A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Huge thanks to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! You can find me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour).

Please let me know what you thought of chapter sixteen and be on the lookout for seventeen soon!

Gary didn't say anything to Hermione about her appearance when she slid onto her barstool and ordered a shot of whiskey and a beer. He didn't mention the tears she was furiously wiping from her cheeks, instead just passing her an extra napkin or two, which she thanked him for. And when she was there for over an hour and two beers in, he only looked like he was going to ask her once what was wrong.

Not that she would have told him anyway.

But, it appeared that ultimately, Sirius was right about Gareth as he was about Fenrir spilling secrets to her. She just wished that it didn't have to hurt her so much.

The bartender did look slightly relieved when Sirius finally showed up, slipping into the other bar stool next to her. He didn't need to wait for an order and instead busied himself with the taps to give the two of them a minute to talk.

"Jesus, kid, what happened to you?" Sirius asked, looking genuinely concerned at her red rimmed eyes and glum look. "Remus didn't flag up any warning."

"I'm sure that Remus doesn't have any idea that anything is wrong," Hermione said, struggling to get the words out around the lump in her throat. "It's not that something is actually wrong with the case either. It's more... personal."

"Personal?" Sirius asked, skeptical.

"Yeah, you know. Like things between me and Fenrir," she said, her cheeks going hot as she felt the shame of having to admit any of this to Sirius. Maybe this had all been a horrible idea, coming to him like this? What would he think of her? And what if he told her that she needed to be pulled from the case?

"What happened?" Sirius demanded, turning his body to look at her fully, not caring if anyone saw them. "I swear, if he did anything to hurt you, if he laid a finger on you, I will—"

Hermione cut him off, shaking her head furiously. "No, not like that, Sirius," she tried to call him down. She needed him to have a level head right then, not do something silly. "It's more like what he's not doing with me."

"Oh," Sirius said, his attention suddenly quite taken with the bar in front of him. Gary brought him a beer at that precise moment. Once he'd drank half of his pint in one go, he appeared ready to face her again. "I think you're going to have to give me a little more context, but keep in mind that I don't really need... specific details."

She snorted into her half empty glass. "You don't want to hear about my sex life?" she asked, hoping to add some levity into this already fucked up situation.

"Not particularly," he deadpanned.

"Well, there isn't much to share, anyways, so I think you'll be okay," Hermione reassured him.

"That's not how Remus tells it," Sirius countered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, Remus doesn't know everything, does he?" she asked. "I think that's been well established."

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius agreed, rolling his eyes back at her.

"Fenrir is..." she trailed off, wondering how she could explain this to Sirius without sounding absolutely crazy. "We've kissed, of course. And Fenrir is... really demonstrative and possessive. He loves to touch me — not like that. He's just always putting an arm around me or holding me, especially in front of other people."

Sirius ran his fingers through his hair, looking concerned. "You don't have to let him do that if you don't want to," he said with a wince. "I hate that you are so caught up in this."

"I know. And I could put a stop to it if I wanted to," she said, biting her lower lip. She really didn't want to. She relished in the extra attention. "He hasn't done anything else. We haven't gone further than that."

Her friend let out a breath that she hadn't realized he was holding. "I'm sort of... failing to see the problem, here, Kitten," he said, softly.

Hermione took a deep breath of her own, hoping to organize her feelings a bit before she revealed something she really shouldn't to Sirius. "It's just that... even though nothing else has happened, it doesn't stop people from saying mean things about me," she said with a whimper, realizing how silly and petty all of this sounded. "I have people like Malfoy calling me a tart or implying that I'm just a whore and I'm worthless and he will move on to someone else because he's not serious about me."

"Malfoy, hm," he said. "Which one?"

"Both actually," Hermione said, though she was mainly thinking of Lucius. "I just... god, it feels so silly to say the words out loud. Now I'm wondering if I didn't just make a mountain out of a molehill."

"I don't think your feelings are silly," he reassured her, giving her a gentle pat on the hand. "I promised that I'd help you anyway I could, even if that means acting as your therapist for a little while. Though, I am better than a therapist."

"Oh yeah? How's that?" she teased, already feeling a lot better.

"Well, you can drink beer with me," he explained. "Don't think you can do that with traditional therapy. Go on, you were saying?"

"Fenrir never corrects them or defends me when they say stuff like that. But coupled with the fact that he doesn't seem interested in going further with me, it just leaves me feeling sort of..." she trailed off, looking for the right word. "Worthless?"

"You are anything, but worthless, Hermione Granger," Sirius promised her. He wouldn't let her think any less of herself. "And if Fenrir Greyback can't see that then I say fuck him."

She bit back a quip about that being the point. "You don't... you don't think that there is anything wrong with me? Any reason why he wouldn't want to be with me?" she asked, her voice croaking.

