A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! It seems like ffnet is finally starting to fix the issues with notification emails and I am hoping to resume review responses with that. Hopefully you all will actually be notified when I post new chapters, too! If not, you can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I typically post about updates. Extra big thanks to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter!
Please let me know what you thought of chapter eight and be on the lookout for chapter nine soon!
Fenrir recalled her to the warehouse the day after their ill thought out makeout session. He didn't bother to call or to offer to come get her like he had in the past — just a terse text message that told her to come in and at what time he expected her to be there for. She typed out a quick agreement, before pulling herself out of bed to get ready for the day.
Her stomach churned the whole time she was showering, thinking of how rashly she'd acted, the way that she'd practically thrown herself at Fenrir the night before. Worse was that she didn't even really regret the kisses or mind the way that he'd taken over her mind. No, mostly she was just embarrassed that she'd been caught and by Remus no less.
God, she could still see the look of horror on his face when he realized what she'd been up to. She felt somewhat like she was never going to live this down. Of course, he was going to confront her about her behavior — how he didn't think that she was that type of woman — and he was going to tell Sirius. She wondered if Sirius would defend her, tell Remus that he'd sort of put her up to it in the first place.
What if it got back to Harry and Ron? What would they think of her? Because they didn't know about the confusing, churning feelings inside of her. They didn't know that she saw that there was more to Fenrir than she had at the beginning. It wasn't like she was in love with the guy... she hadn't completely lost her mind. But she did like him. And she was attracted to him. There, she said it. She could be honest with herself, a little bit.
No, Harry and Ron didn't need to know any of that and they might be able to see it as Hermione doing whatever it took to get ahead. She'd been somewhat ruthless in school and she found that some reputations were hard to shake.
Looking at the time, she realized that she'd dawdled too long in the warm spray of the shower with her thoughts and she wouldn't have time to dry her hair like she wanted. Instead, she toweled her wet hair as dry as she could get it before pulling it into a French plait behind her. Not sure what to expect for the day, she pulled on some simple jeans and a white t-shirt and her now trusty black, leather jacket before setting out for the warehouse.
Fenrir was waiting for her when she got there. He made absolutely no mention of their searing kiss from the day before and offered her no extra affection. It was almost as if the previous night was completely removed from his memory. But, he still drank in her form slowly, heat in his eyes, like it was his right to appreciate the way that she looked.
On his desk were two deposit bags. Hermione unzipped one to find the money that she'd prettied up the night before in her dryer.
"I think we're ready for our first deposit, don't you?" he asked, though it was clear his mind was already made up. "I think you are more than capable of handling it. You know your way around the neighborhood. You think you can find the places?"
"Yeah, I think I've got it," Hermione said. In truth, on one of those boring days trapped in her flat she had gone out and done a little reconnaissance of her own. She hadn't gone inside either establishment, but she knew where they were and what the foot traffic was usually like. "If I run into any issues, I'll call."
Fenrir went back around to the other side of his desk, not bothering to dismiss her from his presence. Instead, all of his attention was on the calculator, pen and paper in front of him. It was as if she didn't warrant a second glance.
To be honest, it hurt. But, Hermione wasn't going to let him know how he made her feel. Maybe after weeks of chasing after her with innuendo and flirting, now that he'd caught his quarry she would no longer capture his attention.
While she was walking out of the building, she was disappointed to run smack dab into Remus. She tried to rush past him, but he caught her by the arm, spinning her around to look at him. "Hermione, we need to talk," he said firmly.
"Not now, Remus," she hissed, before shaking the deposit bags at him. "I've got things to do."
"It's important," he insisted.
"Just... let me do my job and you do yours," she answered. "Remember, you were the one with the confidence that I could do this, so just... trust your instincts."
She didn't wait for him to stop her a second time, fleeing to the outside world. Hermione tucked the deposit bags tightly under her arm, thinking about how foolish it was for her to be walking around with them out in the public. If anyone knew about the absolutely eye-watering amount of money she had on hand, they would surely take it from her quite easily. Nibbling away on her lower lip, she decided that she would have to talk to Fenrir about that if it was going to be a regular occurrence.
Her feet were leading her in the direction of Greengrass & Sons — she didn't fancy having to fend off Scabior quite this early in the morning. Before long, she was stopping in front of a cheery looking little garage, the bright blue paint chipping off the side and faded from the years. She walked in and found Daphne halfway under a car.
"Um, Daphne?" she called out, not wanting to scare her.
A rather metallic bang answered. "Fuck!" Daphne called out, before pushing herself free from the car, rubbing a gloved hand on her forehead, leaving a tiny smear of oil on her hairline. "I do that every time."
Hermione tried not to laugh, but it was pretty funny. "I'm sorry to have startled you," she said. "But, I come bearing gifts. A deposit." She shook one of the bags out for the other woman to take in her hand.
