bit by his side, obviously the word 'love' is a bit strong. "See how there was nothing to worry about, Peter?" Harry purses his lips. Riddle wasted no time in making things clear, after all this was the whole reason for this dinner.
"In love, huh?" Sirius asks them, raising an eyebrow but with a smile on his face. "I guess we're just waiting for the proposal then."
"Dad, come on." Sally says, blushing. Harry looks at her, doing his best to keep his eyes away from Hermione. He can feel her gaze on him, heavy.
"What? Are you going to say 'no' when I do ask?" Harry asks her in a voice loud enough for the others to hear, but low enough to seem like a private conversation. He knows he's just doing this to provoke Hermione, but he can't help himself.
Sally opens and closes her mouth. Then she smiles. But there's something strange in her smile, not quite right. It isn't the first time Harry notices this. "Well, I guess you'll have to ask and see." She winks.
"Oh, bella, I'm looking forward to it." He winks back at her, the lie slipping from his lips.
Eleonora and Sirius are smiling. Peter, Asmodeus, Sarah and Tom are talking about something else, not minding them at all. But Bellatrix is by Hermione's side and they're watching their exchange in silence. Still with one arm around Sally, Harry walks with the others to the table.
Dinner will be served shortly.
The food was awful, but Harry pretended it was delicious. At each course, he wished he could go back to his Villa and eat like a true Italian. Probably what he misses most from Italy is the food. But in general, it was a pleasant evening… at least the pleasantest it can be with Tom Riddle and the Pettigrews.
He did his best to avoid looking at Hermione, but she was sitting right in front of him and many times their eyes met. Each time he would think of them naked together. Kissing and moaning or just drifting to sleep holding onto each other. And every time he took Sally's hand in his, smiling at her and nodding to the others in an attempt to show some interest in whatever they were discussing.
Hermione was disturbingly silent the whole time, if she said five complete sentences it was too much. Asmodeus on the other hand didn't stop for a single minute. Harry restrained himself from rolling his eyes to the back of his skull because on how hard Pettigrew was sucking the Minister's balls. It boarded the ridiculous. But Tom Riddle enjoyed himself. He laughed and was pretty vocal about their adventures together. Bellatrix, Sirius, Eleonora and Peter also had a lot to say.
At a point Bellatrix asked Harry a few things of his life in Italy. He was polite enough but shared the least he could. He hates talking about his life. Sally smiled at him when he was telling a few harmless stories of his years at Aurora: Scuola di Magia. He actually liked remembering a few things. Harry was not an example to be followed in certain aspects. He was a stellar student, but he liked to have his fun. A lot. Along with Chiara and another two friends, he used to sneak out almost every night to party. When he mentioned this, it didn't go unnoticed to him the face Hermione made at the mention of his ex fiancee. He spoke of her as one of his friends, but Hermione knows the truth. Part of it. He left a lot out when he explained things to her about his previous relationship.
Following Harry's stories, Bellatrix brought up the way Hermione would obsess over the silliest things, wanting to know it all about every subject until exhaustion. Harry had to endure Asmodeus kissing her cheek and telling everyone how adorable he thought this particular trait was.
And then, just when they were eating dessert, Tom Riddle's words made them all go still.
"Indeed, Hermione likes her obsessions. Do you remember, Bellatrix, when she was twelve and couldn't stop talking about the Potters?"
Harry swallows the key lime pie on his mouth. It goes down sourly. Sirius is the one who speaks:
"I do remember you mentioning something about this, Bellatrix." He chews a bit, then, "Is that so, Hermione? Were you obsessed with the Potters? Why?"
It's almost like Harry can feel Sirius' curiosity hanging in the air. Bellatrix is focused on her food and Tom Riddle is watching his daughter with sharp eyes.
Hermione smiles tightly, drinking some wine. "I was." It's her answer. Harry wants to smile, but he doesn't, his eyes on her. Asmodeus is also watching her closely. Peter and Sarah barely breathe. "Dumbledore told me about James Potter one day and I wanted to know what had happened to him." She shrugs, being as nonchalant as possible, fetching another slice of key lime pie.
"Dumbledore, huh?" Sirius says, "That crazy old man." He chuckles and Bellatrix does too.
Tom Riddle is quiet. His eyes still on Hermione. "And how is this obsession now?" He asks his daughter.
