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! And, thank you for your patience on this one, too. I had a busy week last week at work, but I am hoping we will still have our weekly updates even through the holidays.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eleven and be on the lookout for chapter twelve!

The car ride back to the warehouse was mostly spent listening to songs on the radio. Hermione couldn't think of anything to say as she was also trying to catalog every single detail she could from her meeting with Antonin so she could commit it to memory. Fenrir, for his part, didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong — in fact, he seemed quite pleased with how things had gone — and bopped his head along when he especially liked a song.

When they got back to the warehouse, though, it felt as if all the adrenaline from the day had finally caught up with Hermione and she realized her hands were shaking. A shiver ran through her body when they walked back inside and she was amazed at how giddy she felt, like she was going to burst. They stopped to say hello to Stan at the door and she couldn't help but make a little quip when they passed by.

"If you only knew the fight that I just saved you from, Stan," she said, pressing a hand to his chest.

Stan was a lanky man, with an easy smile, who did a great job of watching the door during the day. But, he would have been absolutely destroyed by Antonin's nephew if they ever stepped into a ring with one another. "How'd ya do that, Hermione?" he asked her, sounding pleased.

"Your name came up for a boxing match," Fenrir said, giving the other man a teasing grin. "Hermione didn't think you could handle it."

"Oh, come on now, love, you don't know... I could be like an amateur heavyweight champion or summat," he said, puffing out his chest.

Hermione laughed at the bravado. "A heavyweight? Really?" she asked, smirking. There was no world where Stan would be a heavyweight. "And, yeah, I saw the other guy. Trust me, you did not want to fight him."

"I'll have to thank you properly for looking out for my beautiful mug, then," he said, giving her a longing sort of look.

The flirty turn in the conversation must have put Fenrir on edge, because he was throwing his arm around her shoulders. "Maybe another time, Stan," he said, all fake disappointment in his voice. "Peach and I have some numbers we have to look over ourselves."

Hermione was pleased to be led back to Fenrir's office. It wasn't that she didn't like Stan alright — he did seem like a nice enough guy — it was just that she wasn't really interested in romance with him. And that was before whatever it was that was going on between her and Fenrir, she thought, with a blush on her cheeks.

Once they were alone, Fenrir slid into his chair. He looked more like a king in his throne, sprawled out as he was. Hermione pressed her hands to the top of the desk and leaned over to look at him. "So, what was it that you wanted to go over?" she asked. Perhaps he wanted to gauge how much of his money they could move from this boxing match and adjust their weekly drops from there.

He gave her a wolfish smile, before leaning over to open the bottom shelf of his desk. He pulled out a bottle of rum, half-drank, and a single glass, before pouring an extremely generous portion. "I actually just had a more private celebration in mind," he said, his voice practically a purr. "I hope you don't think less of me that I am so selfish with you and your time."

Hermione felt her heart flutter in her chest at the underhanded way he'd monopolized her time that day. No, she didn't really think he was monstrous at all for wanting to be alone with her. In fact, it was quickly something that she found herself longing for, too. "No," she said, not sure what to do with herself.

Fenrir took a long drink of the rum and stared at her, his lap an apparent open invitation. "Well?'' he said, expectantly.

She could feel her eyelashes flutter while she tried to decide what she should do with herself. "Looks like you are celebrating all by yourself," she said, daring him to ask for her. "You don't have a glass for me. Doesn't seem like a very fun celebration."

"Guess you will just have to share with me," he said, smirking at her. "You don't mind, do you Peach?"

Feeling akin to an automaton, Hermione's legs walked without her thinking, until she was standing between his spread legs. She took the glass from him and brought it up to her lips. She took a small sip, enjoying the molasses mouth feel and the fiery burn down her throat. "Cheers," she said, before handing the glass back to him.

Fenrir gave her a look that made her feel equal parts powerful and out of control at the same time. Simultaneously, she felt as if she were completely in charge of their interaction — like she could get Fenrir to do anything that she wanted him to — and like she was being carried away on some unruly current, one that might suck her under the surface if she wasn't careful.

But did she really need to be careful? Her gut was telling her no.

Taking the glass from her, Fenrir threw back the rest of the brown liquid and set the empty glass on the desk behind him. One of his massive hands found the curve of her waist and settled there, heavy. Biting her lower lip, Hermione decided to just dive in instead of waffling. She looked into his blue eyes before grabbing his hand and pulling it further around her waist, until it was settled just at the top of her arse.

This seemed to be the right move. Fenrir looked like the cat who caught the canary as his smile widened and his hand gave her a squeeze. He pulled her closer yet, and Hermione felt her feet stumble. She pressed her hands to his shoulders to steady herself. God, how had she never really noticed how much taller he was than her? With him sitting down in the seat, she was only now as tall as him.

"Careful there," he cautioned, a teasing lilt in his voice. "I wouldn't want you to fall."

