A/N: Thank you for your reviews, favorites and follows! Huge thanks to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! And a happy new years to all of you! I hope you had a great holiday. You can find me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour).
Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirteen and lookout for chapter fourteen soon!
It took everything in Hermione's power not to say that Sirius had been right — Draco Malfoy was an absolute pain in the arse. After all, it wouldn't have made any sense. Fenrir didn't have any idea who Sirius was, and not only that, but why would Sirius know Draco Malfoy and why would Hermione have been talking to them?
"They were... interesting," Hermione finally settled on. "Do you have to work with them much?"
"Blaise more so now," Fenrir said, giving her a crooked sort of grin. "His mum has been stepping back and wants to pass on the business to her son, but I don't think that she can keep her fingers out of the pudding for that long."
"He seemed to have a good business mind," Hermione said, hoping that it sounded charitable. She had no doubt in her mind that Blaise would be able to keep that business in money, just based on their short interaction together.
"And Malfoy is... Malfoy," Fenrir added, like she was supposed to know.
"He was rather self important," Hermione decided, no sense in trying to soften the blow. He didn't seem to have nearly the business interest that Blaise did.
"Luckily, he doesn't come across my path that often," he answered. "Antonin has to deal with him much more, on account of his father. I might have killed him already if I had to deal with him hovering around me with any sort of frequency, with him thinking that he was calling any sort of shots."
"So, his father works with Antonin," she said with a certain sort of aloofness that she hoped wouldn't make him suspicious of her questioning. "And he thinks he's important."
"Well, his father actually works for someone else... someone who Antonin also works for," Fenrir explained. "So I suppose that he is important in a way. But most of us know that he is a spoiled brat and useless at the moment. Maybe seeing his friend take over his mother's business will help him see the potential he actually has, rather than playing at being a boxer."
She wanted to press more, to see if she could get him to admit to working with Tom Riddle, but she reminded herself that this was a delicate operation. That she was in this for the long haul. There was no point in spooking him just to get confirmation of what they already knew. "I hate people like that," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "They don't have to do any hard work and just get to swoop in for some powerful job."
"Is that why you work for yourself?" Fenrir asked her.
She sighed, wishing that she didn't have to lie about these sorts of things with him. "I guess — if I'm my own boss, the only one in control of how well I do is me," she said, her mind drifting to how unappreciated she sometimes felt at work. "No one can swan in and get the promotion that I deserve just because of who their father is."
"Sounds like you have some experience in the corporate world," he teased her.
Unwittingly, Hermione's head snapped to look at him with wide eyes, hoping that she didn't give up some detail that she wasn't meant to. She flushed. "I suppose we all have to start out somewhere, before we figure things out for ourselves," she said, hoping that was an explanation.
Fenrir fought a smile. "Hermione Granger, who would have thought that you started out in such a vanilla job," he said, his voice low. "I'm glad that you saw reason and figured out where the real money was at."
"And, let's be honest, it's much more fun this way," she added, relaxing into her seat with a great big sigh, glad to have navigated that. He hadn't been too interested in her work before she came to him, except that Remus had apparently vetted her. Remus's word was enough to convince him to work with her.
Wanting to keep the conversation off of herself and her job, Hermione gently steered the conversation to the football scores — something she was more than qualified to talk about thanks to her friendship with Harry and Ron. Honestly, sometimes she watched Match of the Day just because she missed them. Fenrir didn't seem overly interested in the sport, but enough that it filled the time while they drove through the neighborhood, collecting their 'rent' as Fenrir called it.
It was nice to get to explore the neighborhood, even if she felt like a black cloud whenever they walked in. The business owners always seemed to know who they were and why they were there and it didn't feel joyous to be taking money for a service that someone may or may not need. Mostly, Fenrir seemed to be welcomed everywhere that they went.
They visited a bakery, a grocery, a butcher and an off-license. A stop at a greasy spoon involved fending off offers of a full English, and eventually they were roped into splitting a sandwich instead. Hermione thought that the food was delicious, but she mostly just enjoyed the old man behind the counter chiding Fenrir for not stopping in more frequently.
There were a few other shops — a record store, a real accountant's firm, a little bar, and a bookshop. Everyone seemed to know Fenrir and everyone seemed to have a friendly relationship with him, despite what Hermione thought about him extorting money from these poor people. She knew it was wrong, but this little tour was really putting her on her head about it.
Just when she thought that they had seen all of the neighborhood, they drove down a rather familiar street, before pulling into Greengrass & Sons. Killing the engine, they both got out and found Daphne halfway under a car.
"Give me a minute," she barked out gruffly, while the noises of a wrench working furiously sang out in the bay. Then, she pushed back on the creeper and emerged from under the car, with part of a muffler in hand and a trademark smudge of oil down one cheek. "Wow, two stops in one day. Aren't I the popular one?" she quipped, seeing Hermione standing there.