Harry sees the discreet way she stiffens. Riddle knows she pulled those files.
"What do you mean, father?" She opens a side smile. "It's over. I guess we all know what happened to James Potter and his wife."
"That filthy Mudblood." Peter hisses. "They really got what they deserved. Right, Sirius?" Peter is looking directly at Harry.
"Naturally." It's the only thing Sirius answers. He's watching Hermione with attention.
"Over, you say?" Riddle is still talking to Hermione. Bellatrix raises her head to watch the exchange and Harry can tell she's not liking what she's hearing. "Curious." He sips on his wine. Harry waits for the moment Riddle will bring up the way she's digging into things she shouldn't.
But Riddle says nothing more.
Harry realizes that's their way of dealing with things. Veiled threats. And he raises an eyebrow at that, could Riddle really be threatening his own daughter?
"What's curious, father?"
Harry grits his teeth. Hermione should let this go, but now she's the one with sharp eyes on Riddle. The man smiles, raising a glass in her direction.
"Nothing, Hermione. Nothing."
A heavy atmosphere takes over the dinning room. Until, "And what do you think, D'Angelo?" It's Peter Pettigrew asking him.
Harry makes a face of confusion. "About?"
"The Potters."
Harry scoffs, "I don't see why my opinion should matter."
"Humor us, then." Asmodeus says.
"Well, we live and recognize ourselves by our beliefs, don't we? As a society and as individuals." Sally squeezes his thigh under the table, "And I think that what happened to the Potters was the reflexion of the British Wizarding society at the time." He feels a foot on his shin. Hermione's. She's trying to make him stop. "With the new Minister," Harry nods to Riddle, "the rules had to be set, right? Things had to be clear. And I think they were. I think the Potters made a choice and were held accountable for their behavior," He takes a sip, "I mean," It's like he's unable to stop, "the Ministry tried reasoning with them, but they resisted and maybe the Aurors had no other choice-"
"They attacked our Aurors, D'Angelo." Riddle cuts him. "James Potter was a disgrace to our community. He came from a traditional Pureblood family and I'm sure his parents died of disgust." He makes a face. "He married a Mudblood. An aberration. No Muggle should create a child with magic. Can you imagine? And what if the Potters had had a child of their own?" Harry stops breathing, "No wizard or witch that comes from such an union should be allowed to live, to wield a wand. It tarnishes our power and our community."
Harry sets his jaw. He never wanted to kill Tom Riddle so badly.
Riddle continues, "The most we could do with children like this is study them, find the error, maybe…" He trails, stopping. Sally's hand leaves Harry's thigh, but Hermione's foot is still there, close to him. He moves his own to touch hers. She doesn't recoil. "I digress." Riddle clears his throat. "We shouldn't waste our time talking about traitors." He opens a nasty smile. "But tell me, D'Angelo, what's your grandfather thinking? Running for Minister at the Ministero della Magia Italiano." Riddle snorts. "A brave man, your grandfather, to run at his age and with the way International Relations are-"
"I know nothing about this, sir." Harry says fast, Hermione's foot going up and down his leg. "My grandfather is a strong willed man and he hardly changes his mind. If he's running for Minister I'm sure he has his reasons for it, which I don't know."
It's written all over Riddle's face how much he hates Harry's answer. "And if he wins, D'Angelo? Do you plan to go back to Italy?"
Harry moves on his seat and Hermione recoils her foot. Her face is an expressionless mask. "I don't think so, sir." He puts one arm around Sally's shoulders, bringing her to him. "I have good reasons to stay right where I am."
Sally takes his hand and they intertwine their fingers.
"I see." It's all Riddle says.
Harry gently presses a kiss against Sally's temple. He wants this night to be over. He can't handle these people anymore. And at the moment he's thankful for Sally's presence. She's grounding him in a way, making things easier, making it possible for him to exchange words with her and ignore the way Asmodeus and Hermione are laughing together or the way talking about the Potters left his chest heavy. He's not even sure how he's not crying.
He feels awful, dirty.
And when they finally raise from the table, he exhales relieved. Intertwining his fingers with Sally's, he follows everyone else outside. He grits his teeth when he realizes they're just changing places. The conversation is not over. Everyone is holding a glass of something when they settle at the comfortable chairs outside. The extension of the Manor, outrageous. Harry stops a moment to gaze into the distance and Sally rests her head on his shoulder, sighing. He closes his eyes.