Hermione wondered if there was some other meaning to his words, before shaking them out of her mind. Fenrir wasn't concerned with love or having her fall in love with him. He was more of a physical being, intent on stoking this fire that was kindling between them. And, whatever the intense desire was, it wasn't from love.

"Would it be so bad if I did?" she asked, leaning into him once more, until she was toppling into him.

Fenrir caught her as though it were no trouble at all, before settling her across his leg, much like how they had been the last time that they kissed. "You seem to like sitting on my lap," he said, bemused.

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked him, her eyes fluttering shut while he leaned down to close the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers in a fierce kiss.

Hermione moaned against him, surprising herself at how much she'd been longing for a repeat performance, even if she hadn't admitted it to herself. Last time, Fenrir had been totally in control, dominating the kiss, but this time she was not just going to be an idle participant. She deepened the kiss, wanting more. She sighed when he slipped his tongue against hers, the spicy taste of the rum overwhelming her senses.

Pulling away, she caught his lower lip between her teeth, giving it a little nip. To her immense surprise, the action had Fenrir groaning, the rumble in his chest making her giddy when it reverberated through her. He pulled her closer against him, until they were completely flush, her legs between his. She gasped when she realized that the hardness she felt against her leg could only be the proof of his desire for her.

Fenrir broke the kiss and Hermione wanted to whine in disappointment, only to be silenced when he kissed down the side of her jaw, lips finding the delicate skin of her neck. He pressed kisses up and down, alternating nips and soothing kisses to temper the sting. It was turning her insides molten and she pressed her legs harder together, both wishing for and dreading more.

Her fingers found the rolled up sleeve of his button down shirt and she delicately pushed the fabric up, wanting to see the tattoo that sometimes peeked out from underneath. His kisses were distracting, especially when he pulled her hair over to one side of her shoulders, but she was determined to see what sort of secret he was hiding. His skin felt hot under the searching fingertips, pulling up the blue fabric to reveal what black outline was hiding underneath —

"Sorry to interrupt," a voice called from the now open door to the office.

Hermione sat up ramrod straight, realizing that their rendezvous was not nearly as private as she'd like. Even with the doors closed, there were still big windows that let Fenrir see what was going on outside. And though she was disappointed to be interrupted, she knew that it was for the best that they hadn't gotten too carried away.

Looking to the door, she was embarrassed to see that it was Remus once again who had interrupted their little interlude. She hated feeling like she'd disappointed him, but it was clear as day in his eyes that he was disgusted by her behavior once again. Already dreading the eventual lecture she was going to get, Hermione tried to stand on wobbly legs to put some space between her and Fenrir.

Only, Fenrir wasn't having any of it. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her pressed against him, even as he addressed Remus. "So then why did you?" he asked, unamused. "Peach and I were just celebrating our most recent business deal."

"There is a problem with one of the trucks. It's Travers this time," Remus said, his eyes darting between the two of them. "I tried to handle it myself, but I figured you would want to be involved."

The larger man sighed, before letting Hermione go. "I suppose I do need to be involved," he said, sounding truly disappointed. "We will have to continue this some other time, Peach."

Hermione blushed and stood up, walking around the desk.

"Maybe we could all celebrate," Remus suggested with a bright smile, as though he were pretending he didn't realize what he'd walked in on. "If it was such a big business deal. It's been a long time since the guys have had a party."

Fenrir practically growled at the idea. "It's more of a private party," he said, staring down the other man.

Remus laughed, appearing oblivious. Hermione tried to skirt past him, but his hand shot out to grab her by the upper arm. "Well, then, maybe Hermione will continue the celebration on her own," he said with a chuckle.

Hermione could feel her heart beating against her chest, wondering what Remus was playing at. Couldn't he see the anger that was practically radiating off of Fenrir at the moment? Why was he making such suggestions when they could be interpreted to have such rude connotations? She turned to look at the other man and saw that his eyes were narrowed, glaring at the spot where Remus's hand was still touching her.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Hermione said, feeling uncertain. She didn't want to make a wrong step and tip Fenrir off that there was anything odd about her. "Probably best for me to just go home."

"Ah, come on," Remus said, playfully. "Surely a pint at the pub would do you good to cool off."

She blushed even deeper. Remus had never spoken like that to her before and she wasn't sure what to make of it. But, she did realize that he was trying to tell her to go and debrief with Sirius. Surely there were less dangerous ways for him to do that, though? Ways that didn't make it seem like he was trying to make some kind of pass at the woman his boss was clearly interested in? What was certain was that she needed to remove herself from the situation as quickly as possible before things boiled over. Fenrir was clearly not happy with the way the interaction was going and she wasn't sure what could make him snap.

"Oh, maybe that's not a bad idea after all," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, just so Remus would know that she got the message after all. Hermione chanced a glance at Fenrir once again, only to see something dark simmering in his eyes. She didn't stop to think on it too long, instead turning tail and leaving the warehouse behind.

When she was walking to the little pub around the corner from her flat, she was shaking — whether from nerves or anger or unspent lust, she wasn't entirely sure. Or maybe, it was just the cold. She wrapped her black leather jacket around her body tighter, before ducking into the warmth of the bar.