Sirius turned to face her. "I am not just saying this to make you feel better about yourself. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. And in fact, I think if you opened your eyes and really looked in the places you should, you'd find that people find you more desirable than you know," he said, softly.

"Thanks, Sirius," she said, feeling a bit more confident with his reassurances, though she was still not totally on solid ground. It still felt nice to vent for a little while with someone who wouldn't judge her — unlike Remus or Harry or Ron. God! What would Harry and Ron think if they knew she was pining after some gangster?

She scrunched her nose thinking about it. "And really, I don't know why I'm so upset about it. I shouldn't want him to want me," she added.

"Oh, I think it's human nature to want to be desired. I don't think that's unusual at all," Sirius said, waving over Gary for another pint. "But, why are you letting what someone like Malfoy says about you get under your skin? It's not like you ever have to see them again in a few weeks — months tops."

"I know, that's why I felt silly telling you," she explained. She wouldn't tell him it was because she, maybe, somewhere deep down, wanted more with Fenrir than what he'd given her. "It's hard not to let it get to me, I guess. I just really want people to like me." That was the truth too. While she didn't make friends very easily, she liked doing well and being praised, so being denigrated (even if it was by someone like Malfoy) still stung.

When Gary came back to the bar, he set the pint down with such force that it sloshed the beer over the top. Hermione was about to tell him off for getting the foam on her when she noticed the stricken look on his face. His gaze was fixed somewhere behind her.

"Well isn't this a cozy scene?" Fenrir asked, from behind her.

Hermione straightened up and turned to face her boss, her heart hammering wildly against her rib cage. She hadn't been this afraid of Fenrir since she'd first met him. "This isn't what it looks like," she stammered out, her blood gone cold, wondering how she was going to get out of it.

"Oh really? It looks like you are letting some other guy chat you up and buy you drinks," he said, looming over Sirius threateningly. "And after I told you I don't share."

Relief flooded through her veins when she realized that he was only jealous and he hadn't realized that Sirius was a cop. For a moment, she'd worried that her whole cover was blown or he'd overheard what they were talking about.

Sirius leaned back against the bar, grinning something fierce, and Hermione just knew he was going to cause trouble. "Hey, if Kitten needs a shoulder to cry on because you're an idiot, I'll always be here for her," he said, slyly.

"Sirius, not helping," Hermione hissed at her friend, annoyed with how much he was enjoying this. How could he be so calm when going toe to toe with Fenrir?

Fenrir raised an eyebrow at her. "You know this guy?" he asked her, crossing his arms over his chest, his ire growing by the second. "Listen, I asked you once before if you were leading me on and you denied it, but everything you do makes me question that."

"I'm not leading you on," Hermione said, a whine in her voice, wishing that they didn't have to do this at the bar. How had he even found her there? "I swear it."

"Then explain the guy," he ordered, staring her down. "You have ten seconds."

She floundered for a second, before an idea popped into her head. "This is Sirius," she said, hoping that it would work. "He's my uncle."

"Uncle?" Fenrir repeated skeptically.

"Yes, he's my mum's kid brother, okay? He's... he's harmless, really," she said, pleased to see that Fenrir was taking her at her word. "But, he has a mouth on him. He can't help it really."

Fenrir stared hard at her, like he was willing her to crack. But, all she gave him was pleading eyes, wanting him to believe her. Finally, he rewarded her with that now familiar crooked grin. "A family trait, I suppose," he quipped. "One that you share."

Hermione relaxed, feeling a weight off of her shoulders. "Shut up," she said, smirking at him.

"You are a hard woman to track down, did you know that?" Fenrir asked, before taking the fresh beer off of the counter and drinking it all in one go. Sirius made a little noise of protest, knowing that it belonged to him, but ultimately didn't put up a fight. "I've been looking for you since you stormed out. You worried me, you know that?" He cupped her cheek gently, looking at her in the eyes.

"Well, it's not like I was hiding," Hermione said, looking to Sirius. "I just needed to clear my head."

"Is it clear now?" he asked her.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, thinking that she did feel like she was in a much better place, having talked to Sirius about what was going on. But not only that, she felt much better knowing that Fenrir had come to find her. He must feel something more for her if he was willing to do that.

"Then, I've got her from here on out," Fenrir said, telling Sirius. He laid some money down on the bar, before offering Hermione his hand. "Come on, Peach. It's time to go."

"My niece better not need another shoulder to cry on, got it?" Sirius postured, despite Hermione's glare at him. "I might not be as... big as you, but I think that you'll find I can hold my own."

Hermione giggled nervously. "Okay, Uncle Sirius," she said with a put upon grin. "I'll talk to you later!"

Fenrir was happy to lead her out from the bar and into the cold evening. It was now dark outside and Hermione couldn't believe how long she'd actually stayed at the bar. She was pleased that her flat was just around the corner as she still didn't have her jacket, but it was a good enough excuse to cuddle up to the tall man next to her.