"Nice," Daphne said, unzipping the bag and thumbing through the worn bills. "I was actually just headed to the bank now that I've started that oil change, if you want to come with?"
"Oh, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your day," Hermione said. Daphne seemed rather busy, with two other cars in various states of repair. A lime green coupe had it's engine half-way out, suspended by a lift.
"Nah, I've got to let that one drain for a bit anyway. Oil always ends up so sludgy, I swear, I don't know what he's doing to it," she groused, before leading the way to a little office. The desk was absolutely covered with papers and receipts and books and order forms and manuals, so many manuals. It was an amazement that Daphne was able to complete any sort of accounting at all. What did she do if the government ever ordered an audit? It was making Hermione's skin itch.
Daphne sat down in the chair and pulled out what appeared to be her main book. Counting the dollars again, she wrote in a few cash transactions to cover the difference — muffler change, new suspension, brake job. Hermione didn't know what any of those should cost, but once she was satisfied, Daphne incorporated Fenrir's money into her own money, pulled from a lock box in one of the lower drawers.
"Alright, shall we?" Daphne asked, standing up.
"Sure," Hermione agreed. Anything to put off the Slippery Serpent a bit longer.
"Astoria!" Daphne called out, before hearing an answering yell from the back. "Going to the bank, be back later!"
Daphne led the way from the shop, walking to the bank confidently. She wasn't worried about anyone trying to steal money from her. Hermione watched her blonde ponytail swishing behind her as she walked with purpose and once again envied her whole attitude. She seemed so effortlessly cool and assured. Hermione thought that Daphne would probably make a great undercover officer.
It wasn't long before they were walking into the bank and Daphne was dropping off the money. She made a bit of small talk with the teller, who seemed to know her well enough. The nameless woman didn't have anything to say about the slight increase in business that Daphne had done this week, which was good. Hopefully, they wouldn't have any trouble moving the rest.
Once that was done, Hermione stood awkwardly in front of the bank, looking at the mechanic expectantly. "Well, I'll be back in a week. Is now a good time?" she questioned.
"Yeah, perfect. This is when I usually make my bank run," Daphne explained. "So, what do you have next on the agenda?"
"I'm actually headed to the... Slippery Serpent next," Hermione said, rolling her eyes and showing Daphne the other deposit bag. "Can't put it off any longer, I'm afraid."
"I'll go with you," Daphne said — she said, she didn't ask, as though it was not possible that Hermione would reject her offer of company. Hermione felt another pang of wishfulness that she had that kind of confidence. "It's almost lunch time. Let's grab a beer. They actually have great burgers, too, but don't tell Scabior I said that."
Even though it was a bit odd to be hanging out with Daphne, Hermione still appreciated the company, she decided. She didn't want to go into a strip club all by herself. She'd never even been to one before! Well, actually, there was that time for Charlie's twenty-fifth birthday, but she'd been so pissed she didn't remember a single thing.
The walk did not take long and when they got to the Slippery Serpent, Hermione could already hear the loud music from the outside, never mind that it was only mid-day. Scabior perked up as soon as he saw them walk in and strode over, pressing kisses to both of her cheeks. "Darlin'," he said, rolling a toothpick between his teeth. "Have I been anxiously waiting for this day!"
Despite herself, Hermione could feel herself smiling. The lanky man wrapped an arm around both her and Daphne and led them back to an office, where the music was more muted. "Do you have something for me, gorgeous?" he asked, wagging his eyebrows at her.
Hermione handed him the deposit and he slipped it into the large safe in the back of the room, to be deposited at a later date. Satisfied that it would be handled (or Fenrir would get involved), Hermione felt a weight lift from her shoulders.
"Alright, now that that's done, let's go grab a beer," Daphne said. "I've only got so much time before Astoria is up my ass again."
"And how is your lovely sister? She can always have a job here if you get sick of her," Scabior asked, leading them back to the bar. They grabbed seats at the end, while Scabior went behind it to pour them each a pint — not bothering to ask what they wanted. It seemed that Daphne had a usual, because they were each being passed a shot of whiskey to go with it.
"As if," Daphne said, taking the shot in one go. "Give us a pair of burgers, too. This is my lunch, after all."
Scabior left to go to the kitchens, leaving Daphne and Hermione alone with one another. Hermione wasn't entirely sure where to look, but she knew that she didn't want to stare at the two women who were swaying on the walkway in the middle of the bar, each without much clothing to speak off. But, she also didn't want to stare at Daphne, either.
"Go on, then, take your shot," Daphne ordered her. "You need to loosen up a little. You're like a little stress ball."
Hermione smirked, but took the shot glass and drank the whiskey anyway. It burned all the way down, but she managed not to wince. A secret part of her wondered if that surprised the blonde. "Sorry, it's been a weird day, and well, a weird night, too," she said, wishing desperately that she had someone to talk to about what was going on between her and Fenrir.