Immediately, she saw Sirius sitting at the bar, looking at the end of his first pint. She could already feel the nerves in her stomach twisting, wondering how she was going to talk to him, knowing that Remus had probably been gossiping about her. Setting her shoulders straight, she walked over to the bar and sat down, before flagging Gary for a pint.

"News?" Sirius asked, sounding casual — way too casual. Oh, god, he definitely knew.

"Yes, I've met Antonin," Hermione said, taking a sip off of the foamy head of her drink. "Apparently he asked to meet me. We went to discuss a boxing match that they will be fixing. They are planning on laundering 20 to 30 percent of Fenrir's money as gambling winnings."

Sirius's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "You actually met him?" he asked, intrigued. "What else did you learn?"

"Antonin Dolohov. He's got a nephew called Ilya and a sister called Nina," Hermione repeated. "He's way more dangerous than Fenrir. The nephew will be one of the boxers. Um... he mentioned some other people that work with... well.. You-Know-Who," she said, looking over her shoulders. Even though Sirius insisted that this little bar was safe, she felt like Tom Riddle's tentacles were everywhere, just waiting to pull you under when you least expected. "Malfoy — Draco and Lucius I think."

"Excellent, Hermione," Sirius said, clapping her on the shoulder for her job well done. "We've long suspected that Malfoys, but we've never had any concrete proof of their involvement."

"Well, Draco at least wants to be at the boxing match," Hermione explained, further, pleased that she really was making a difference. "He wants to be one of the undercards."

Sirius snorted into his beer. "Knowing that little shit, I bet he'd prefer to be the main fight," he said, uncharitably.

Hermione hadn't met Draco so she couldn't say one way or the other. "If he saw Ilya, I'm sure his mind would change," she quipped.

There was a beat of silence and Hermione contented herself with drinking her pint. Eventually, Sirius worked up his nerve and brought up what was really on his mind. "And how are things with Fenrir?" he asked, giving her a side-long glance.

She couldn't help but sigh. "Don't act like you don't already know," she said with a frown. "I know that Remus has already been running back to tattle to you at every chance that he gets. He's like a nosey old woman."

"Remus is just worried about you," Sirius said, choosing his words very carefully.

Hermione leaned against the bar, annoyed with how she was being micromanaged by the two — each one constantly questioning her actions when she was making progress. Shouldn't they just be happy with what she'd done? "Listen, all I did was take your advice," Hermione accused. "I'm just... leaning into his interest instead of keeping him at arm's length and it seems like it's working."

"It sounds like you are doing more than just leaning in," Sirius countered, knowingly.

"Ugh, I knew it," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I knew that he was snitching on me. For your information, Fenrir has kissed me twice and that's it. And, already, he's introducing me to Antonin and letting me in on little secrets that will only help our case."

Sirius ran his hand over his face. He looked like he hadn't been sleeping well. "Remus is... upset with me that I gave you that advice," he explained, sounding embarrassed. "Really, I shouldn't have suggested it. You are already in a precarious position and well, it's not really safe."

"Well, it's too late now, Sirius," Hermione said, with a pout. That was only half true. She knew that even if Fenrir was a dangerous man, it wasn't as if he would force her into a relationship if she didn't want one. He wasn't that kind of guy. But, it was her that didn't want to stray from the path they'd ended up on. She was... enjoying exploring whatever was going on between her and the boss. "It's not like I can just ignore him now. Not without it being... suspicious."

"I understand," Sirius reassured her, making her think that he didn't really have as much of an issue with it as he was making it seem.

"Besides, just like you said, it is working," Hermione repeated, wanting him to know that she was getting valuable information out of it.

Sirius sighed, but nodded anyway, ordering them each a second beer.

At this point, Hermione's head was starting to spin from the rum and the beer, her thoughts effervescent and warm. It made her bolder than she usually would be, but she really couldn't stop herself. "Look, I know that Remus is worried about me, but..." she trailed off. "Do you think that you could get him to back off a little bit? He's... he's jeopardizing things. He is getting sloppy, trying to talk to me in code in front of Fenrir. He's not stupid. He's going to figure it out and then both of us are going to get in trouble, okay?"

His eyebrows drew together, looking concerned. "Yeah... Remus is —" he stopped himself short from whatever it was he was going to say. "If he's really done that, he's taking it too far. So I'll talk to him. But, Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Remus is... I think he just feels —" Sirius stopped himself again, searching for the right words. "He just wouldn't be able to live with himself if you got hurt. So, he's being a little bit reckless, but... he's just looking out for you."

"Just remind him not to let his actions hurt me," Hermione repeated, running her hands against her upper arms. "Look, I've got to go. I've had a long day and well, I've got to get something to eat and just... unwind. I'll look for your signal, okay? And if I hear anything else worth passing on, well... I know where to find you."

"Look after yourself, kitten," Sirius said, giving her a look that she couldn't quite understand.