Suddenly it all feels too much.
"I-" He turns, Hermione is sitting on Pettigrew's lap and he's holding her by the waist while they exchange a few words. The others are entertained with themselves and Harry has no choice than call her, "Hermione," She moves her head sharply to him, "I- where's the washroom?" He points to the interior of the house.
"You go straight in, then you take the second right. The washroom is the last door." Her voice is even, but her eyes are strange.
He nods. Winking at Sally, he releases her and heads inside.
Each step sounds loud to him, his head throbbing.
When he enters the washroom, he crumbles down, crying. "Fuck." Harry sobs, breathing deeply, trying to stay calm. He can't take too long or else someone will come for him, so, he washes his face and when steps sound at the corridor, he pretends to be flushing.
Whoever it was outside, the person opens the door and he crosses his arms.
Hermione is inside with him.
For the first time, Harry notices how enormous the washroom is. There's a fair distance between them.
"What?" He asks. "Can't I even piss in peace?"
"Since you're ignoring me-"
"I'm not-"
"You are." She says firmly. "Since yesterday morning."
Harry snorts. "Look, Hermione, I'm not in the mood at all for this," He motions between them, "Whatever you want to say to me, you can send me a message later."
She sighs. "Whatever, Harry." She makes a face and he doesn't understand, "We don't have much time, so," She opens the door, "follow me. Silently."
"What the-"
"Later." She cuts him and he pockets his hands, knowing he'll follow her.
Hermione exits the washroom and they walk through what Harry imagines is a labyrinth inside the mansion. Cutting through halls and doors, Hermione finally stops in front of a shelf. She presses her hand against it and it opens for them. She walks fast, climbing some stairs. Then they're inside a room. One Harry can only assume was hers.
In seconds he takes it all in. Her endless books, her desk, her bed, a wall covered with portraits of her and friends at Hogwarts, and another corner filled with trophies. Quidditch trophies.
"Didn't know you played." He says in a low voice, pointing to the trophies. Hermione barely listens, she's looking for something in one of her drawers. "I was Seeker." He moves closer to the trophies. "Hey, you were Seeker too!" He has no idea why, but the idea makes him… happy.
"Yeah, yeah." She says, finally coming to him with a long and thick needle in her hand. "Give me your hand."
"Oh, no, no."
"Fuck, Harry, we don't have the time!" She pulls his hand to hers and swiftly pricks his finger. It burns and he recoils his hand with a groan. Hermione doesn't look at him, instead she takes the needle and with her eyes closed, she starts reciting a strong spell. Harry recognizes it and widens his eyes. She's bonding his blood to the house, allowing him in whenever. The drop of blood falls on the floor and vanishes.
She opens her eyes, breathing heavily.
"Why?" It's the only thing he asks.
"Because if we need to get inside to search for clues I won't have to keep letting you in."
"Won't your father know?"
"No. I masked the spell with my own blood. He'll think it's me." She sighs and puts away the needle. "We need to go back."
Harry holds her arm. "Hermione, no. This is too dangerous. He already knows you pulled those files, what if he catches us inside? Snooping? No."
"I don't care. We'll go through with this, Harry. This feeling about the Persecution and the Potters was dead inside me, but since the Fair, since- it's wide awake now and I want answers. I won't rest until I get them, is that clear? You can join me or not."
He sets his jaw. "You're so stubborn." She makes a face. "Fine. Fine." He releases her arm and she moves to exit the room.
While they make their way back, Hermione says, "Go straight outside, I gave an excuse for leaving. If someone asks say you got lost inside, whatever."
"Okay."
He follows her until they reach the washroom. Then, Hermione goes on the opposite direction and Harry strides to the french window he came through.
"Harry, my boy, what took you so long?" It's Sirius who asks.
Harry chuckles and shakes his head. "I got lost inside." He raises a hand. "It's a big house." Tom Riddle seems to enjoy his explanation as he agrees.
Pettigrew watches him with a clear face of disgust. "Want to play some Quidditch, D'Angelo?" Asmodeus asks. "We were planning to end the night with a healthy competition."
Harry smiles. By the tone Pettigrew used, he's sure he was like the best player in his year. What he doesn't know is that Harry was the best player at his entire school.