When they got to her flat, he surprised her by actually holding the door open. She looked at him, halfway confused and halfway excited. "Wait, are you really coming up with me?" she asked, knowing that he had never crossed this threshold with her before.

"I promised I'd see you safely home, didn't I?" he asked, before following her into the warmth of the building.

She led him up the stairs to the door of her flat, fiddling with the keys for only a moment before opening the door to her sparse little home. "Are you coming in?" she asked.

To her pleasure, Fenrir did come in, locking the door behind him. And then he was there, standing in her kitchen, looking far too out of place to be there. He made no secret of the way that he was looking around, poking his head around the corner.

"What are you looking for?" Hermione asked suspiciously, wondering what he was expecting to find.

"I was looking for a bag, actually," he said. "You've got those croissants, but you've never told me where you get them from. I was thinking maybe I could suss out the bakery."

Hermione felt her cheeks go pink. "Oh," she said, before deciding to come clean. "I actually make them."

"You make them?" he asked. "But they are so good!"

"Oh? You think that I can't make good food?" she asked, pressing her hands to her hips. She scoffed, wondering why she gave off that impression.

"Maybe... maybe you'd make a good housewife after all," he teased, walking towards her until her back was pressed against the counter.

Hermione felt her breath leave her and her brain go a bit fuzzy, now that she was surrounded by his presence. That almost sounded like... like an offer. "I actually can bake just fine — there is a precision you need to be good at it... rule following," she whispered, unsure of how she was able to find the words. "Cooking, on the other hand, well, I could use a little more practice."

"Why do you have so many?" Fenrir asked, surprised by the veritable mountain of croissant she had waiting for her.

"I usually just sit around here, bored... waiting for you to call me," she explained. "I needed to do something to pass the time."

He looked surprised to hear that. "You really don't have any other work from other clients?" he asked.

Hermione bit her lower lip, trying to figure out the best thing to say. She eventually reached forward, catching the belt loops of his jeans with her fingers, pulling him even closer against her. "What can I say? I wanted to make sure to give you my full attention," she said, her eyes fluttering. She wondered if this seduction would work, because she really, really wanted it to. She could admit that now. "After all, you don't share."

Fenrir tipped his head back for a brief moment, but when he looked at her again, he was smirking at her. "You're right, I don't," he confirmed, his eyes smoldering with want. "I like that — know that you are mine and only mine."

"And yet, you leave me to wonder if you really do want me," she said, giving him a pouty little look. "Everyone thinks that I'm just some tart to you, but despite your words, you leave me wanting."

Before she knew it, he was picking her up and setting her to sit on the edge of the counter. He stepped in between her spread legs, his arms going on either side of her body. Fenrir kissed her once, only to go back for seconds, deepening the kiss. His tongue slipped along her own, making Hermione moan. She wrapped her arms around him, wanting to keep him with her, lest he get some idea about sneaking away from her.

One of his hands tangled in her hair, arching her head until she was completely open to him. Fenrir was a man who knew exactly what he wanted, controlling the situation to be a favorable outcome for him every time. Hermione felt her insides go gooey at the thought, wondering what it was that he really wanted with her. Was this going to be the night that he finally showed her?

He slipped his other hand up the front of her t-shirt, giving one breast a little squeeze before rolling the hard peak with his thumb. Even though it was through her bra, it still felt better than anything she would have imagined in her darkest day dreams.

When his lips dropped to her neck, Hermione sighed. "Please, Fenrir," she practically begged. "Take me to bed."

But then, he groaned and removed his hand from under her shirt. He pressed one last lingering kiss to her lips, before giving her a sad sort of look. "I'd like to do that, but you're drunk, Peach," he said, sounding disappointed. "The first time I fuck you, I want to make sure you are clearheaded enough to remember every second of it."

"But I'm not that drunk," she whined, not wanting this to be over. "I'm really not. I want this, Fenrir. Please."

"I know that you do," he said, his own resolve waning. "And I do to, but... it's better this way. You'll see in the morning."

Hermione bit her lip. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making her bolder than she usually was, but she could analyze that some other time. "Then, stay the night with me, and we can see if that's true," she asked. "Come, sleep in my bed with me. I won't try anything. Just sleep."

He stared at her hard for a moment, before he nodded. "I suppose it is a long, lonely walk back to the warehouse," he agreed.

With that decided, he pulled her down from the counter and she led him to her bedroom, pleased that it didn't look like a complete disaster zone. Hermione dressed in her pajamas, unbothered with showing a bit of skin to the man, though she was disappointed that it didn't break his resolve, aside from a few additional kisses. Fenrir kicked off his boots and his jeans before he slipped under the covers with her and pulled her to lay her head on her chest.

Hermione didn't realize how tired she was until she lay down, listening to Fenrir's strong heart beat which was successful in lulling her into a restful sleep.