"I just dropped off our latest batch," Hermione explained to Fenrir, hoping to provide a bit of additional context.
"But I haven't seen you in ages!" Daphne said to Fenrir, her face lighting up in surprise. She wrapped her arms around his neck to give him a hug, before pressing a kiss to each cheek.
Fenrir returned the hug, his hand straying extremely low to the flat of her back. "Good to see you, Daph," he said, before pointing out the smudge on her cheek. "You've just got a little something here."
Daphne giggled, pulling a bandana out of her back pocket to wipe away the stray oil, before looking at his face. She scrunched up her nose. "Looks like I've gotten a bit on you myself," she teased, before reaching up to wipe away the tiny speck (which honestly Hermione didn't even see) on his cheek. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of a personal visit? I promise that Hermione has been doing a great job all on her own."
Hermione felt her stomach twist with some unknown emotion at the way that Daphne practically purred out her words when she spoke to Fenrir. It was completely different to the brusque way that the mechanic usually spoke to her. Honestly, Hermione had never felt like Daphne didn't like her, but seeing the overly warm way that she talked to Fenrir made her think that maybe she wasn't so welcome.
"I have no doubts about that," Fenrir said, giving Hermione a wink. "She's been invaluable to me these last few weeks. We're here about the rent."
"I could have given it to Hermione, earlier, if you'd just asked," Daphne scolded. "Could have saved you an extra trip."
"It was my oversight," Fenrir explained. "I guess I got an impromptu itch to come do the work myself — give Dean an extra day off."
Daphne smirked and pressed her hand to Fenrir's shoulder. "Well, I guess it's my lucky day, if I'm getting a personal visit from you," she said, her tone decidedly flirty. "Come on back to the office and I can get it for you."
Hermione couldn't take her eyes off of the spot on Fenrir's shoulder where Daphne had squeezed him, a dark jealous feeling bubbling up inside of her. When the large man turned to look at her, she gave him a tight smile. "You go ahead, I'll just wait here," she bit out. "Surely the two of you can handle this on your own?"
Daphne gave her a broad smile. "You're right — she's a smart one, Fen," she quipped, before leading him back to her little office.
As soon as they disappeared from sight, Hermione let out a breath that she didn't realize she'd been holding. God, she couldn't believe it — she was jealous! She was fucking jealous of the flirty way that Fenrir and Daphne acted around one another.
Of course, there was always a part of her that was a bit... jealous of Daphne. Well, Hermione thought of it more as having admiration or being inspired by the woman. Daphne was obviously gorgeous, but she was still a hard worker. She didn't rest and instead carved out a successful life for her and her sister. She had a smashing attitude and didn't take shit from anyone, bossing around men twice her age like she was born to do it. Hermione wished she had an ounce of Daphne's moxy.
But now... now she was jealous of the way that Fenrir looked at her. Hermione remembered her early conversation with Daphne where she had explained her role in Fenrir's life. How she had grown up around him and even had a crush. How later in life, they even had a little bit of a fling. Was Fenrir still interested in the blonde? Was he just biding his time with her until he could get the woman that he really wanted? Or worse, was their romance really just a convenient fling because she happened to be around?
Her thoughts were spiraling all while she heard Fenrir and Daphne's muffled voices in her office, obviously joking around. It was both a blessing and a curse that she couldn't see what was happening behind the closed door. Looking around the shop, she wished that Astoria was hanging around, just to put her out of her misery of her imagination jumping from scenario to scenario, all ending with her heartbroken and alone.
Heartbroken?
Surely, it wasn't as serious as all that.
Luckily, it did not take much longer for them to emerge from the secrecy of Daphne's office. Fenrir had a rather thin envelope in his hand. They said their goodbyes.
"Don't be such a stranger, Fenrir," Daphne said. "I am sure that Hermione wouldn't mind you tagging along for drops, would you, Hermione?"
Hermione gave the other woman a tight smile. "Of course, Fenrir is always welcome along," she said, hating how sour it sounded. "Besides, who even knows how much longer I'll be doing this. He can't keep me forever."
Daphne's face fell at the news that Hermione wasn't a more permanent employee. She turned to scowl at Fenrir. "Finally you find someone more tolerable for me to work with and already you are letting her slip out of her fingers?" she chided. "Don't make me go back to someone dull."
Fenrir gave Hermione a pinched sort of look, like he was actually hurt. "Well, I can't tell Hermione what to do, even if I'd like to keep her," he said, almost like she was standing there.
"I'm just a... a consultant, you see," Hermione reminded both of them, not hating at all if it was twisting the knife. She rather doubted that either of them would be too broken up if she went away and never saw them again. She was probably just standing in the way of romance blossoming in earnest between them as it stood. "We should really be going. I've got to get home. It's been a long day."