"Sure, I love Quidditch."
Hermione finally comes from inside, there's a big chest floating in front of her and Harry recognizes the Quidditch balls. "Father, we need to organize that basement, honestly, it took me forever to find this."
"Didn't you just accio it?" Asmodeus asks. Hermione hesitates for a second.
"I did, but it was trapped under a whole lot of things that I had to manage individually." She makes a face. "Doesn't matter, so," She looks at the others, changing the subject as fast as possible, "Do we have our teams settled?"
And they proceed to divide themselves. Sally rolls her eyes when she communicates to Harry that she hates Quidditch. Harry snorts and says she needs to play for them to at least have some fun. Lacking people to form complete teams, they decide on leaving out one chaser and one beater, so they were like this after minutes:
At one side:
Harry - Seeker
Sirius - Beater
Bellatrix - Chaser
Riddle - Chaser
Sally - Keeper
On the other team:
Hermione - Seeker
Asmodeus - Beater
Peter - Chaser
Sarah - Chaser
Eleonora - Keeper
It didn't surprise Harry when they walked over to the other side of the Manor and he saw a Quidditch field. It was surely expected. His grandfather's Villa also has one. And while he observed the pitch, all others suddenly appeared dressed in uniforms.
Harry made a face when he noticed and Sally laughed out loud, pointing the locker room to him.
He kept shaking his head all the way while donning on his uniform.
And as he looks at himself on the mirror, he notices the uniform matches the colors from a Hogwarts' house, Slytherin. He cocks his head. He likes green and silver.
"Ready to lose?"
He turns around to see Hermione standing inside the place, her arms crossed. Her uniform is red and black, close to the colors of their Aurors' uniforms. She looks hot.
Harry snorts.
"Please. I'm sure I'm better than you."
Hermione cocks her head, a smile playing on her face. "Don't underestimate your opponent, D'Angelo."
Raising a hand and stepping closer to her, he says, "I would never. I just know I'm the best."
She rolls her eyes and steps closer to him. They're almost touching now. Her eyes fall to his lips. Then go back up to his. "The uniform suits you." She says in a husky voice.
"Yeah? Do you like it?" He inhales deeply, leaning closer, their lips almost touching.
Hermione only moans an answer. And before they even think of the absurdity, they clash together, their lips meeting eagerly. Harry holds her by the waist and presses her back against the nearest wall, she dishevels him, her mouth and tongue merciless. He squeezes her breast and ass through the fabric of the uniform and she bites his lip in response. Harry bucks his hips. She moans again.
And then they hear a sound. Like someone stepping close outside.
Abruptly they separate. As fast as two lightning bolts. Panting, they stare at each other, their eyes wide. Hermione shakes her head and closes her eyes, cursing under her breath. Harry runs both hands through his hair, trying to calm himself.
Only with gestures she tells him to magically get rid of her lipstick and walks out of the locker room right after. Harry slaps his own forehead. He can't be this reckless. They can't. He sets his jaw. After what happened yesterday morning they shouldn't even be kissing-
"Fuck." He whispers and fetches a broom.
When he's out of the locker room, everyone is already in the air, and he doesn't waste a second. Flying high, he stops in front of Hermione, above all others. She avoids looking at him and he knows she's wondering the same.
Did someone see them? If so, who was it?
There's no way of knowing.
Harry grunts. It's the fifth time he has to make a dangerous maneuver to avoid a Bludger. Asmodeus barely remembers the chasers. His focus is totally on making Harry fall off his broom. But this kind of tactic is a bit suicidal for the team. Harry's team is ahead at the score by 250x100. If Asmodeus keeps this up, Hermione catching the Snitch won't make a difference at who wins.
And that's exactly what she's shouting to Asmodeus right now. "STOP BEING A DICK!" She's yelling at the top of her lungs and Harry is laughing out loud at the sourness in Asmodeus' face.
Still smiling, Harry uses the moment to feint her. While Hermione is looking down at Asmodeus, Harry darts in a straight line away from the pitch and in a second she's right behind him. He stops. She stops in front of him. Hermione shakes her head.
"Idiot." She says playfully.
Harry shrugs. "I'm just proving I'm the better Seeker."
Hermione flies around him, "By doing nothing? I can fly in a straight line also."