"Well, that's Fenrir for you," Daphne said, shrugging her shoulders. "He has a way of keeping you on your toes, doesn't he?"
"Hm," Hermione said in agreement. Already she could feel the warm, buzzy feeling that she got from drinking on an empty stomach. God, she hadn't been day drinking in forever. She hoped that this didn't put her on her ass. Oh well, at least she didn't have anything else to do for the rest of the day. "Yeah, just when I think I know what he wants, he goes and does something the complete opposite."
"Don't I know it," Daphne said in agreement.
Hermione caught her lower lip when she heard the familiar way that Daphne agreed. It was almost like... like she knew. "So, how do you know Fenrir anyway?" she asked, before she could stop herself.
"It's not so special. I swear everyone knows Fenrir," she answered, taking a swig of her beer. "But, I suppose I've known him for a long time now. He actually used to work at Greengrass & Sons, back when my father was still alive."
"Really?" Hermione asked, finding the whole thing fascinating. "What as a mechanic, or?"
"Yeah, he was a mechanic. I was just a kid then, you know. I spent a lot of time there, though. Pretty much any time that I wasn't in school I was in that fucking shop," Daphne explained, a fond smile gracing her pretty face. "He always talked to me, didn't matter that I was twelve or whatever. He told me jokes, made me laugh. Helped me with my maths if I couldn't figure it out."
"Wow," Hermione said, even more surprised than she already was. She never would have thought that Fenrir had an aptitude for maths, but if his own office was anything to go off of, she supposed it shouldn't be that surprising. She did sort of wonder what the hell he needed her for then, though.
"God, I had the biggest crush on him! But, he was always polite and — well, I was a child of course," Daphne continued, rolling her eyes. "But then he started his own thing and he started making more money and then he quit. Didn't see him for a while after that."
The conversation was disturbed when Scabior brought them their burgers. Hermione took a bite, surprisingly hungry, though she supposed she had missed breakfast. Unable to let the conversation rest, she kept asking more questions.
"So, then, how did you cross paths again?" she wondered. It had been a long time since Daphne was a teenager.
"When my dad died, things were actually rough," she explained, no shame in her voice at all. "I inherited a business that was nearly completely underwater. And I am a woman, so people in the neighborhood sort of thought that we were easy pickings. I mean, I'm tough, but I'm not that tough."
"That must have been difficult," Hermione answered. "Did you ever think of selling?"
"For a while, but it wouldn't have even cleared his debts," Daphne continued. "Anyway, Fenrir heard about the trouble that was coming my way and he stepped in and made it stop. Now, no one even thinks about messing with us and the shop is profitable for probably the first time in its existence."
"He really has that clout?" she asked.
Daphne snorted. "Come on, would you want to mess with him? You've seen him," she said. "Besides, like I said, everyone knows Fenrir. People listen to him."
Hermione frowned when she thought about what his influence meant. Yes, he was certainly intimidating, but she knew how he'd gained his reputation. And it wasn't because he was nice to the people that he lorded over in this little corner of the City, or to the people that worked for him. He was ruthless and focused and scary... and she could see Daphne's point.
"And now he extorts you for money. For protection," Hermione said with a frown. "Only, who would you need protecting from if it wasn't Fenrir and his people?"
Daphne laughed at her — the sound was warm and familiar. "Yeah, and I don't have a problem with it," she explained. "It's not like there wouldn't be someone else if it wasn't Fenrir. And like I said, Fenrir and I go way back. I'd rather it be him."
Hermione frowned. "Rather the devil you know than the one you don't," she muttered, so unhappy with the way that this worked. Didn't Daphne realize that there were other businesses that didn't have to pay protection money? Hermione was sure that her mechanic didn't have to.
"Careful, Hermione," Daphne said gently. "Don't go stirring things up where there is no need. Don't feel sorry for me. I'm doing great — better than great actually."
She supposed that she could respect Daphne's wishes, even if she didn't personally agree with it. "Sure," she agreed, shrugging her shoulders.
"And be careful who you talk about this with," she added. "Other people might not be as understanding as I am. You're a smart girl. Just do your job."
That was probably a good lesson to learn, even though Hermione chafed at it. She wasn't used to not speaking her mind. But, while Fenrir might enjoy her banter with him about trivial things, she doubted that he would be happy to hear she was undermining his business, even if they had shared a kiss or whatever that was.
With their beers and burgers finished, Hermione and Daphne parted ways. Hermione thought about returning to the warehouse to let Fenrir know how everything had gone, but she decided against it. She didn't want to have to go back to whatever that... weird energy between them was. She didn't like not knowing where she stood. Instead, she settled for sending him a quick text with one word — 'done'.
They would talk again the next time she saw him.