"Of course," Daphne said, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "See you next week, Hermione."
When they got back to Fenrir's car, the earlier excited atmosphere had all but disappeared. Hermione sat in silence, staring out the window for a while. Fenrir offered to drop her off at her flat directly and she agreed. With her mood so poorly, she didn't really want to spend any more time with Fenrir than she needed to.
It didn't take long until they were stopped in front of her building once again. "Here we are," Fenrir said, with a disappointed sigh — like he wasn't willing to let her leave so soon. He handed her the little envelope that held the money from Daphne. "Put that into the glove box."
Unable to help herself, Hermione opened up the flap and thumbed through the bills hidden inside, finding it lighter compared to the other businesses that they had visited that day. "Seems like Daphne gets special treatment," she said, hating how jealous her voice sounded. She wanted to seem unaffected and aloof, but failed miserably. "She doesn't owe you nearly as much."
Fenrir snorted at her. "Yeah, well, if you remember I am a silent partner in her shop. That's how this whole money laundering thing is working," he said, amused that he was having to explain it to her. "It feels a little bit silly to pay myself twice out of her profits."
Hermione felt her cheeks go hot, embarrassed that she hadn't thought of it that way. Of course, that made perfect sense. "Oh," she squeaked, before popping open the glove compartment and shoving the envelope inside with all the others.
"Are you... jealous of Daphne?" he asked, his voice teasing, but with an edge underneath.
She dropped her eyes to her lap, unwilling to meet his eyes again. God, she felt like such a little girl in that moment, jealous over something that wasn't even hers to begin with. "No, I'm not jealous," she insisted, even though it was a lie. "Just... you seem to have a very warm relationship with her."
Fenrir gave her a bitter laugh. "Oh, and you are one to talk about warm friendships. What the fuck is going on between you and Remus?" he asked, grabbing her chin so that he could make her look at him — confront him head on. "Because if you are just using me to try to make him jealous —"
Hermione gaped at him, wondering where he would have gotten an idea like that. "Remus and I are not a thing," she insisted, eyes wide. She wanted, needed him to believe. "We barely even have a friendship. He just asked me to do this job for you, that's it."
"That's not what it seems like," he said, letting the empty space hang between them.
"Well, I don't know what I can do to convince you," Hermione answered, her heart hammering away against her chest. The thought of Remus having any interest in her romantically seemed outlandish and awkward — like an itchy sweater that didn't fit quite right. "I don't have feelings for Remus, and I would never use you to try to get him to... do something."
"I'm not sure that he feels the same way," he insisted. "The way that he looks at you, the way that he's always hovering around and appearing whenever we are together. I have to come up with little field trips to get you to myself."
Her brows furrowed, thinking over what he just said. Surely it was not because he was pining after her, but more because he was concerned about her tenuous position with her undercover mission. Right? Only, he did seem awfully distressed that she might be pursuing a sexual avenue of information gathering, even though it was Sirius that had suggested it in the first place. He must know that it was a trick of the trade?
"Remus is free to... to feel whatever he feels, but that doesn't mean that those feelings will be reciprocated," Hermione insisted, wanting to tread carefully on this. She would hate it if Fenrir tried to do something to Remus on her behalf when she was certain this was all just a huge overreaction to begin with! "But, there is nothing going on between us, I promise."
"Good. Because I don't share," Fenrir said, rewarding her with a kiss. She got the impression that it was meant to be just a quick peck, but as soon as their lips were pressed together he was groaning in appreciation, deepening the kiss. It ended far too quickly for Hermione's tastes, but she tried not to pout. "And you don't have anything to be jealous of Daphne for."
She let out an indignant gasp. "I wasn't jealous!" she insisted, even though she knew he had seen through her lie.
"We go way back, but there is absolutely nothing romantic between us anymore," he promised, revealing what she already knew. That Daphne and Fenrir had had a fling at some point after her father died. "We are better off as friends and that's how it's going to remain."
Hermione couldn't help but smile at hearing that. She still didn't love the flirty way that they had interacted, but so far Fenrir's word had been good. If he made a promise, she tended to believe him. "Good, because I don't share either," she said, a cheeky grin on her face.
Fenrir preened at hearing that and pulled her in for one more lingering kiss. "Go, now, before I follow you upstairs," he ordered, though it was very clear that he didn't want to let her go.
"I'll see you again, soon," she promised, knowing that she would be back in the warehouse the next day. While they still hadn't defined exactly what they were to each other, Hermione felt a little bit better to know that it was exclusive. Getting out of the car, she walked into her building, giving one last lingering look over her shoulder at the man who'd so thoroughly captured her attention, even though he was the last person who should have.