"Come on, it's not my fault this Snitch is taking forever and your boyfriend only wants to smack my skull."
She snorts. Harry begins flying in circles and they stay close, watching the game unfold many feet below. Harry can't deny everyone plays pretty well. But then Peter Pettigrew scores in a ridiculous way, clearly making fun of Sally's limited abilities.
Harry laughs.
"Poor Sally." He says.
"Ah, right, your bella." Hermione spits the words.
Harry narrows his eyes. "I thought we couldn't be jealous of each other."
"Who said I'm jealous? Please, D'Angelo, I'm just mocking you." She flies a bit away from him, avoiding the subject.
Harry chews the insides of his cheeks, his eyes following her. She doesn't stop that far away and her eyes seek his. At this distance she lets herself be a bit more vulnerable and Harry can see clearly how jealous and uncomfortable she is because of Sally. He gulps. They know this fucks their agreement of 'just sex'. Of course being jealous doesn't mean they're… feeling something more, but it brings out a sense of possession. And since the start they knew they weren't exclusive. Harry knew about Asmodeus and Hermione knew about Sally.
Harry moves, stopping by her side.
"We need to talk, Harry."
He raises an eyebrow.
"About?"
She shakes her head. "Later."
Harry only nods and flies away, to the clouds. This time she doesn't follow and he hovers above, searching the damn Snitch, a bit tired of how long it's taking.
And to his satisfaction, he sees it. Far away from the pitch. A bit uncharacteristic for a Snitch. With it still on his peripheral vision, he looks for Hermione. She's flying at the other side. Harry doesn't think twice.
He bolts.
Hermione watches his movement but she hesitates for a second, thinking he's again feinting her. When she notices that he's truly after the Snitch, she flies so fast and determined he's a bit awed. But Harry doesn't lose focus, his eyes still on the golden ball that is flying close to the ground.
He finally feels Hermione getting closer and now they're both coming down, but she's still a broom behind him.
He grits his teeth. And then it all happens fast.
Harry hears - so strong he actually hears - the sound of the bat hitting the Bludger, he knows it's coming, he knows it's fast and he knows he needs to move, but he doesn't, he keeps pushing himself to the limit, sure he can seize the Snitch before the Bludger hits him.
But he miscalculates it.
And Hermione calls to him.
But when he turns, she's already putting herself between him and the Bludger. Harry widens his eyes when the ball hits her hard on the stomach.
She flies back, to him.
"Hermione!"
He moves to catch her and soften her crash to the ground. They hit the grass together, his arms around her while he takes the fall, the air leaving his lungs in one go. Harry hits his head, but he doesn't care.
In a blur he's nestling her in his arms, calling her, his hand on her face. She has her eyes closed and he's terribly afraid that she might be dead. It was a horrible hit.
Breathing hard and trying to concentrate, he presses his forehead to hers. His wand is not with him. He left it at the locker room, so, the fastest way of saving her is wandless magic. And he doesn't know if he has what it takes.
But he tries.
Mumbling a healing spell for the lungs and other internal organs, he does his best to bring her back to him.
He never felt this desperate.
And at each breath he takes and she doesn't, he thinks he might die with her.
His left hand burns.
Harry chews the insides of his cheeks madly, murmuring the spell inside his head, his hands on her body on-
Hermione takes a deep breath, coming back and coughing, her eyes widening. "Fuuuuuuck." She says and he laughs like a madmen. Laughs of relief.
"Are you mad?" He says louder than he wanted to. "Why get in the way-"
"Shut up, you took a bullet for me."
He hugs her, his head inside the crook of her neck. She kisses the side of his head tenderly. And they hear the others approaching.
Harry is up in a beat. Fucking furious.
The moment Asmodeus hits the floor, Harry lunges at him. "Are you an idiot!?" He's yelling, his fist ready to meet the other's face. Pettigrew grits his teeth and is faster than Harry, shoving him hard. Harry finds himself still yelling, "You could have killed her!" The others are with Hermione, asking if she's fine-
"It was meant for you, D'Angelo!" Pettigrew is also pretty angry.
And in a blur of snarls and cursing, Harry tackles him and they start fighting on the ground. They don't even know where they're punching and Harry doesn't care, he just wants to inflict some pain on this utter asshole.
In seconds Harry feels a strong spell separating them.
He lands on the grass.
When Harry finally calms down, his hands on his knees, his breathing slower, he notices his shirt is ripped up and he gets rid of it. His lip is bleeding and he can barely touch his cheek on the right side. He winces. At least he punched Pettigrew hard enough to hurt. From afar Harry can see the man's dislodged jaw and blood oozing from a cut above his eyes.
Hermione is looking at Harry, pressing her lips together and shaking her head. Peter and Sarah are with Asmodeus. Sirius and Eleonora are… laughing. Riddle and Bellatrix both have a strange expression on their faces and Sally is coming to him with a sarcastic smile.
But his eyes are still on Hermione.
He can see her observing Sally's movements and she sets her jaw when Sally touches Harry's face and lips, healing him with her wand. He gulps. Hermione is drilling holes into Sally's skull, jealousy written all over her face, raw. He never saw her showing her emotions this openly.
Then Sally touches his bare chest.
Hermione fists her hands and turns sharply, going to Asmodeus.
Harry finally looks at the woman in front of him. She's looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Can I crash at your place tonight?" She asks bluntly.
He widens his eyes. They haven't crossed that line yet. But he knows they eventually will. And they certainly should. Especially if he wants to go through with the wedding thing. But… Hermione. In a strange turn of events, he finds himself thinking that if he sleeps with Sally, he'll be cheating on Hermione, which is-
Stupid.
He watches Hermione kissing Asmodeus tenderly in a tight embrace. Even after what the guy did…
"Of course." It's his answer to Sally. She smiles.
Harry's flat
3:13am. It's what the clock shows him. Sighing, he looks at Sally sleeping soundly by his side. The sex was… good. Nice. But it lacked something. No, it didn't.
He makes a face.
The comparison was inevitable. And it shook him to the bone to realize that comparing was unfair. The pleasure and desire he discovered with Hermione is unique. And he knows.
He knows because maybe only what he had with Chiara comes close.
Closing his eyes, he can't help wondering if what he shares with Hermione is unique because of the whole Harmony thing. And he also wonders if she feels it too. If being with Pettigrew is-
He sits on the bed.
Harry fetches the coin from his nightstand, playing with it. Hermione said she wanted to talk and he needs to tell her what he found inside that creepy house. Maybe he should stop ignoring her. Hermione never lied to him when it came to the whole 'just sex' thing. He can't be angry or jealous because Asmodeus is back, the same way she shouldn't be jealous of Sally…
He still remembers the look on her face watching Sally tending his wounds.
It isn't just sex.
Holding his head with both hands, he struggles with the realization. He thought he might die with her because of that Bludger. And if things are slightly similar to her, he can only imagine how she felt when she found him dying with all that blood from the Sectumsempra.
And the tingle.
The strange sensation when they touch left hands. What's up with that? He examines his left hand. The palm, the back, his fingers, his wrist. There's nothing unusual about it. It's the same hand it's always been for the past twenty-five years.
Sally moves on the bed, turning to the other side and he makes peace with the fact that he's not tired. Sleep won't come. So, with the coin, he moves to the living room. Harry settles on his couch-
The coin turns ice cold and he widens his eyes:
Can we talk?
He bites his lower lip. He doesn't have to answer. It's three in the morning, it's believable that he's sleeping.
But he says:
Can't sleep?
It takes a while for her to answer and when she does, he widens his eyes and stands from the couch:
At your door.
Harry curses under his breath, even so, he opens the door and she's there.
But when she opens her mouth to talk, he presses a finger to his lips, the clear sign of silence. She frowns. Then her eyes scan him. Harry's only in his boxers - but he always sleeps only in his boxers. Hermione narrows her eyes, though.
Regardless, she steps inside and Harry closes the door. Then, with her wand, she conjures up a silencing bubble around them.
"Sally is asleep." He says fast and brutally.
Hermione stills. Her whole body tense. She sets her jaw and clicks her tongue. She looks down and up at him again.
"Okay," Her voice sounds strained, "But can we talk? Or is she going to wake at any minute?"
He has no idea, but he's been up for hours and Sally seems like a heavy sleeper. "We can talk."
He wants to ask what she's doing there, why she's not with Pettigrew, but he wisely shuts his mouth. She sits on the couch and he sits on the chair. "I think we can find new leads inside the Manor." She's direct. "I mean, we still need to search that address-"
"No. I went there. Yesterday."
Her head turns swiftly, her eyes on his, a flash of violent anger swimming in them. "And?" She asks through gritted teeth.
"He's dead. Karkaroff is dead." She widens her eyes.
"Fuck."
"And not just that… there was a writing on the wall. A reminder." She leans back on the couch, crossing her arms. "Iustitia."
"Justice." He nods. She looks down, thinking. "For the Potters…" She trails, her eyes lost. "I'm going there to see-"
"No." He says firmly. "It's grotesque and I don't think-"
"You," She points a finger at him, "have no opinion on this." She says harshly. "I'll do whatever the fuck I want." She raises from the couch, ready to leave. He holds her forearm. "I'm so fucking angry with you right now, Harry, seriously. We said we would investigate together and you went on your own-"
"I'm sorry, okay? Sorry." He raises his hands and steps closer to her. "I was just pissed and…" He sighs. "It won't happen again, you're right, we said we would investigate together and that's what we'll do."
She purses her lips, a wrinkle between her brows. "Why were you pissed?"
He tilts his head, making a face. "You know why."
Hermione looks at the corridor, from there they can see the door to his bedroom where Sally is fast asleep. She looks back at him. And in a voice that's barely there, she says, "I miss sleeping with you."
The air leaves his lungs and his heart beats faster. Hermione hardly expresses her feelings.
"Me too."
And he cups her cheeks, their eyes locked. She sighs. "What are we doing, Harry?" She shakes her head, leaning into his touch, her hands coming to his arms. "I mean," She snorts, "It's almost 4am and I'm here because I couldn't sleep with Asmo by my side, just to find out that you're sleeping with Sally and-" She closes her eyes, biting her lower lip. "And I'm so jealous-"
He kisses her.
Slow and hot.
He tries putting into it all that he's feeling, even if he has no idea what it is. But a few things he knows. He knows he wants to be with her all the time. He knows he loves her laugh. And he knows there's no better place to fall asleep than tangled with her. He also knows he would protect her with his own life.
She moans softly against his mouth, her hands already on his hair while he pulls her closer by the waist, their lips moving in sync. His tongue explores her mouth and he feels high from the sheer absurdity of what they're doing.
Harry pulls away, her bottom lip between his teeth. Then he gives her a peck, his arms squeezing her.
They hug.
And hold each other extremely close. He can feel her nails digging into his back. She kisses his neck in a caress he learned to love.
Finally she steps back.
"Should we stop?" She asks, vulnerability in her tone. It's an honest question.
He sighs. "If we don't consider all the risks we're taking… do you want to? Stop?"
"No. I really don't."
"Me neither."
They smile.
But she frowns. "Someone saw us, Harry."
He chews the insides of his cheeks and she puts a hand on one of them, stopping his action. "Who do you think it was?"
"I don't know. But we need to be more careful."
He cocks his head and crosses his arms, chuckling. "Sure, we're being so careful right now with Sally on the other room-"
"I swear," She brings him to her by the nape, "Every time she touches you I see myself hexing her. That dinner was fucking torture."
"I could say the same."
They kiss briefly. "We can't be jealous." She says.
He snorts. "Okay." He kisses her again. "I'll just punch him in my head."
"Okay, good." She kisses him. "Crookshanks misses you too. He doesn't like Asmo very much."
They chuckle. And share another kiss. "Smart cat."
Kissing his cheeks and jaw, then neck, Hermione takes two steps away from him. "I need to go."
He looks to the ceiling, resigned. "Okay. We can go together to Karkaroff's if you want."
She nods. "Yes."
He waits for her to leave then. But Hermione is still there, looking at him. He opens a side smile. She doesn't want to go.
With two steps he closes the distance between them again and kisses her. Her neck, her mouth, her jaw.
"Okay, okay." He pulls away. "Go."
She grunts. But in a blink she's gone.
Harry sits back on his couch, smiling like a fool. He shakes his head, his eyes going to his concealed wall. Each time he kisses her his revenge seems further away. Pressing his lips together he decides he won't think about this now. The best he can do is take one day at a time and hope for the best.
So, still with her taste in his mouth, he goes back to bed.
Sally didn't even flinch.